Last Harvest Fest I went to was near Madtown. They scheduled that brawling contest right after the drinking contest. Turned into a reg’lar free-for-all it did. Bet a Merican planned it.
It seems like all the faiths celebrate the Harvest the same way: with food, food and more food. Or maybe that’s just Steel Horse?
Fall used to be Nemesis season, but them Crow Eaters purged a whole lot of those TVs outta the faith a few years ago. Now what have we got to entertain us? Thrill kills. Just thrill kills.
Steel Horse’s very own Mayor is sponsoring a race. Seth’s daddy is rumored t’be a DJ, ya know? Fat lotta good that does him, considering he went and flipped the switch and became one of those Unstable. In any case, us Steel Bloods will represent, promise you that, but one of them filthy Rabbit Clan punks’ll probably cheat and win anyway.
Someone’s been talking about gettin’ them ol’ navy folks together for a kinda reunion. Would be nice if they could put all that sailor training to work somehow.
People are getting wind about that Pit the Helldivers found last trade. Someone better make sure Ripcord gets in good with one of the Judges before people start staking claims all over the place.
A few dock workers reported some of them swamp raiders are lookin’ awful froggy lately - quite literally. Green faces, webbed hands, you name it. Trade office took tha report, said they was lookin’ inta it. That was the last I heard.
A small band of Unstable have been spotted making what appear to be patrols all along the perimeter of Steel Horse. Could be they’re around for the Festival, but they seem far too disciplined for shooting games and good times. Luckily there’s only a few of them, but even so, those battle formations look fierce.
One of Bloom’s lead scientists is working on solving the Aberrant problem created by the Radio Tower. They might be lookin’ for science types willing to assist, and good folk willing to participate in the experiment. Maybe something good will come out of it for everybody.
Trixie passed the message to some friendlies that she’s looking for help to clear out that old Depot on Saturday morning. Says it will give the town bragging rights when them nice investor folk show back up that afternoon.
Las’ night, I was putin’ up the cattle before the cattle drive, and wouldn’t ya know it, all my steer wrasslin gear was missin’. I found it out in the shack later, all wet and covered in stinky seaweed, like someone had been dredgin’ the lake with it all summer long. None of my hands could answer as to why. I swar’ on my papa’s grave if it was that little Montjoy Trickleback, I’ll tan his hide myself!!