Though the first night she spends in The Bluffs is uneventful, the next day begins with unwelcome guests. Gwendy is perturbed by the sudden appearance of a quartet at her impromptu camp.

They call themselves the flock of Pastor Anthony Clements, but to all others they're known as The Creeps: a religious enclave eager to spread good will (and beverages) to all who happen by. Distrusting their motives, Gwendy attempts to politely extricate herself from the weirdos when their spokesperson Rebecca snatches the vault girl's prized Pioneer Scouts Bowie Knife, hoping to force a visit in exchange for it. Thinking fast, Gwendy quotes a bible verse and admonishes Rebecca for her sin of theft, causing some consternation and the agreement of the well-armed John who asks that the knife be returned.

Free to go, she leaves for the Bluffs with a warning from the Creeps that her visit to The Nest is inevitable, now expected to be far a less friendly one than it could have been had she agreed to go with them.

A Can In A Tree

The wind off the bay gets stronger the higher she climbs, bringing with it the pungent aroma of the blood sea. It tugs at her heavy braid and jingles the pulls on her jacket. Looking across the bay, Gwendy can see that The Nest is larger than she first assumed, a fenced-in coastal town with what must be docks extending out into the water. Black smudges rise from it to be whipped away by the wind. She can see no church tower climbing out of the low buildings... Don't most religions build towers for worship?

In contrast, the silvery trees growing on the bluffs are absolutely massive, many stories high and leaping from the shoulders of smaller and more recognizable ones. Nearing the dense grove she spotted last night, flakes of colour start to gleam at her through the branches. Even at a distance she can now see the 'can' that Mrs Powell mentioned in her tape: a shipping container caught in the branches of the largest silver tree she's seen yet, like a gigantic hand hoisting up a toy train. Though mostly gone to rust in the wet air, patches of ancient enamel still cling to it making the structure almost festive. Wires, ropes, planks and sections of sheet metal reinforce the building and she gawps at it, walking closer until a crunching sound under her boots causes her to stop.

She lifts her foot to see a yawning human skull, its forehead perforated by a large bullet hole.

Voice from above: "That's close enough, vaulty,"

A familiar, high pitched voice calls out from the treehouse and Gwendy draws her gaze away from the ground to catch a bright glassy glint flashing from one of several port holes in the can.

Louise Powell, presumably: "Yell out what you want, or go the fuck away."

Gwendy: "Uhh, hello! My name's Gwendy? Gwendolyn Corner? I'm Jennifer and Nathan's daughter," she calls out, holding a hand up in a placating gesture while letting her backpack fall to the grass.

Gwendy: "I brought you the bear head you asked for in your holotape?" She says, unwrapping the bundle and raising up the bloody trophy.

Louise Powell: "... well holy shit. Stay right there, I'll drop the ladder."

No sign comes from the metal crate for long enough that Gwendy puts the Yao Guai head down with a huff and bundles it back up. Just as she's tying the bloody knot a whipping sound catches her ears. Looking up she sees a rope ladder dangling from a thick branch just bellow the can.

A smaller single length of rope with a dull metal hook dangles from the bottom of the ladder and Gwendy wonders at it.

@ Identify the use of the rope and hook on the ladder
d: (INT)ATHLETICS (TN=11) 2d20=19,20 -> MISS + COMPLICATION
-> Complication: gain the Exhausted Injury truth. +1 difficulty to STR/END based skill checks until able to take time, rest and satiate hunger/thirst. 
=> It must just be some part of the rest of the salvaged material of the ladder, no big deal
=> Only an idiot who has never lived in the wastes doesn't know what the hook is for

With a shrug she moves on, placing both hands on the rope ladder's sections and stepping up. It's difficult going and she is very tired when she reaches the top, thankful to discover metal steaks driven into the thick sections of trunk as helpful hand-holds. Being heavily shaded by the overhead structure, it is understandable that the young vault dweller doesn't immediately see a shadowy form shift near. Just as she differentiates it, the shape moves again, raising a deadly looking rifle.

