[Location: Independence, just outside the Tower.]

When atomic fire consumed the earth, those who survived did so in great, underground vaults. When they opened, their inhabitants set out across ruins of the old world to build new societies, establish new villages, forming tribes.

As decades passed, what had been the American south united beneath the flag of the gun toting group known as the NRA. Once an organization called the National Rifle Association, this new version of the group (breaking away from the legendary Regulators) changed its moniker to the New Regulator Alliance and officially formed the New Republic of Texas in their own image. Dedicated to the wild west values of old, the NRA showed these Red Wastes that he or she who has the most guns will lead the charge to reclamation of law and order. As the Republic grew, so did its needs. Other factions rose from the dust and joined the Republic...or fell to their might.

Together, these groups found a way to thrive and restore some semblance of society and order to this harsh wasteland. It wasn’t perfect...far from it, but it was far better than the alternative.

Decades passed and many things changed, but the New Republic galloped along all the same. One group, however, had decided to find their way without the protection of the Republic in exchange for true freedom. This town became known as Independence. The founding of Independence happened five years ago to this very day, and the growing community has been preparing to celebrate it’s quinquennial anniversary. It’s the first time the town has been in a good enough place to stop and smell the roses of what they’ve accomplished. Maintaining their sovereignty, establishing their own trade routes, and protecting those that came along for the journey has proven to be an incredible weight to bear...but those in charge of Independence have done just that. This place has earned a little festivity.

Much of the town has gathered outside of the Tower’s open air lobby that acts as a marketplace and entrance to the structure that houses many of the founding members and well-off residents of the Tower. Populace from both Shantytown and the Tower proper have assembled outside of the dilapidated hotel with their eyes set towards the large balcony four floors up above, waiting for the coming address from their mostly beloved mayor and founder of Independence, Fleece White. Members of Independence’s Administration have taken position up on the balcony as Constance Ambrose goes through her overly optimistic and excited welcoming spiel. Food and merriment are all around, but most people are at least half-paying attention to the advisor’s words.

“And of course, none of this would be possible without the woman that...ummm...made it possible...So, let me hereby introduce someone that you all know and love…”.

As Constance goes about calling out Mayor White her husband, Cal, appears on the balcony, coming from within the Tower. He walks up to Constance and turns her away from the ramshackle microphone to halt her speech. A brief conversation is had, and all of a sudden Constance runs back into the building with purpose. Obvious confusion begins to arise from those around you as Cal steps up to the microphone and struggles to speak.

“I...uhh”. He pauses for a long time, running a hand over his mouth and beard. Even from this distance you can see the gears turning in his mind as he tries to form his next words. “I am sorry everyone. Mayor White has fallen very ill. She...uh...can’t come out here for the celebration.” He forces a terribly transparent smile before continuing. “Go ahead and enjoy yourselves and get ya some grub. She’d want us all to celebrate this day nonetheless. Uhh...thanks.” Worried whispers and confusion continue to grow as he fiddles with the microphone in an attempt to turn it off before giving up and turning away awkwardly...hurrying to leave. The other key players on the balcony that haven’t already run into the Tower quickly join him. Except for Haskell, who calmly approaches the microphone himself. With a deep...smooth voice he begins to speak.

“You heard Mr. Ambrose. Now get on with the festivities. Don’t you worry about our mayor. She’s the toughest broad I’ve ever met...and that’s counting the female Direboar that took three of my toes. Get a bite to eat, enjoy the music, drink yourselves into peace, and have a good time.” Haskell unplugs the microphone and takes a long look at the crowd gathered below before slowly making his way inside as well.

What do you do?

"So Holland looks to the Sheriff, as he tends to do in times when he needs the guidance of someone more experienced than him. 'What do we do now, Sheriff?' Holland asks. Well, the Sheriff looks back at Holland and says. 'Now? We ride.' And so me, Holland, the Sheriff, and all the other deputies in the posse mount up and ride out into the Wastes. After ridin' for about ten minutes, Holland looks to the Sheriff again and he says. 'Where... are we goin'?' And the Sheriff, he looks back at Holland and he says. 'What?' And Holland says again more clearly. 'Where are we goin'?'... And as it turned out, the Sheriff had no idea where we were goin'. And so we rode back to town, a little embarrassed by our mistake. And when we got back, standin' at the gate was none other than Mayor White herself, waiting to chew our drunk asses to pieces for ridin' out into the Wastes when we should have been doin' our jobs. And that is why the lawmen 'round these parts ain't allowed to drink on the job no more." With the story finished, the assembled crowd burst into cacophonous laughter.

