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Though the sunlight stings your eyes, you take stock of the situation as soon as you emerge from the darkness, submachine gun at the ready. Two groups occupy the grassy slope beyond the bunker's threshold, clearly at odds with one another.
The first group is the Voss, eight of them in total – the rest are out hunting, gathering and tending to fields. One of the tribesmen lies dead on the earth with a crimson crater on his face while Blayz can be seen crouching and clutching at his shoulder, blood oozing between his fingertips. The remaining six, wielding little more than stone knives and other primitive tools, forming a half-circle around their opposition and bombarding them with insults and threats.
There are five strangers in the second group, though one of them lies on the earth with the spear of Blayz buried in his chest. Their clothes are a little more sophisticated than those of your tribe, comprised of leather and canvas reinforced with scrap metal. They're an eclectic bunch:
A hulking brute with a fire axe in his hands.
A squat fellow carrying a bizarre contraption that barely resembles a gun.
A woman past her prime with all sorts of wires and devices dangling from her belt.
A scrawny youth who awkwardly wields a large sled like it's a shield.
“Shit,” yelps Squat once he spots you. Though he speaks in a tongue that you don't know, your memes allow you to intuitively grasp the meaning of everything he says. “That one's got a fucking gun!” He seems anxious, like he's about to open fire at any moment.
“Shut up! Shut the fuck up and keep your hand off the crank, or I'll kill you myself!” Wires hisses those words in Squat's direction. Turning her attention to you, the woman offers you a gummy smile and calls out in the Frankan tongue. “You lead this tribe, yes? The shot man spoke of you as Three Hundred. We come in peace!”
“You already killed one of my tribe,” you retort, gun at the ready. For now, you've got your sights trained on Squat, but you're not sure who's the most dangerous. “Not very peaceful of you. What do you want?”
“We were following stories of salvage beneath the mountain,” Wires confesses, her hands raised in a placating gesture. “No one has been able to reach it before, so we thought we would try. If this mountain is your home, then... then we shall only take half of what we find. Your tribe can keep the rest.”
>Let them take what they want. It's better than suffering further casualties or taking any risks.
>Take out Squat before he's able to shoot you. You don't like the look of that weird gun of his.
>Take out Brute. If you give him the chance, he could probably cut through several tribesmen.
>URGE: Bring Wires over to your side. Rid her of her desire to loot the bunker and go from there.
>URGE: Turn Brute against Squat. Have him cut down the gun-totting freak for you.
>URGE: Turn Squat against Brute. Have him gun down the axe-wielding giant of a man.
