Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20170222205200/@comment-5543592-20170330234310

Morty's tongue darted out and licked Deaphanie's neck, showing her affection. The cub's large green eyes stared up inquisitively at the woman's face. It sensed something going on, but was unsure what.

The Knight walked behind her, heavy steps falling with dull thuds on the grass. In other parts of the world, the ground would be colourless and bland. The grass in this portion of the Royal Wasteland was healthy and bright.

"What've you got there, Thomas?" The Knight on watch called down to Deaphanie's escort.

"Some wastelander chasing her cat." Knight Thomas replied as they approached the entryway into the outpost. "Going to have the Paladin appraise her."

(If you remember them, the outpost lookslike this, those things the Enclave used from Fallout 3)

They crossed beneath the outpost's entry way, past the panelled barricade.

Two knights sat around, out of their armor, in those tightfitting Brotherhood uniforms. They were seated at a foldable table, in foldable chairs, enjoying their lunch, which had only recently been opened. Their suits of armor stood nearby. They obviously weren't concerned of an ambush-- it was relatively flat terrain all around, they had a look-out, and the outpost had walls that wouldn't repel but concealed what was going on inside it.

The Paladin was marked by the symbolic for his rank painted on the left vambrace and chest of his T-51b power armor. He lacked his helmet, which sat on the metal rollaway table next to him. He was stooped over a terminal which sat on the table beside his helmet, pouring over something on the screen.

"Paladin Hindert." Knight said, saluting. Hindert turned to face them, a frown set into his face. He was in his 40s, with short, crew-cut salt and pepper hair, lines in his face that implied he frowned often, and a jaw broad enough to imply he never would've been anything other than a soldier.

"Who's this?" Hindert asked in a voice that implied more authority than Thomas' had, even without the intimidating distortion a T-51b helmet added.

"A wastelander on the perimeter.  She was running towards the outpost.  I took this off her." He passed the rifle by it's a barrel to Hindert, who took the sniper. He gripped it with the practiced hand of a sharpshooter, looking down the weapon's sights overtop the scope, mock squeezing the trigger.

"This is a fine weapon." He noted to Deaphanie, pulling the rifle away from his face and examining it in full. "Clean, well-cared for.  Where did you come across it?"