Up until that point Independence's 5th anniversary had been quite peaceful by the standards of the place, probably because of the festivities keeping the usual trouble makers too distracted to cause trouble. Holland welcomed the respite. A break from keeping the peace around Independence was always welcome. That didn't mean he'd wasn't keeping an eye out though. Holland kept just enough of his wits about him to watch for signs of trouble, especially near the more prolific troublemakers. The fact that it was a more peaceful day than usual didn't mean that it couldn't become less peaceful at a moment's notice. With Willard's story about the time an entire posse got drunk while on duty and rode out into the Red Wastes for no reason concluded, Holland noticed many people heading towards the tower. Realizing that the Mayor's speech was close at hand, Holland righted himself from the post he had been leaning against and made to join the rest of the people at the speech.

Along the way, Holland ran into Sheriff Dalton. After learning that his day had also been relatively peaceful, the two of them decided to attend the speech together. The speech itself went about as well as one might expect. Right up until the person meant to be giving the speech turned out to be too ill to make the speech. Once Haskell had gotten in the last words and joined the rest of the big wigs inside the Tower, Holland stood there for a time as an air of nervousness washed over the assembled crowd. "Damn." Holland finally said after being silent for a time. "I knew somethin' like this was bound to happen sooner or later considerin' her age and all. But today of all days?"

Grognak hadn't been a 'resident' of the town long. For the most part he'd gotten to know about the head honchos of independence through rumours and hearsay but today would be the first day he could see most of them in the flesh. That was if he could wake up on time. While Independence was very welcoming to people from all walks of life, a Super-Mutant was still an oddity to most of the inhabitants though after he didn't try to rip anyone in half, the residents precariously let him stay. The brute had been spending most days wandering around town and his nights at the bar, passing out at the table and sleeping there over night. The lifestyle wasn't that much of a far cry from when he was on the road with Henry but all the free time was nagging away at Grognak as he yearned for a new calling, a new quest to occupy his time.

Eventually the chatter of Independence residents outside coaxed Grognak awake as the lumbering musculature with a face got up and stretched. He made his way out of the bar and into the streets of Independence as a crowd began to form for the Mayor's big speech this morning. Grognak listened somewhat impatiently, wanting to get on with the rest of the celebrations ASAP but his mood was soured as he heard the bad news. Though he'd never seen the mayor, Gorgnak still wished her a speedy recovery. Wishing to know more, Grognak scanned the crowd before his eyes settled on the Sheriff. A man of such authority would likely be in the loop right? Grognak weaved his way through the dissipating crowd as best he could before speaking to the Sheriff.

"Lawman! Grognak would like to know what knowledge you have about the mayor's ailment." The Super-Mutant exclaimed though not overtly aggressively.

Ben hadn’t seen folk, or at least decent folk, in many moons, not since he left legion territory and vanished into the wasteland. Disappearing into the dust and the wind on his journey east, where he was met by the rising sun, and radscorpians and bark scorpions and colossal snakes. He’d walked far without seeing a friendly face, just the faces of raiders or the dead. So arriving in Independence was just what he needed. Ben had come across it the night before, seeing the glow of the tower from the distance and approaching cautiously. To his relief it was town, no, a city, and had learned from passing traders (which grew more frequent as he approached) that it was known as independence, and that it was presided over by a woman-emperor by the name of White. Stalking the wastes around the city, Ben found a distant place where he could make camp, approaching cities at night was only asking for trouble. So he settled down for the evening, watching the glow, and the occasional passage of traders arriving and departing.

In the morning Ben crouched by a nearby stream and stripped down, out of his defaced legion armor, which he had stripped of insignia and painted black. He washed himself, using some of his precious bar of soap, having heard that there was a celebration occurring. Ben wished to be presentable, so donned his nicer clothes before making way to the city. As he got to the edge of the city he was stopped by a pair of the city’s legionnaires, who asked him his business in independence.

“Hey, you. Stop.”