Louise Powell: "Slowly there. Didn't bring the ladder back with you, so now I get to watch you pull it up the hard way," she says, voice one part caution and one part amusement.

The gun pointed in her direction brooks no argument so she begins to gather the linked ropes into a shapeless heap.

Louise Powell: "Now start from the bottom rung and roll it up, use the strap on that left hand hold to keep it in place."

It is tiring work, hauling up almost ten meters of knotted ladder, and by the end Gwendy is sweating and exhausted. Climbing with the Yao Guai head and her expanded supplies pushed her to the brink before needing a rest. Having done what she was told to do she waits for further instruction but is met with a lengthening moment of appraising silence.

In the shadow of the can house, she can see that Louise is smaller than herself but hides it in a thick, wrapped cloak. The top of her head is bifurcated with what looks like two horns curling down and forward... Helmet? She can' tell from just the silhouette. Gwendy tries to blow a strand of hair away from her brow but it remains stuck to her face by grimy sweat.

Louise: "It's been a few years, and I only knew her for a minnit, but I'm pretty sure you're yer Mama's girl. Let's get the fuck inside."

YOU JUST DON'T KNOW

The mysterious cloaked figure gestures with her hand for Gwendy to follow her up a short set of steps nailed into the tree leading to a loosely closed hatch. She does something with the rim of it, sweeping her hand around one edge of the open lip and a faint clicking sound answers, after which she levers it open completely and advances inside. Head level with the interior, Gwendy can see several small clusters of furniture: an eating area with a plank table covered in dark stains, two corner shelves in an L-shape covered in jars, small boxes and a couple of dog-eared books. A pallet bed on crates along one wall covered in rags, blankets, clothes...

She ducks to keep from knocking her head against a mesh bundle of antlers and small animal skulls once fully inside. All around the structure small rectangular sections have been cut into it, a ring of ports that a rifle and sight might peak through and watch approaching parties, or game. At her feet next to the rim of the hatch is a sawed-off shotgun trap, freshly disabled. Whew.

Louise: "Home sweet, shittin' home... Make yourself comfortable," She says, gesturing to a relatively clutter free crate next to the bed (the only other ass-friendly furniture) "Put the 'Guai head on the table so it can join the conversation."

Gwendy: "Oh, sure," She unwraps the gory bundle and separates the head from the bear stakes and mutt chops, placing it on the plank with a muted splat. "It's kind of funny, the dogs that came to bother the bear's body gave me a much harder. I guess that's why the vault guards always told us to not fight out-numbered."

Louise: "Good advice, might save your life someday."

Gwendy takes a moment to look at the hunter: Bleached white Deathclaw skull for a helmet or mask, raggedy brown cloak with duct taped boots peaking out from under. Ms Powell sets her rifle against a wall then reaches up and removes the helmet, shaking out a head of short, messy blonde hair cut just above the shoulders. Her face is tired and dirty, crows feet in tracks of grime at the sides of her eyes. If Gwendy had to guess she'd say Louise was younger than she was.

Gwendy: "Not to be rude but... you must have been very young when you fought that Yao Guai and met my parents. It had to be at least 5 years ago."

Louise: (With a sad chuckle) "It was, but I wasn't young then, ain't now neither." She looks Gwendy in the eye with a beaten look. There is something deeply sad and hungry about it, drowned in resignation. "I might not look it on account of the 'mutes, but I'm at least 35, maybe 40... I don't count the time much these days."

Of course the vault dweller has heard about mutants, ghouls, other warped folk that call the wider wasteland home. Some have made their way to Fort 73 over the years though few settled near-by, and none have ever been granted residency in the vault. Gwendy blinks and raises her eyebrows, unsure of what to say.

