The Prospector: A Rifts story
Posted: Sun Jan 22, 2017 6:38 pm
The following is based on the Rifts RPG, published by Palladium Books and Kevin Siembieda. Rifts, D-Bee, Fingertooth, Larmac, Krak, Quick-Flex, D’norr Devilman, Techno-Wizard, Flooper, and any other trademarked terms I missed are owned by Kevin Siembieda and Palladium Books Inc.
Let me know what you think. Any suggestions are welcome.
The Prospector part 1
Hob let his robot horse plod along at it’s own pace along the road to Waterltown; he was in no rush to get home since his rent was due and he hadn’t got as much for his artifacts that he had hoped to get. Sure, he knew the Fingertooth who was his regular buyer paid him fairly, it was just that it would have been nice to get a little extra. Between his rent and the repairs his equipment needed, he was left with very little to save. But the market for pre-Rifts trinkets was weak, and so he was lucky to have gotten what he had. It was disappointing considering how much effort he had spent salvaging them. No, he mentally corrected himself, prospecting for them.
He kept to the right edge of the road so faster travellers could pass him, although there was very little. As he approached the bridge over the Gran River, he saw a group of people on the road before it standing beside a damaged hovercycle. One, standing with their back to him, wore the hooded robes of a mage. The other four, facing the mage, were wearing piecemeal armour. He could tell they were a Larmac, a Krak, a Quick-Flex, and a human, and they seemed to be threatening the mage. As his horse drew closer, he considered going around them and ignoring the situation, but the Larmac looked straight at him and growled out, “You got a problem?”
Hob drew his horse up and stared the reptilian D-Bee. “I didn’t until now.” With that, he put his hand on his holstered laser pistol. He didn’t want a fight, but being challenged made him not want to back down. And while he may not look like an imposing figure, being an ordinary bald human in his late 30s wearing battered plastic man armour, but he was betting that these thugs were more used to getting their way through intimidation instead of force and would back down, even if they still had the numerical advantage.
The Larmac, who seemed to be the leader of the bandits, glared at him for several moments, and then snarled out, “This is too much trouble.” He gestured towards the woods that ran alongside the road and then he and the thugs began backing towards the treeline. Hob spurred his horse up so that he was with the mage, keeping his eyes on them.
After they disappeared, the mage turned to him and said in a feminine voice, “Thank you.” She pulled down her hood, revealing the tan-red skin, short horns, and purple, gourd-like back of head of a D’norr Devilman. (Devilwoman? He wasn’t sure of the terminology) “You came along just in time.”
Hob chuckled and replied, “I’m handy like that. So, I can tell that you’re not from around here. Where you headed?”
“To the Institute, to continue my training,” she responded.
He nodded. That made sense since the Institute was the biggest Tech center and many techno-wizards worked there. “Well, how about I give you a ride the rest of the way? Oh, and my name’s Hobert, by the way, although everyone calls me Hob.”
She gave him a small smile and said, “My name is Larfia, and I won’t mind a ride.” He helped her up behind him and when she was holding on, he started the horse off on a trot. Having her pressed up close to him reminded Hob of how long it had been since he was with a woman. It didn’t take long to reach the gates of Waterltown and after passing through them, the front entrance of the Institute. Larfia got down and said, “Thanks you again for rescuing me, and for the ride. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime.” With that, she gave him a big smile before turning and entering the Institute.
Hob sat there on the horse, dumbfounded. When she had smiled at him, he felt a funny sensation run through his chest, something he had never felt before. After a few minutes, he turned the horse and headed to his apartment in Waterltown. Arriving there, he parked the horse and walked into the building in a daze. That was broken by the shout of, “Where’s your rent?!”
Hob saw the short figure of his landlord Bort, the Flooper’s ears flapping as he hurried up. “Yer behind again, and I can get paying tenants for your place, no problem,” the D-Bee said gruffly.
Hob sighed. Bort did the minimal amount of work around the apartments beyond collecting the rent. Still, he also kept the place secure and Hob knew his few belongings were safe while he was away. He pulled out the money and replied, “I got everything I owe you right here.”
“Floop floop!” Bort exclaimed as he grabbed them. He had a tendency to lapse into his native tongue when he got excited, such as when he was given money. After making sure the rent was all there, he turned away and said over his shoulder, “All right, yer fine for this month, but be on time for next.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Hob muttered as he went to his apartment.
Elsewhere in the former province of Ontario, the four bandits were returning to their hideout, a former bar. Several dozen other bandits were already there, lounging around. The Larmac headed for the back office where the employer of the bandit gang was set up. He was a large cyborg with only his head, sporting bushy grey hair and a beard, remaining human. He was sitting in a large, almost throne like, chair and wore a sheep’s head on a chain around his neck. He looked at the Larmac and asked in his distinctive accent, “So how did things go, baoy?”
“Went good, Oviskull. Shook down a bunch of travellers like usual,” came the guttural reply.
Oviskull Evad narrowed his eyes and said lowly, “You’re keeping something from me.”
The Larmac shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “Well, some vagabond came along when we were dealing with a D’norr. We could of taken him, but it wouldn’t have been worth trouble so…”
Oviskull exploded from his chair and seized the D-Bee by the throat in a flurry of movement and pinned him against the wall behind him. “What am I paying you for?!” Oviskull yelled at him. “Is it to run away when you get confronted by some tramp? NO!” He held the Larmac there for a moment, before releasing his grip and letting him sag to the floor. He continued in a calmer voice. “What I’m being paid for, and what I in turn pay you for, is to make people afraid to travel the road, and to stretch out the Ohpeepi so they can’t defend it properly. And if you run from the least little opposition, well, that just isn’t going to happen.” He turned and went back to his chair. “Now, I’m just giving you a warning for now, baoy, because you’re needed, but make sure that the next some vagabond shows some backbone…” He settled heavily into the chair. “You break it.”