It some dusty point of ingress the pair of rifle armed guards halted him.

“Who are you?” There were many ways that question could be answered, depending on how it was asked, but Ben did the sensible thing of moving his hands from his sides and away from his weapons.

“My name is Ben, Flag, and I arrived from yonder way to see what the festivities are regarding.” Hen spoke in a very formal and restrained manner, as he was taught when he was young, consciously avoiding Latin. They eyed him suspiciously none the less, before conferring quietly between themselves.

They both looked at him with a peculiar glance, it wasn't every day someone came around speaking like they were from an old book. They talked amongst themselves for a moment before the one with the automatic rifle slung it over his shoulder.

"Just head in, everyone is around the tower celebrating, the sheriff should be there too if you have anything you need to ask." They walked away wiping their hands clean of the curious wastelander. Ben let out a sigh of relief, he didn't want to be known as hailing from the legion, he wasn't sure how people to the East felt about them.

"Well that can't be good."
Johannes says, mostly mumbling to himself as he turns from the balcony towards the various entertainment venues. As he made his way around partaking in the various foods and such he pondered what this might mean for the community. He didn't wish any ill will on the mayor, she'd done more in the last decade than most people did in their entire lives, but quite frankly she was old. Old enough that her death was an inevitable reality for the near future. The only thing to do was prepare to live with whatever happened afterward, and hope whoever fills the power vacuum doesn't destroy Independence in half the time it took to build.
Unsettling thoughts aside, he didn't take any particular action over the mayor's presumed ailment, she surely had enough people to look after her without the general rabble filing in one by one. And if anything more serious became of it he was sure they would be told in due time.

Sheriff Dalton's eyes are glued to the same place they have been for mere moments, but the him it has felt closer to an eternity. Something was wrong with the mayor, and that was bad enough under normal circumstances...but he knew what could potentially happen if she perished. He was not a fan of what might come to pass. His train of thought was broken by a booming voice that was unmistakable to him; that of a Supermutant. Thankfully it was Supermutant that had thus far proven to be as friendly as they come. He looked the big bastard up and down through his shades as he took in the creature's words.

"I know just as much as you big fella. She's an old broad. Tough, but time has caught up to tougher. I'm sure we'll find out more info as the day goes on."
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"I knew somethin' like this was bound to happen sooner or later considerin' her age and all. But today of all days?". Mr. Shaw was just barely able to hear the words come from Holland's mouth from the pocket of shadow he was occupying. His back was leaned against a corner wall out of sight enough to obscure his presence some, but when he was around most folk could feel it, and he was well aware that his presence was always fairly noted. Pushing off the wall he approaches the speaking man in a saunter, repeating the words Holland said aloud twice over before reaching him.

"And why is today better or worse than any other day my friend? This...celebration...continues with or without the old bat. Our lovely Fleece that is white as snow is most likely taking her final breaths as we speak and I for one see a strange sense of beauty in that thought." There is a condescending tone mixed with just a hint of pleasure coming from his words. "And you? What do you make of this...other than the obvious? Tell me something prophetic. Say something meaningful."

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@Stormlord @Voltus_Ventus Feel free to jump into either situation or continue your narrative as you please for the time being! :D

Holland was somewhat startled when he heard Grognak speak to the Sheriff in his usual booming tone. Grognak had shown himself to be a friend to the town so far, but that didn't make his loud voice any less startling when he managed to approach unnoticed. As the Sheriff spoke his peace on the matter to the super mutant, Holland stiffened as he heard his words being parroted back to him in a ghoulish rasp that was all too familiar to him. Holland had never gotten on well with Mr. Shaw. Partly because Shaw always spoke to him in that same condescending manner, partly because, deep down, every time he looked at a ghoul, Holland saw a Romero, but mainly because Mr. Shaw was responsible for a good portion of the crime in Independence, yet there was no way to prove it. A fact that got on the nerves of every lawman in town. "Prophetic? Meaningful? You're talkin' to the wrong guy if you want that, Shaw." Holland said as he turned to face the ghoul with a hard look in his eyes. "I will say this though. I have a great deal of respect for the Mayor, and I don't cotton well to hearin' her benin' called an old bat."

