The Trading Post

As morning broke on a day with no name it brought with it a warm wind from the east, rattling the scrap-chimes and whistling through the cracks of Trading Post AB-468 Bravo or as everyone with a soul instead of a hard drive called it; Patterson's Provisions. The trading post was built into the ruin of a refueling station that held a long history of being renovated, fortified, garrisoned, blown up, infested, purified and repurposed into a humble oasis for weary travelers, merchants and mercenaries alike. Filled to the brim with old world oddities, terrible tech, and nourishing foodstuffs for the long road ahead of them to what passes for civilization in these parts.

Being at the center of the middle of nowhere between the city of Gravelpit and Shelter 15 had made for a mostly peaceful existence and Grint only had to deal with the odd couple of manders that prowled around the water pumps. He hated wasting the bullets on the overgrown lizards but his crossbow wouldn't be able to pierce their leathery hides before they mauled and dragged him back to their nests for an early morning snack, or worse. Grint kept his seat behind the front counter for most of the morning and flicked through a tattered old magazine about a mall in the sky while enjoying a cigar he had traded for earlier, the trader said it was from a place called Kooba and it only cost Grint a half weeks ration package and six bottles of boiled water.

That morning the only other bit of business he had was getting around to cleaning a bunch of mixed jewelry in an old wood box he found in the ruins nearby. The box itself was nice enough to fetch a hefty value with it's intricate old world carvings and it even had a lamellophone that would play music, if only he had the winding key. The jewelery inside was not much to get excited about since most of the time the gold would just be cut or melted down to be used as improvised buckshot although the heart shaped locket might get him a decent trade, anything with compartments was worth something to someone. The locket was tarnished and spattered with a fine spray of what Grint could only guess was blood from...something and the back had an inscription on it but the chaos of time and the unfortunate events of its previous owner rendered it completely illegible. The blood was easy enough to remove with a bit of HolyCola and drain cleaner, the mixture worked quickly as it bubbled and foamed, eating away the grime and blood returning most of the lockets original golden luster.

The door suddenly pushed open and a light breeze swept through the front of the trading post. Grint looked up over the rim of his glasses and nodded to the figure now standing in the doorway. Grint greeted the wastrel with a quick nod and turned his attention back to the locket while the customer wandered amongst the general goods and supply gathering a few things and browsing the rest.

Grint noticed the locket had a dent in the back, where the inscription was, he thought that maybe its previous owner had rubbed the back of it, perhaps out of worry during those crazy first few days when their peace was interrupted so suddenly. causing the dip and wearing out the inscription. Or maybe it was rubbed to its nearly erased state to forget, to not remember the one that had betrayed them or was forever changed by the unfortunate events of the past.

The customer had to slap the counter with their hand to get Grints' attention he was so hypnotized by the renewed glow to the small bauble. He snapped his eyes back into focus on the real world and apologized to the customer as they placed their desired items in the green basket and their trade offer on the table, he could tell it was a ruin runner from Shelter 15 by their dirty orange and blue jumpsuit hiding under the black combat armor and as Grint expected, the trade offer was typically light.

"Can't do the ZetaZap cartridges without something more, wouldn't happen to have any whiskey would you?"

Grint had been doing this long enough to estimate what the wastrel had on him and the customer sighed with frustration grumbled something under their breath and placed three beer cans on the counter.

"Best i can do" ,

Grint cleared his throat and shook his head.

"can't do the army beer for the carts, you got any grenades? you bunker folk like your grenades."

The customer grumbled a little more and took the beer cans off the table and placed a sealed jug of MadJack whiskey in their place. Grint thought about it for a minute and nodded.

"That will do it.", Grint said and examined the jug of whiskey.

The customer gathered their things and walked back out into the wastes, Grint caught a glimpse of a Weatherby 33b lazer carbine nestled next to their backpack. It was dangerous work folks did when going for a run through the ruins of the old world, not to mention the good work the Shelter 15 engineers did to keep the hydro dam churning out electricity allowing the Wild Rose Republic to provide power and running water to everyone in the region.

The wind died down as the sun reached the tip of the sky and Grint could smell the convoy from Gravelpit, he still had a while until they would arrive but their pack bears had already worked up a powerful stink during their travel down from the mountains, hopefully he could offload some of that old dog shampoo, Grint didn't remember what a dog was but the picture on the bottle looked like a small version of the hairy creature the people of Gravelpit used to haul their goods from place to place. Grint decided to look among the scrap jewelry for a chain that might fit through the small loop on the locket and found one that suited it. He poured a small amount of the cleaning solution into a dish with the chain and set it aside next to the heart shaped locket to soak in the solution.

Grint stretched, and made his way to the corral across from the trading post, flipping up his hood to protect himself from the strong rays of the sun. He noticed the water troughs needed refilling so Grint busied himself with that while he waited for the caravan. He could hear the pack bears before he saw them as he was carrying another jug filled with water to the troughs, the beasts made grunting and growling noises as they lumbered along barely noticing the bulky saddle bags and rucksacks tied to their furry bodies. The smell grew stronger as the caravan filed into the paddock and their handlers hitched them to the posts at the water troughs.

"Grint! you old fossil, how goes the 'noon?"

The convoy boss shouted and clapped Grint on the shoulder with his heavy blistered hands.

"Oh you know what they say Clarke; another glorious day in the WRR is reward enough."

The large man smiled and pointed back in the direction they had come from.

"Got ambushed by a bunch of Road Rats a few skips down, might want to get a patrol of troopers up here before they snap at some folks who can't snap back."

"Right, I'll get on it, you folks seemed to have weathered alright"

It was Grints' job to worry about the people under the jurisdiction of the WRR and if marauders were making a push into their territory his humble little trading post was first on their list. Clarke nodded and walked with Grint back towards the main building so he could get on the radio and request a security detail from the local garrison. Clarke looked around the trading post while Grint sat down behind his long wave set.

The old radio transmitter hummed to life as Grint brought the system back online from its midday nap and uploaded the pre-recorded transmission to his comm array. He knew there were at least five other WRR trooper platoons and three Rangers in the area so he had confidence that someone would answer the call.

By the time Grint made his way back to the counter, Clarke was holding the locket in between his thumb and forefinger, mesmerized by the shiny piece of jewelry much like Grint had been while he had cleaned it.

"Pretty nice eh? i found that while digging around the ruins outside. along with that box."

Clarke placed the locket back on the counter and thought for a moment.

"Tell you what, I'll have the locket and ten bottles of that shampoo, those damn bears need a bath before we get to Ronto...for lets say some boxes of first class MREs."

Grint sat back down behind the counter and grabbed the gold locket to look at it perhaps for the last time, trying to estimate it's possible worth in freeze dried prepackaged meals and smiled.

"How many boxes are we talking?"