Carson cocked an eyebrow at her. "You know this guy?"<br/><br/>"What she means is, she missed having me around, because those of us who choose to skip out on the whole fish-in-a-barrel town life aesthetic are invaluable when it comes to local threats and news." Max grinned at her. "Hi, Malia."<br/><br/>The Strider definitely didn't like how he was looking at her, and stepped between them. He pointed the hatchet--which must have also once belonged to Gregor--at the boy and fixed him with his iciest glare. "Just explain why the hell you brought me out here."<br/><br/>"Well, you were<i>supposed</i>to come alone, but fine. I get being cautious in times like these. I would be too, if I had anyone I could bring along to steal other people's shit and generally just glare at them." He stood and pulled the boot on, then put his hands on his hips. The playful look in his eye faded, and he heaved a heavy sigh. "So. No doubt you know about this group of fellows with the skull tattoo, right? The ones targeting settlements? They've been wiping out whole swathes of what little is left of civilization."<br/><br/>"We know that much already."<br/><br/>"Right, right, but do you know this--the skulls aren't the entirety of it. They're just the faction that's been infiltrating the Striders. They sneak into the ranks, learn the tricks and ins and outs, get the gear--and then they use it to further the goals of the group. There's different markers for each part. The fake Striders call themselves Death's Vanguard. Subtle, I know." He knelt down and pulled another of Malia's knives out of his belt, sparing a moment to wink at her before he used the tip to draw in the dirt. He drew a large X, and in each section filled in a different shape.<br/><br/>"The skulls here, the Vanguard, they're more or less the biggest part of it, or the deadliest," Maxim explained. In the next quarter he drew a small syringe. "These guys call themselves the Doctors, I think. Something like it. Then there's the War Dogs," he continued, drawing a pair of crossed blades. "And finally the Gluttons." He drew a simple circle. "These four have been working together, but I dunno how. I just know that a few days ago, while I was traveling in this getup, a Strider stopped me and started asking all about what I thought about 'the future' and what mankind had to offer, why I kept on protecting people who were doomed anyway."<br/><br/>Carson took it in, stepping around to inspect the sketch in the dirt. "So this... Death's Vanguard... they're wiping out key members of settlements while using Striders as a cover. What about the rest? What do they do?"<br/><br/>"No idea, actually. After I learned the names I agreed to sleep on it, then slit the man's throat as he slept and hightailed it here. I knew a Strider would come to replace the dead one, see, so I figured I'd let you know just. As soon as I could, honestly."<br/><br/>"Why? Thieves like you don't profit from what I do."<br/><br/>"No, but I do profit from the villages being around. And for all my free-spirited, uncaged nature, I'm not all that eager to see humanity kick the bucket. Someone's got to do something, right?"