Gwendy: "Well, you look very healthy for your age, better than most other mutants I've seen! The ones near vault 73 are mostly the Skin-Falling-Off kind. Is yours like what the old ghouls have?" She hears herself say it, winces. Probably put her foot in it with that one: No one likes being compared with the decaying and irradiated folk of the wastes, but it was the only touch-point she was familiar with and the awkwardness of Louise's stare made her tongue waggle.

Insult...?
@ Gwendy tries to compare Ms Powell's mutation with ones she's familiar with, not realizing it might offend her
d: (CHA)SPEECH(T) vs (TN=8) Dif=1 2d20=3,8 -> HIT + CRITICAL x3
-> +2 AP (tracked)
=> Louise isn't offended, in-fact, she seems comforted

Maybe its the delivery or the open expression on her face, but when Gwendy compares her hosts mutation to the slow aging of the Ghouls with no hate in her voice something seems to unhook and relax in Ms Powell. A smile that emphasizes the lines at her eyes brightens her face and she nods.

Louise: "Yeah you could say it like that. At least that's what I believe. The rads changed me and I just stopped growing normal, stuck like this," She looks down at her cloaked form, "Could be worse--another of my mum's kids had teeth on the outside. A few were born with boiler-plate cancer that took em young. One of my older brothers had thumbs up his arms (and few of them worked too) I out lived em all though."

She says this last with the same dry venom caught on the holotape recording, a deeply world-weary tone. Gwendy's freckled brow presses together and she sighs, telling Louise that she's sorry about the loss of her family.

Gwendy: "It's different, but I kind of know how you feel. My folks stepped out of our vault to hunt in the forest one day back when I was 13 and just never came back. They were the best foragers and hunters we had, and I loved them a lot. Not knowing what happened to them has been really hard, but the council wouldn't let me leave to look for them until I was 18 and 'old enough to know what that really meant'. Finding your holotape at that Lodge is the first sign I've had of them since I was a kid, even if you met them years ago." She meets Louise's gaze and lets that hang, hoping to draw out details of the encounter.

Louise: (nodding) "It was a pretty wild night. I had to track South a day or so into those godawful woods on account of the Creep-hole being stuffed once again with bickering mouths," She frowns and points her nose towards the west, where Gwendy saw the cooking fires of The Nest from the height of the Bluffs. "Ended up in that glade around the Lodge, thought I'd bed down inside since it still looked half-way safe back then. Little did I fucking know..."

She goes on to tell Gwendy about the night she first encountered the Pinegrail Yao Guai, a tale of intense risk, action, and ultimately grave injury. "A strip out of my leg here, nearly lost my toes on the left, knocked senseless," the tide turning only with the miraculous appearance of two seasoned hunters. Distracting the Yao Guai, Gwendy's mum lead it away from the wounded Louise while her father dragged her to safety, both of them returning after they traded blows with the beast and drove it off.

Louise: "Had my life hanging by a thread that night, and if it wasn't for your mum n' dad staying with me until I was stable you'd have found my bones in that ruin instead of my tape. Cooked me a meal, chatted until I passed out, told me their names." She says, rubbing a finger against her chin. "Guess I promised you I'd pay you back for that fucker with my Deadeye, didn't I?"

A bit of resignation in her voice tells Gwendy that Louise would really hate to do that, but feels like she now must. A beat of silence becomes three, then a long moment. Motes of dust catch in the light coming in the port holes around the rim of the can. Small sounds of friction where the structure makes contact with the tree as the wavy branches are snagged by the wind. Gwendy eventually clears her throat and puts her hands in her lap, turning to the severed beast head a few feet away on the table. She has an idea.

Gwendy: "Actually, all I really want to know is what happened to my folks, to find out if they're still alive. You see, there is this signal..."

She tells her own short story about growing up in the vault with their family friend Holden who wanted to be a hunter but was mostly interested in Pioneer Scouts like her Mum, of the radio system picking up a new transmission the day before her birthday. About the code it contained and how she knows in her bones that it was meant for her to follow and find.

