Post by Mr. Deathclaw on Feb 6, 2012 0:42:29 GMT -6
[[ /location.Freeside_East_Gate ]]
KA-PLOW!
Another shot from the rifle and another hit just from across the field. Bullet invading the thick hide and sending a small spatter of blood into the air and splashing against the dirt. Though it took five shots before the Brahmin finally went down, legs too weak to carry it's weight. A cloud of dirt rose as it collapsed, the luggage it carried on it's back slipping off and falling beneath the creature.
Two heads and twice the bullets used to bring it down. The Hunter made no move to get closer to wounded target, settling down in a crouch behind the broken rubble of an abandoned building. The lone figure just behind the wall was dressed in tatters of different kinds of material that only covered the essentials. Leather armor for the most with mixes of hide and skin from animals he'd come across in the Wastes. But one thing stood out that singled him out from others. The skull helm; the mark of a Fiend. What wasn't covered only showed sun-touched and battle worn skin. He kept his rifle aimed, the barrel glinting in the sun.
They were just outside the tall walls of Freeside, adjacent to the little Gun Runner's kiosk. Where traveling merchants and their bodyguards passed by frequently. From time to time you would even catch one of the snazzy suits of a King follower or maybe one of those Doctors from that fort walk around. Those were rare. But the lone man wasn't looking for one of those men. Not today. Not now. Not this time. It was too early to hunt for the man in Black and White. This was for pure fun and sport. He had run out of a few things. He was sure whoever came by would have what he was looking for.
With a Brahmin down for the count, sounding dying calls for help, he expected one of the merchants to come running by any time now. For now, he'd wait it out for one of them to come. Then he could move in.
KA-PLOW!
Another shot from the rifle and another hit just from across the field. Bullet invading the thick hide and sending a small spatter of blood into the air and splashing against the dirt. Though it took five shots before the Brahmin finally went down, legs too weak to carry it's weight. A cloud of dirt rose as it collapsed, the luggage it carried on it's back slipping off and falling beneath the creature.
Two heads and twice the bullets used to bring it down. The Hunter made no move to get closer to wounded target, settling down in a crouch behind the broken rubble of an abandoned building. The lone figure just behind the wall was dressed in tatters of different kinds of material that only covered the essentials. Leather armor for the most with mixes of hide and skin from animals he'd come across in the Wastes. But one thing stood out that singled him out from others. The skull helm; the mark of a Fiend. What wasn't covered only showed sun-touched and battle worn skin. He kept his rifle aimed, the barrel glinting in the sun.
They were just outside the tall walls of Freeside, adjacent to the little Gun Runner's kiosk. Where traveling merchants and their bodyguards passed by frequently. From time to time you would even catch one of the snazzy suits of a King follower or maybe one of those Doctors from that fort walk around. Those were rare. But the lone man wasn't looking for one of those men. Not today. Not now. Not this time. It was too early to hunt for the man in Black and White. This was for pure fun and sport. He had run out of a few things. He was sure whoever came by would have what he was looking for.
With a Brahmin down for the count, sounding dying calls for help, he expected one of the merchants to come running by any time now. For now, he'd wait it out for one of them to come. Then he could move in.