Let me know what you think. Any suggestions are welcome.
The Prospector part 1
Hob let his robot horse plod along at it’s own pace along the road to Waterltown; he was in no rush to get home since his rent was due and he hadn’t got as much for his artifacts that he had hoped to get. Sure, he knew the Fingertooth who was his regular buyer paid him fairly, it was just that it would have been nice to get a little extra. Between his rent and the repairs his equipment needed, he was left with very little to save. But the market for pre-Rifts trinkets was weak, and so he was lucky to have gotten what he had. It was disappointing considering how much effort he had spent salvaging them. No, he mentally corrected himself, prospecting for them.
He kept to the right edge of the road so faster travellers could pass him, although there was very little. As he approached the bridge over the Gran River, he saw a group of people on the road before it standing beside a damaged hovercycle. One, standing with their back to him, wore the hooded robes of a mage. The other four, facing the mage, were wearing piecemeal armour. He could tell they were a Larmac, a Krak, a Quick-Flex, and a human, and they seemed to be threatening the mage. As his horse drew closer, he considered going around them and ignoring the situation, but the Larmac looked straight at him and growled out, “You got a problem?”
Hob drew his horse up and stared the reptilian D-Bee. “I didn’t until now.” With that, he put his hand on his holstered laser pistol. He didn’t want a fight, but being challenged made him not want to back down. And while he may not look like an imposing figure, being an ordinary bald human in his late 30s wearing battered plastic man armour, but he was betting that these thugs were more used to getting their way through intimidation instead of force and would back down, even if they still had the numerical advantage.
The Larmac, who seemed to be the leader of the bandits, glared at him for several moments, and then snarled out, “This is too much trouble.” He gestured towards the woods that ran alongside the road and then he and the thugs began backing towards the treeline. Hob spurred his horse up so that he was with the mage, keeping his eyes on them.
After they disappeared, the mage turned to him and said in a feminine voice, “Thank you.” She pulled down her hood, revealing the tan-red skin, short horns, and purple, gourd-like back of head of a D’norr Devilman. (Devilwoman? He wasn’t sure of the terminology) “You came along just in time.”
Hob chuckled and replied, “I’m handy like that. So, I can tell that you’re not from around here. Where you headed?”
“To the Institute, to continue my training,” she responded.
He nodded. That made sense since the Institute was the biggest Tech center and many techno-wizards worked there. “Well, how about I give you a ride the rest of the way? Oh, and my name’s Hobert, by the way, although everyone calls me Hob.”
She gave him a small smile and said, “My name is Larfia, and I won’t mind a ride.” He helped her up behind him and when she was holding on, he started the horse off on a trot. Having her pressed up close to him reminded Hob of how long it had been since he was with a woman. It didn’t take long to reach the gates of Waterltown and after passing through them, the front entrance of the Institute. Larfia got down and said, “Thanks you again for rescuing me, and for the ride. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime.” With that, she gave him a big smile before turning and entering the Institute.
Hob sat there on the horse, dumbfounded. When she had smiled at him, he felt a funny sensation run through his chest, something he had never felt before. After a few minutes, he turned the horse and headed to his apartment in Waterltown. Arriving there, he parked the horse and walked into the building in a daze. That was broken by the shout of, “Where’s your rent?!”
Hob saw the short figure of his landlord Bort, the Flooper’s ears flapping as he hurried up. “Yer behind again, and I can get paying tenants for your place, no problem,” the D-Bee said gruffly.
Hob sighed. Bort did the minimal amount of work around the apartments beyond collecting the rent. Still, he also kept the place secure and Hob knew his few belongings were safe while he was away. He pulled out the money and replied, “I got everything I owe you right here.”
“Floop floop!” Bort exclaimed as he grabbed them. He had a tendency to lapse into his native tongue when he got excited, such as when he was given money. After making sure the rent was all there, he turned away and said over his shoulder, “All right, yer fine for this month, but be on time for next.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Hob muttered as he went to his apartment.
Elsewhere in the former province of Ontario, the four bandits were returning to their hideout, a former bar. Several dozen other bandits were already there, lounging around. The Larmac headed for the back office where the employer of the bandit gang was set up. He was a large cyborg with only his head, sporting bushy grey hair and a beard, remaining human. He was sitting in a large, almost throne like, chair and wore a sheep’s head on a chain around his neck. He looked at the Larmac and asked in his distinctive accent, “So how did things go, baoy?”
“Went good, Oviskull. Shook down a bunch of travellers like usual,” came the guttural reply.
Oviskull Evad narrowed his eyes and said lowly, “You’re keeping something from me.”
The Larmac shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “Well, some vagabond came along when we were dealing with a D’norr. We could of taken him, but it wouldn’t have been worth trouble so…”
Oviskull exploded from his chair and seized the D-Bee by the throat in a flurry of movement and pinned him against the wall behind him. “What am I paying you for?!” Oviskull yelled at him. “Is it to run away when you get confronted by some tramp? NO!” He held the Larmac there for a moment, before releasing his grip and letting him sag to the floor. He continued in a calmer voice. “What I’m being paid for, and what I in turn pay you for, is to make people afraid to travel the road, and to stretch out the Ohpeepi so they can’t defend it properly. And if you run from the least little opposition, well, that just isn’t going to happen.” He turned and went back to his chair. “Now, I’m just giving you a warning for now, baoy, because you’re needed, but make sure that the next some vagabond shows some backbone…” He settled heavily into the chair. “You break it.”