Satisfied with the Sheriff's response, Grogank prepared to head off and continue with the festivities. This was stopped however as a man approached the Sheriff and his compatriot. The man spoke with a lot of unsaid words behind his voice and the words he did say weren't nice ones. Dissing someone wasn't a concept lost on the supermutant but he knew there was a time and place and this wasn't either.

"Grognak don't like tone undead. You speak your thoughts freely then do to persons who care, not those worried about Mayor." Grognak said, irked by the man. Grognak may be a barbarian but even he had manners.

Mr. Shaw's smirk grew to a unsettling smile as he watched his words get under the skin of the man. It was evident in his response, and he loved every second of it. His smile lowered a bit, though, when the town's resident super mutant addressed him personally. He had kept one eye on the abomination ever since he showed up. The potential of what he could accomplish with a brute like that by his side aroused him in every meaning of the word. Together, they would be a force to be reckoned with. He could taste the power on his rad-burnt lips.

"Oh Grognak...I meant no disrespect to the old lamb. She is sacred to this place. It was built on her blood and that of the blood she spilled over the years. If she dies, she dies. That's all I was trying to say. Don't stain that wonderful green skin red for no reason. I'd hate to see something happen to you. In fact, why don't you come visit me in my alley after the celebration. I would love to discuss business with such a specimen." He bows respectfully to the behemoth before returning his attention Holland. "You've got a good heart deputy. It'll fade...in time." Shaw shoots his eyes towards the sheriff. "I'll be off to enjoy the day. Hope you do the same, Sheriff. Shame if you were forced to work on this day of all days." With one final, sarcastic bow he turns to leave.

Holland's eye narrowed irritably as he watched Mr. Shaw walk away. Once the ghoul was out of sight, Holland turned to Grognak and nodded in thanks. "I appreciate you steppin' in the way you did just now, big guy." Holland said. "Shaw ain't nothin' but trouble, especially to the law 'round these parts. Steer clear of the guy if you can help it." Holland glanced in the direction in which Mr. Shaw had vanished before looking back at the super mutant. "But I reckon I've said enough about him." Holland said with a shrug of his shoulders. "There is a celebration on, and I'm sure the mayor would want us to enjoy it even now. You want somethin' to drink? I'm buyin'." After hearing the super mutant's answer, Holland turned to Sheriff Dalton. "How 'bout you, Sheriff?" Holland asked. "You feel like grabbin' a drink right now?"

Grognak was satisfied with the response of Mr.Shaw, feeling the explanation was genuine enough to soothe the Supermutant's growing nerves and taking mild interest in the ghoul's offer. He watched him walk away before turning back to the man known as Holland and hearing out his thanks and warnings.

"Grognak love celebrate! A flagon of ale would quench Grognak's thirst!" Grognak exclaimed, heaving his mighty hand into the air and brought it down to give Holland a solid pat to the back, making sure to hold back as to not accidentally provoke the law man into attacking. Living with the traders taught Grognak that communicating physically with humans was full of restraint, a skill he was all too happy to hone as a warrior needed to be all to familiar with the discipline.

Sheriff Dalton smiles at his deputy's suggestion before lowering his shades down his nose to reveal his no-nonsense eyes. At face value his expression is one Holland has seen a million times before. However, you get the sense that there is something else in his face...something he's intentionally keeping at bay. ((@rush99999feel free to roll Insight for me please if you think Holland would do so.))

"Have I ever been one to pass up a free drink?" He let's out a low chuckle before continuing. "I am going to have to take a rain check on your offer though. I'll hold you to it another time, but I need to head up and check on the Mayor. Got some business with Haskell as well I need to look after. Go and have yourself a helluva time though. I'm not concerned for your safety with this big bastard by your side." He pats Grognak on the upper arm, not quite able to reach the shoulder. "Just don't get too far gone. With this many folks around we better at least try to pretend to do our jobs." He chuckles again before turning to leave.

