Stranger in a Strange Land

[Azerate]

Harrison

---

For years had Harrison been walking in the Wastelands, fighting ghouls and the devilish men and animals out for his blood. No doubt he was beat up, bruised and tired. Ragged leather shoes barely held together on his feet as he walked through what was once London. It had been such a long time since he was here, literally 20 years. Time seemed to be much more cruel than radiation was, as he noticed several more buildings had fallen since his last visit. Big Ben was still the tallest thing around, even though it was a pity such a dignified clock was half missing.

He trudged forward, step by step with sword in hand, his mouth completely dry like cotton. Perhaps he had already stopped sweating, in which case he would have to find water soon. As he surveyed what was around him, he couldn't help but notice more and more things that seemed to be recently looked over, or walked over. Footsteps in the dust, signs of foraging in the nearby supermarket. He knelt down to pick up a stone left from the street and inspected it, although he wasn't surprised there was nothing to be seen. His arm coiled up and threw the stone far ahead, hearing it hit the side of something metal.

He wasn't impressed. If there was people here, they were either very good at hiding or already knew he was here and was just toying with him. Of course, he didn't doubt for a moment that he had taken a journey through the desert alone for nothing. He didn't doubt that he had suffered extreme dehydration and risked becoming a plaything for zombies for a ransacked supermarket and a ghost town. It really wasn't the first time, and he was sure it wouldn't be the last.

Harrison sighed a heavy sigh and sat cross-legged in the dirt, the shield protecting his back as he reached for his canteen. It only had about four ounces left, but he drank it all. There, that was his big reward for years of traveling, battling and getting lost. He looked up to Big Ben again and squinted, thinking bitterly There's no justice in the world. Brian died for nothing. I continue to live to discover nothing. My entire legacy, locked away. My nationality voided. England exists to stand testament that there is no cosmic heaven or subterranean hell, that these places occur simultaneously on earth.

Despite his sour thoughts, Harrison needed to find some kind of source of water or nutrients. His face was badly baked by the sun, his eyes were fuzzy from harsh sunlight and low sleep and he was not at full strength, which would cause a problem if he was being hunted. He got up and bumbled forward, to what he could not discern as the gate to Haven.

[Ekurian]

Magpie

---

Following what would seem to be a random, meandering path to anyone else, Magpie worked his away around the ruins and rubble. The sand and rocks made a dull crunch beneath the soles of his heavy boots. He'd found them recently and couldn't believe his luck- they were just one size on the big side. Their previous owner (a now dead and rotting corpse at the bottom of an air duct) must have been some sort of builder, for these were the kind of boots one would have seen people wearing at a construction site all those years ago.

A rip in the knee his tattered, dirty jeans caught on the corner of a collapsed house. He assumed it had been a house. The hole was pulled even wider, but it didn't matter. They were past their use-by-date anyway. They were covered with holes, many burnt through by Spitter acid. The blisters and marks behind the fabric stood testament to Magpie's many lucky escapes and near-misses.

Squinting through the lens of his sunglasses, he paused to glance across the decimated landscape. It was quiet. The footsteps left behind by other scavengers had already been covered with a night's layer of sand. The strap of his backpack slid down his arm. He shoved it back up and over his shoulder and reached down the back of his jacket to pull a hood over his head- the sun was almost at its highest, and he burned easily. He was thankful that he had begun making his way back to Haven when he had.

As he resumed walking, he noticed that there was a set of fresh footprints over the old ones. Magpie stopped to take a loser look at them. They didn't have the tell-tale scuffing or drag marks that were characteristic of Shufflers and Spitters. Neither were they erratic or lead to sections of debris. Not a Stalker, then. Berserker? No, they didn't come this far in. <i>Must be living then</i>, he thought. Magpie started to move again, this time slower. If they were part of the roving gangs, he was in trouble. He'd taken enough risks when he left with only a knife. His knife had been lost and now he was left defenceless. He began to look for something to use as a make-shift weapon.

Taking his eyes off his well memorised route, as he skirted around a broken wall, Magpie's foot caught on an outcropping of rubble. He stumbled, outstretched hands meeting the floor just in time. He pushed himself up, rubbing his grazed palms over his legs, then bent down to pick up his glasses. Relieved that they weren't broken, he looked up.

There was a man ahead of him.
He held his breath, for the man had no doubt heard Magpie fall.

Magpie hoped the man wasn't hungry.

[Azerate]

Harrison

---

Hearing cacophony behind him, Harrison picked up his sword and tried to turn around and stand up simultaneously. His legs jellied and he fell right back down, much to his despair. If this was it, he was going to die sitting down.

