<div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><strong><em>A Guide, a Loner, and a Pilot...</em></strong></span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><em>'<strong>Sasha</strong>' - The Guide<br/><strong>Ivan Trodnik</strong> - The Loner<br/>'<strong>Lex</strong>' - The Pilot<br/><br/><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: verdana;">The Great Swamps - Abandoned Church</span></span></strong></em></span></div><br/><br/>The thugs didn't see what was coming towards them, their focus too heavy for the time on both Ivan and Sasha, whom were still firing a few rounds here and there to keep them distracted, though a few getting quite close. It wasn't until Lex had allowed herself to become visible, did they really get themselves into a shitstorm. The bandits were overwhelmed, one taking a shot right into the shoulder and falling down as the others get killed or duck to avoid being worm food. Both rifles firing from the church were deafening enough to finally show them that they were going to stand their ground and for these crazies to back off and get out of here. That sent the message alright, one shouting out to 'pull back' as they picked up one of their wounded and began to make a mad dash for the thicket and reeds behind them, to resend into the swamps. Once they were out of sight, Sasha waved his arm up for them to cease fire.<br/><br/>It seemed that they had won their little skirmish...for now. This would allow them to take a breather, both Loners taking a deep breath and calling Lex over.<strong>"Alright...I think we're in the clear. Search them for any gear or weapons...we could use the ammo"</strong>he called out, checking over to Ivan to ensure his wounds were healing. While they indeed patched him up, he would still need to see a doctor, or at least a better medic than Sasha was.<br/><br/><br/>~~~~~<br/><br/><br/><div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><strong><em>Last Train to Pripyat...</em></strong></span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 10pt;"><em><strong>Gregor</strong> - The Huntsman<br/><strong>Jo</strong> - Unknown<br/><br/><strong><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: verdana;">Dark Valley - Rundown Farmstead</span></span></strong></em></span></div><br/><br/>With 'Jo' packing a few bags and grabbing whatever they could, Gregor was just glad they had not been spotted or noticed by anyone outside. He knew fairly well they were outnumbered at least ten, maybe twelve to two...not very good odds. Nevertheless, as long as they kept things quiet they could try and sneak out, maybe make their way to a friendly camp or somewhere they could lay low for awhile.<strong>"Just grab whatever you can"</strong>he nods, stuffing the M1911 he had into his pants pocket, though in the menage of loot all over the tables and floor he did find a nice holster for his newly found weapon. Sliding the pistol inside while also finding a good hunting shotgun, he grabbed some extra shells, a gas mask with filters, what appeared to be an old map and compass set, and some other food and water.<br/><br/>Stuffing it all into his bag and pockets, they were ready to get out of here. Looking around up the stairwell to ensure no one else was in the house, he walked over, apologizing to the man they had silenced and hit him over the head with the butt of his shotgun, knocking the man out cold. No need for him to shout out to his friends or get loose.<br/><br/><strong>"Alright, let's get out of here..."</strong>he whispered, leading up the stairs, waiting for Jo to follow close behind.