SIDE QUEST: Kill The Rabbid Yao Guai That Attacked Louise Powell

@ Gwendy returns the head of the rad-bear to the woman who gave her the quest via holotape
d: Safe Action - Complete Side Quest -> Gain Side Quest Reward, Gain NPC SECRET about the Quest Giver -> Gain +1 XP
=> NPC SECRET: Meets with unknown people -> Differed to Session 8 for narrative purpose
=> UKNOWN LOCATION Blocker: quest reward exchanged for roll on Blocker Table
d: Quest Blocker Table 1d20=15 -> HUNTED (p.76) See DATA Tab in PipBoy for more Information about this roll
d: Generate Blocker Location: 1d20=19 -> Blocker Location Map Cell#19

Gwendy: "If you have any idea where they might have gone on to after you met them, or anything you've seen that might be related to the signal I'd be so grateful. I think your rifle is better in your hands anyway."

Louise gets up and walks the length of the container to the table and stands in front of it, looking into the dead eyes of the Yao Guai. A quietness fills the room again and Gwendy occupies herself by trying to identify the variety of knick-knacks on the shelves: Jar of bullet shell casings, a rusty wrench with peeling tape on the handle, an AM/FM radio with the case removed, a bag of shoes that look like they came from a bowling alley. A picture-less frame with a lock of hair behind the broken glass.

The ache in her shoulders is the lead singer in a chorus of tired pains belting across her body, and the weight of it almost makes her slide to the floor and use the crate as a pillow. She's wondering if she'll do just that when Louise spins around and fixes the vault dweller with her sharp eyes, red ringed now and watery. Her expression brings a flutter of alarm to Gwendy's chest when she sees that the small woman is very distressed, maybe on the edge of tears.

Louise: "Fuck... Vaulty, you don't know what it's like to live out here. Having to climb to the highest place you can find, just to keep people from shitting on you. How, if someone feels they're even a tiny bit better off than you it gives them license to just-- just bash on you because they can!" Tears well up and track bright clean lines down her face. "...How you start to look at everyone with suspicion, even if you want to be around them because you're desperate and lonely, but you know--YOU JUST KNOW--that they'll drop you from a window, crack you open and take every good thing out of you if you let your guard down. So you don't! You learn to make it on your own out here, far enough away that you don't risk hurt every day, but close enough so you can see it coming when it does... and you wish you could just relax and try to be happy but all you end up doing is questioning your sanity when you can't even define what happiness is because... because you can barely remember feeling it."

Gwendy finds herself sitting up very straight, knees drawn up, hands in her lap as she watches the hunter pace back and forth in front of the severed head. Unwilling to move because moving would add a factor to the high-pitched outpouring of rage from Ms Powell and she wants deeply to leave here with information about her parents, and also her life.

Louise: "But you don't really know all of that, do you? You grew up in a vault with Jenny and Nate to love you, and friends and food and a roof over your head so thick not even the fucking Bombs could break it."

She draws in a shaky breath and lets it fall out of her, turns to the head on the table and half-heartedly sweeps a hand through the flies buzzing around it.

Louise: "Your mum and dad saved my life back then and never wanted anything for it. You killed the thing that almost did me, and don't want anything for it, and... it makes me sick and sad and angry because that IS NOT how things work anymore. Not up here."

She looks back at Gwendy and she can see that the woman has stopped crying, stopped raging. Something has been packed away into a different kind of vault that leaves behind a space in its absence. Space for change, perhaps.

Louise: "You have no idea what this world will do to you if you're not careful. If you don't have someone to watch your back. Which is why I'm coming with you."

Stunned into continuing silence, Gwendy merely raises her eyebrows at the short woman. She hadn't considered Powell traveling with her, or that it would be phrased as a fact rather than a request.

Louise: "Besides, you couldn't see through my rifle scope with all that glass on your nose anyway." Her tone is sarcastic, but a crooked smile lifts her tear streaked cheeks, which Gwendy gladly returns.

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