Leyline super close (easily topped off with ppe)
Sunset
The harrowing tales of the 13th and how they escaped Dweomer in Poppy’s baking wagon bacame a bit of an urban folk song as time wore on. It went a little like this:
Shotgun rang out,
A big boom like this.
The driver swerved nearly a miss,
He hit a mail box and not the baby,
Or maybe... Halelua, Halelua.
Ice dragon robots were on the ground,
Championed by a desk clerk who couldn’t make a sound,
Tryinging to get an edge word in
Instead found a back massage at a wayward inn...
Crying haleluia, halleluia.
The gates were closing and somethig was a miss,
The valiant 13th drove on like this.
Fire was traded and Shot were exchanged
And yet no one, no one was maimed...
Haleluia, Haleluia.
Over the radio an agry man
popped and crackled just like this band.
With an evil hiss swore revenge and said something like this,
” Haleluia... Haleluia... Haleluia....ahhahahhh...”
With the gates firmly behind the intrepid adventurers the wagon moved north. Poppy seemed a bit nervous as she took inventory of the supplies or rather the lack of supplies she had on hand. Her kitchen did seem rather sparse but she kept to herself mostly pouring through her cook book,
Poppy muttered sullenly, ” Damn, those high lords... Left without much of what I need... Maybe when we get to one of those gamblin boats we can make a deal.”
Leylines crissed crossed this area of the magic zone as the team made its overland journey north. The wagon while a converted mountaineer still ad the big wheels that traversed just over about everything. As the sun was setting the wagon pulled into view of something strange and mighty...
A green hillside with gigantic swords plunged into the ground was before them. A brilliant leyline streamed between them. That is when the sound of about a dozen road hogs roared behind them, in the fading light indeed about 12 headlights shown a mile or two back.
Poppy now for the second time seemed to regret not bringing her rail gun. Her wagon was made for baking not war. She looked to the three heroes with a slight hint of apprehension, ” I saw how you all did getting out of Dweomer... I trust you more than frosting itself. What is the call?”