Gratefully, his eyes were not completely shot. He didn't see an immediate weapon on the other and frankly, noticed that he was alone and unarmed, probably not hostile and probably a member of Haven. Probably. There was always a chance this was one of the more normal looking post-apocalyptic freaks that liked to torture survivors out of boredom and emotional scarring. If that was the case here, he would have no problems spilling his blood.

Harrison didn't see any other choice. Let this be it, then, was Harrison's thought as he crawled on hands and knees with sword in fist to meet the man who had created a loud crash. He cleared his throat of dust, rasping worse than a smoker for thirty years. "Please! Help me! Do you know where the Haven is?"

[Ekurian]

Magpie

---

Staring at the man with his mouth slightly open, Magpie wondered how that man had actually got this far. He snapped out of his stupor, and crouched down so that he was level with the crawling man. Emaciated, dehydrated... he thought, studying the man. He also took note of the sword. He got this far with that? Tough fucker.

He coughed and pulled his bag off his back. The coughing continued, worsening a bit, but Magpie didn't seem to care. He opened the bag and pulled out a dented canteen, "I think you'd better have some of this before you even think about walking, " he said, holding it out for the other man to take. His voice was hoarse, maybe worse-so from the coughing. A slight smile showed at the corners of his mouth, "Don't worry, it's water. I'm not gonna try and kill you."
I hope the feeling's mutual. He kept an eye on that sword. It wouldn't be the first time someone had acted as if they were in need of help and he'd fallen for it.

[Azerate]

Harrison

---

The other man was nice enough to come closer and hand Harrison a canteen, which he could hear water sloshing in. The sword was abandoned on the ground with a dull clatter of iron on rubble as he took the canteen, popped the top and drank deeply. The water seemed colder than the air around them and fresh, not at all like the water he filtered himself. After a few deep swigs he handed back the half emptied canteen, panting heavily. "Thank you," was his response, some hoarseness gone.

Slightly refreshed, his brain was able to process the man in front of him. He wore shiny things and had the palest skin for this climate- Indeed, it was a wonder how this man got around at all with intense sun. His hair spiked in such an odd way and he seemed shaved, and his clothes had seen some serious battle with spitters.

Obviously he now saw that the pale man was no hostile threat. Maybe he was sick, which was a different threat entirely. "My name is Harrison Harper. I'm an American." Not that his nationality changed anything, but compared to any other tidbit of information, it was the least depressing.

[Ekurian]

Magpie

---

Screwing the lid back on the canteen and returning it to his backpack, Magpie raised an eyebrow.
"American?" he half chuckled, pushing his hair out of his pink eyes, "You picked the wrong place to take a vacation."
He tucked his sunglasses safely into a pocket inside his jacket, stood up and swung his bag over his shoulder. He began to talk, only to be hid by another bout of coughing. He turned his head slightly and coughed into his hand, "Fuck sake," he managed to say, as they finally subsided. "Sorry about that. I'm Magpie and I'm, well, I guess you could say I'm from Haven now. Here, lemme help you up and I'll take you there"

He offered his hand for Harrison to take, "And don't worry about the coughing, I'm pretty sure cancer's not contagious."

[Azerate]

Harrison

---

If his skin didn't feel so tight yet melty he would've scowled a little. He only wished his trip to England consisted of visiting pubs, Big Ben and chilling at the Isle of Wight! Instead he took Magpie's hand and with a knee, helped himself up. He belt down to pick up his sword, twisting the safety cord around his wrist-- there was no scabbard a man could make for such a hiltless cleaver as he had forged. Frankly it was a danger to himself and everything around him, and both sides of the bound handle were notched. The blade had been sharped... Hmm, maybe in the last five years, touched up here and there with precious slabs of flint. There were nicks in it and definitely a couple dents and holes from where the spitters acid had landed and from where stalkers struck at him.

Despite being such a strong mother fucker in the past 15 years, He was weak as a kitten now. If he had missed the exit, if he had gone another way, he was sure he would be thirsting to his death out in the wonderland of nothingness. Haven was finally upon him and a sick man would lead him to it; he was glad, in a funny way, that his lonely years had culminated into a path where again, he would be depending on someone else. Harrison felt bad using Magpie's hand and shoulder to regain some balance with the knowledge that the other man was surviving with cancer. With cancer! If the zombies, wild game and feral human beings don't wouldn't eat him alive, Magpie can bet that the infectious little overgrowths will.

"Cancer, eh? What from, the bombs or a prior cause?"

