The scorching sun beats down as I stand on a cliff, binoculars in paw. I've been following the worn down road signs left by the Forgotten Ones leading towards what should be the city Las Vegas. "A bit of a trip from Sunstone Spire." Mother told me even after five hundred years Las Vegas still has things to scavenge for many more centuries.
Off in the distance, I see the faint outlines of broken concrete buildings. My binoculars confirm my suspicion. A city of the Forgotten Ones. I stretch lightly before making my way down the cliff to the road where my motorcycle awaits.
Riding along the broken desolate roads of Nevada. Eyes and ears sharp for any signs of danger.
It's midday by the time I make it to the ruins of Las Vegas. Roads littered with broken vehicles, many scrapped from centuries outside in the elements or scavenged for precious parts. Buildings tower high into the sky, their colors faded, walls chipped, some barely standing or already collapsed.
Goddamn, these buildings are massive. I think as I weave through the maze of cars and fallen debris. I scan the buildings, assessing which ones seem safe enough to explore. Parking my motorcycle in front of a relatively intact looking building. Shouldering my rifle and backpack, I head inside. What I find inside is rows upon rows of dusty electronics. A treasure trove of loot.
I begin the process of pulling apart machines as Rivet taught me. Discarding things that are too eroded or rusted while bagging anything that seems useful. That is till I hear steps heading in my direction. I'm pulled into full alert, setting down the scraps I was examining. Grabbing my rifle from over my shoulder, taking cover behind one of the many rows of machines. I peak around the corner searching for whoever or whatever made that sound.
Of all the times to run into a fuckin outlaw. I assume, cursing my own misfortune. Checking my rifle is loaded and safety is off. Finger on the trigger. It's then that I hear steps behind me, spinning around I take aim only to see something bizarre. Before me stands a creature I've never seen before, though they have a gun themselves pointed at me.
Doesn't look like any mutant I know... Nor do they look threatening. No discerning features.. Their covered by a large cloak that looks too prestine for this world to have been found... No visible traits, completely clean appearance... As if untouched by the harshness of the Badlands. They also have a futuristic looking gun pointed at me... and my gut is telling me I shouldn't shoot or else I wouldn't even be given the chance to pull the trigger.
We stand off for a few seconds before I have the courage to speak up. "What do we have here? Never seen something like you before... Though I'm sure we can both agree a standoff isn't the best use of our time, so why don't we both lower our guns?" I ask sharply. My rifle trained on their skull.