Friday, June 10, 2011

Off into the sunset...metaphorically speaking?

Ennik sat astride his riding springer and smiled sadly at the three Sandrider kids. The sun was setting over the Westridge Range, and a warm breeze blew through the outskirts of town.

"Well, this is where we part ways," he began nonchalantly.
"Nothing personal, but as ya'll have told me, you can do just as well askin' around Prince Gable for leads on the Bear. I've got no reason to persue this whole thing any further, and you won't be meetin' my terms for tradin' information any time soon."

Tipping his hat at Lyta, he smiled. "Thanks for the company little Lyta. Take care of your brothers." He nudged the springer into a turn, and then broke into a quick trot eastward, back towards the Den and the Desert Wolves.

Ennik had watched Marshal Sullivan get up and walk out the door of the crowded roadhouse. He was stunned. There had been so much information dropped on his lap, but the moment he learned that Spiro had been The Bear's lackey, everything fell into place. There was no more ambiguity, no more self-doubt. Murdering Spiro might have been the only clean kill Ennik had ever committed. All the others had been shaded by the greys of combat and the guilt of having survived while so many of his comrades had not. Ennik knew that he had no personal beef with The Bear. The War of the Alliance was over. What was done was done, and Ennik had a new family now. There was no reason for him to get involved in the massive conspiracy that was being dumped in his lap for reasons beyond his comprehension.

For the first time since he joined the Desert Wolves, he felt like he didn't need a drink to cope with his past. He smiled and rode for home.

Heavy Gear Roleplaying Game


Hermes 72 - Heavy Gear RPG - Most artwork Copyright 2002 Dream Pod 9, Inc.