[Ekurian]

Magpie

---

"A mix of both, most likely," Magpie replied, leading the way around the decimated streets. "I was a kid when the bombs hit, and I was a kid when I started smoking. They both sorta catalysed the effect, I guess."

Something large and metal began to creep into the field of view. It was four men tall, and spanned across the horizon, only broken by ruined buildings in the foreground. Magpie pointed at the metal structure- which was now evidently some sort of barrier. "Almost there, that's the gate.."

The trail he had been following seemed to be made up of a convergence of footprints, and was cleared mostly of debris. They were now close enough to see that the gate was made up of scrap metal; bits of car, train and red bus were all welded and bolted together. Wire was strung across the top and where there wasn't wire, there were spikes of metal. A massive pair of hinged gates, the chains on the other side visible through a small gap, loomed over them.

"Behold," Magpie said, waving an arm up, "The Gates of Heaven, in all their pearly glory." He chuckled at his own little dark joke. "They'll send someone out to come and greet us in a few seconds. They always do."

[Azerate]

Harrison

---

Harrison looked up to the barrier between him and clean water, a softish bed and some sort of food. The spikes discouraged the near 40 year old from climbing, the sheer amount of metal bound and welded together told him there was no brute force he could inflict that would make a dent. He pressed his hand against the metal and took it back quickly, the metal hot to the touch. He supposed this was the metal he had hit with his rock in an attempt to find Haven. "This is the best news I've known in twenty years. Is Haven protected all the way around by a gate like this? How many are inside?"

[Ekurian]

Magpie & NPC Guard

---

"As far as I'm aware, yeah the fence goes all the way around. There are a few... weak spots here and there, mostly from when Haven's been attack by stuff. Nothing has ever gotten in though, at least, to my knowledge. I think there's about forty, fifty people living in there."

As Magpie spoke, there was the sound of footsteps on gravelly ground and a chinking of metal. The chains holding the gate closed were moved aside by a pair of hands and the gates slowly slid open. A gap wide enough for a man to pass through appeared, with a man standing in it. He was brandishing a crossbow. Two other armed men were visible just behind him

He squinted at Magpie and Harrison for a moment, crossbow pointed down but with his finger on the trigger. After a second glance at Magpie, he relaxed.
"You've been gone a while," the guard said, then pointed at Harrison, "Who's this guy?"

"He's my pet zombie. I'm bringing him in so he can eat you all and I can sit on a throne made of your bones, " Magpie replied with a sarcastic tone. "He's a guy who's come halfway across the Wastes to get somewhere safe, who the fuck d'you think he is?"

"Fine, whatever. You know the drill," the guard came out of the gap- the other two filled it - to get a better look at Magpie and Harrison.

"Yeah yeah," Magpie sighed, taking his backpack off his back and removing his jacket. He showed the guard his arms- one of them had a deep laceration, but it didn't look like a bite. "I haven't been bitten, just fell over." The guard moved to lift his tattered vest up, but Magpie did it for him; he had a few scars, some old and some new, and his ribs were showing through his skin. He pulled his vest back down, saying, "And no, I haven't been followed by anything."

The guard grunted and let Magpie put his jacket back on. Magpie coughed a few times and waited for the man to finish interrogating Harrison.

"Right," the guard said, turning to Harrison, "You saw how it goes- have you been bitten and or hurt on your way here?" He questioned, running an eye over Harrison, checking for any signs of blood.

[Azerate]

Harrison

---

Harrison listened to the speech between Magpie and the guard, his head swimming from the heat. He was barely listening as he watched Magpie reveal a laceration on his arm. If it wasn't taken care of soon, it would get infected.

The guard was asking him if he was injured, and he himself wasn't sure. He plunged his sword a few inches into the dirt and he unbuckled his shield from his back, taking off his poncho, vest and shirt. His back felt so weird without the weight of the shield, but it felt good to be free for a moment. He examined himself, and noticed just how dirty and gross he really was. So far the only marks were old scars, brands from black-smithing accidents and a dark tan. From there he felt his legs, and felt only the same. He was about to take off his boots but remembered that he never took them off when people were around to smell it, so he declined, embarrassed.

"I don't think I've been infected. Although I would like a bath or two, if you don't mind."

[Ekurian]

Magpie & NPC Guard

---

"Hnn," the guard gestured at the gate and the other two moved aside. "Right, you can come in. New guy, I'll say this once- don't cause trouble. We've got a good thing here, and we don't need some nut case ruining it." With that, the guard re-entered Haven through the gate.