"Suit yourself." Holland said once the Sheriff had given his answer. "Come find me when you can and I'll see about gettin' you that drink." As he watched Dalton go, Holland's usually stoic and inexpressive face tinged somewhat with worry. Though the Sheriff had tried to hide it, Holland saw something in Dalton's eyes that the young gunslinger had rarely seen before. Fear. Holland had watched this man charge a machine gun nest with nothing but a six shooter. During their days with the Texas Reds, he and Haskell would stand in full on bullet storms when all others had ducked for cover. And when someone needed to serve as live bait for a super mutant behemoth that had been terrorizing the roads in the early days of Independence, he said nothing. He simply mounted up and rode off into the behemoth's lair. If something had a man like Sheriff Dalton scared, it was something to worry about. Holland filed that worry away for the time being though. There was nothing he could do for now, and if he worried to much he might make a scene and set the whole town to worrying. So instead, he put his face back the way it was and turned to Grognak. "I hear tell Ol' Duffy managed to get in some of the really good stuff for today." Holland said. "Wanna go see if there's any truth to that?"

Grognak gave a nod of acknowledgment to the sheriff as he moved on to go about his business. The supermutant thought nothing more of it as he really didn't know anyone here well enough to pick out what was them acting out of character. Turning back to the man called Holland, Grognak's fast would contort into a smile at the mention of the 'good stuff' and pumped his fists in the air.

"Now you speaking Grognak's language!" the supermutant exclaimed before bringing his hands down, one of which resting firmly on Holland's shoulder as he spoke up again "lead the way Lawman!"

Holland sat in the warmth of the fire, sipping a bottle of Sunset Sarsaparilla. Ever since he parted ways with Sheriff Dalton, the concerns that Holland had filed away were slowly but surely bubbling to the surface. The fact that almost everyone was talking about what he had those concerns certainly didn't help matters. What was wrong with the Mayor? Was she going to be alright? Had her days finally been numbered? Was there nothing Holland could do to help? Holland's thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a single gunshot ringing out over the festivities.

Holland just sat there for a moment, blinking in shock. Had he really just heard that? Was there something wrong with his ears? Who would be shooting at a time like this? Why would they be shooting at a time like this? Holland regained focus just as a burst of gunfire rang out. Followed by a resounding boom as something exploded near the gate. Holland jumped to his feet. Something was going down. Something he should probably be helping with. All previous concerns forgotten, Holland dashed for the gate as he readied himself for a fight.

Grognak was passed out drunk. He'd been out for quite a few hours now after winning (and losing) some drinking contest with fellow residents of Independence. The day had been full of merriment for the supermutant, the likes of which he had never seen at either of the last two places he called home. As he laid there in a dreamless slumber the first gunshot went off and Grognak... did nothing, not even a gunshot being able to rouse the giant. However the explosion finally woke Grognak with a start.

Grognak was still decently sloshed but the supermutant still sprung to his feet, letting out a slurred battle cry consistently as he ran towards the gates. He didn't know what was happening or really where the noise had come from but his instincts told him to run until he found something to hit.

As the two of you ready yourselves and run towards the commotion, a second explosion erupts...this time much closer to you.

(I need both of you to make agility saves please. I will make a roll of my own to see how many others are killed / injured by this explosion.)

The blast rings out and you both immediately feel the heat of it. The shop owner to your right is hit full force with the explosion and is completely decimated by the blast.

Holland, you are able to dive over the edge of a stall at the very last moment; the structure absorbs most of the impact but a bit of shrapnel hits your right calf as you are mid dive. You take 4 piercing damage from the blast.

Grognak is not so fortunate. You are intoxicated and massive. On your best day nimble actions don't necessarily come naturally to you...on this day they definitely don't. You're reaction time is delayed just enough that all you can do is brace for the impact of the explosion. Jagged bits of metal and debris hit you along with a wave of fire and heat. You take 5 piercing damage and 4 fire damage for a total of 9. Thankfully you are able to maintain your footing despite the intoxication...that is of course depending on your max HP lol.

"SHIT!" Holland exclaimed as a nearby shop went up. Holland's instincts kicked in and the gunslinger dived for cover. His speed spared him the blast, but some of the shrapnel still managed to draw blood from his leg. Holland had suffered much worse than a minor leg injury before though. Blocking out the pain, Holland stood up to inspect the damage to the rest of the area. The shop had been destroyed, taking the poor shopkeeper along with it. On top of that, Grognak had taken the blast head on, leaving the super mutant one good hit away from being taken out of commission. Other than that, everything else was as fine as a place could be after an explosion had occurred in the general vicinity. "Shit! Grognak!" Holland exclaimed before rushing over to the super mutant. "You ain't lookin' so good, big guy."