"Everyone's so friendly and cheerful here, don't you agree?" Magpie smirked and followed after the guard. He paused and half turned, talking over his shoulder, "You can come with me or make your own way around Haven. I've gotta trade off some of this junk -" he lifted his backpack a little in indication "- but I could do it on the way. Your choice."

[Azerate]

Harrison

---

Harrison hastily redressed as the guards were convinced that he was clean from infection, his shield's strap and his poncho grasped tightly in his hand and the sword in the other. Perhaps he would find a place within to erect a cot and a tent. Lay his sword and shield down and really start getting to work on real weapons, on cultivating food, on repopulating if that was even an option anymore. He had made it, but another struggle was soon to be upon him. Not like the solo adventure scared him; Harrison would be the last man to say "No, don't leave me!" but he really wasn't in much of a position to complain or linger on familiarities. Besides, if there were only fifty people in Haven, how rare could the pale man's company really be?

He eyed Magpie's sack, which up until now he had assumed was filled with survival gear. If it was commodities, Harrison just had to know what exactly was in there. "I was going to go find a shower or something. But, Friend," he started, "In that bag of yours, do you have any cigarettes?"

[Ekurian]

Magpie

---

Magpie paused for a moment, swung his backpack around to his front, opened it and said "Harrison, you read my mind." He rummaged around for a moment, before producing a slightly crumpled, once-white packet. He zipped the backpack up again and returned it to his back, then opened the packet. Inside were a few cigarettes that weren't too badly crushed.
"You know, it's funny," Magpie said, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a box of matches, "The amount of these that were just lying around just after the bombs fell, you'd have thought England was a non-smoking country. But nowadays finding some is about as likely as finding the Queen and her Corgis."
He took a cigarette and, holding it in his lips, struck a match and lit it. Putting the matches in the same hand as the packet, he offered them to Harrison.

Taking a drag on the cigarette, he gestured at the interior of Haven, the little white stick now between his long bony fingers.
"Water we've got, soap we probably ain't. I might be able to get you some, if we're lucky," smoke trailed from his lips as he spoke. "Most people don't live too close to the gates," he continued, "In case anyone- or thing- gets in that's feeling a bit peckish."

True enough, the ruins they were standing among, and those just ahead, seemed mostly devoid of any signs of habitation. A little further down the road- which was just that, an old road cleared out- the remains of the buildings had been repaired and tacked together with scrap metal and wood. A few even had holes filled in with bricks taken from the unused buildings. Ropes, chains and wire criss-crossed between the 'houses', with small lanterns handing from them. There was the odd gap, where a local had cleared away the rubble to make way for an attempt to grow food. Each patch showed varied signs of success. There were paths winding around everywhere, leading to the old River Thames, or the former Clock Tower of Big Ben.
"There's room for improvement, definitely. But most are just concerned with staying alive than expanding."

((Ooc: give me the go ahead once you've posted, and I can move us into Haven Proper.))

[Azerate]

Harrison

---

Harrison took a peek into the soft pack of cigarettes and pulled out a slightly flattened one. Compared to his pitiful attempt at tobacco growing and rolling in his earlier years, this cigarette was legitimately the most welcome cigarette in many years. He popped it onto his lips and it stuck there as he lit a match, inhaling. The smoke was stale and coarse and Harrison did not care one bit. He puffed like a train for a moment until the strong rush of nicotine surged into his brain. He smiled at Magpie. "I don't care about soap as much as I do about cool water on my head. I can always make the soap later."

Harrison turned his gaze into the camp as they moved into it; The area closest to the gate seemed like the spot Harrison would want to be. He knew that once he regained his strength he would regain his mind and soon, his hands would be busy on improvements. He puffed harder and surveyed the pathways, the patch of farming land and the inter-connected lighting system. "It's pleasant, I'll give ya that. But you're right, there is wide open room for improvement. I mean, if shufflers are getting in through the main gate, we obviously need a better gate, right? Where are all your craftsmen? Dead?"

Frankly now that Harrison wasn't in the journalism business anymore, he felt comfortable building and making. He was somewhat glad that he was stuck in a place where electricity and cellphones and the internet were completely absent. This little part of the human race was now very little like the rest of the world; The residents of Haven must sustain a society instead of demand machines do it for them. Through several trial-and-error tests, Harrison and Brian had worked out how to make soaps, explosives and fuels alike, re-discovered forging weapons and attempted welding, worked the dusty soil to produce a few vegetables and fortified most every building they came in contact with. What they didn't fortify they scavenged for inventions. As he walked further inward, he sighed to himself. "Brian totally missed out on this."


(( Mmk, we can move it now. :3 ))