Feb 13, 2020 5:15 am
You have been given an opportunity for work. It has come to your attention that the Old Blood Mechanics - those men and women descended from the original engineers who kept humanity alive during the years underground - are searching for help with something. Over the last few weeks, they’ve been quietly putting out the word for individuals with the skills and survival instincts needed to brave the mainland. Maybe you heard from a friend or contact, or maybe you were approached directly and offered a job. Whatever the case, the Old Bloods are looking to hire, and they seem unwilling to go through the usual channels to do it. No involvement from the City in the Sea or its governors. The exact nature of the work is a mystery, but regardless, you answer the call.
And so your presence is requested at the massive fortress-garage of the Old Blood Mechanics; an ancient vine-clad edifice of stone and brick that sits atop the rocky coast of the Tethys Sea. Surrounded by lush jungle and fields of stromatolites, the garage houses the fleet of motorized vehicles owned by the City. Though dated from before the cataclysm, the looming structure still stands to this day; a testament to its immense durability.
Across the water, not too far from the shore, the City in the Sea juts out of the ocean like pillars of stone. From your position on the coast, the dilapidated highrises of the City are black spires silhouetted against the twin moons of the Xenozoic nighttime sky. Only the dim lights of lanterns and cooking fires, pinpricks in the darkness, give any indication that the place is inhabited.
Each of you approaches the main entrance of the fortress-garage. Walls and gates keep the jungle and local wildlife from encroaching. You park your vehicles and leave your mounts within the perimeter. You are then escorted into its recesses by armed guards - Old Bloods sporting assault rifles and leers of suspicion. They don't ask for your weapons, though they seem like they want to.
Few people get the privilege to see the Old Bloods’ base of operations for themselves. And it's a wondrous place. You walk down a short hallway and enter into a sprawling chamber with brick walls, garage doors, steel-framed windows with blacked out glass, and cracked, concrete floors. The room is cavernous; a former factory converted into an automotive workshop and vehicle bay. First and foremost, the place is packed with a significant number of motorized vehicles: sedans, SUVs, cargo trucks, jeeps, motorcycles, and more. Many are in the process of being serviced. Some cars are hoisted up on lifts, while others are on the floor with their hoods open and innards exposed. From the ceiling hang long chains, hoses, wires, and industrial light fixtures. All around you is the distinctive smell of grease, motor oil, and dinosaur guano.
The room contains machinery that some of you have never seen before; technology to whose purpose you could only venture to guess: machines with glass screens, loud rectangular boxes hissing with air, and inscrutable automotive parts strewn across every table and workbench. You see racks and cabinets of hand tools, as well as trays piled with metal nuts and bolts. In a distant corner you catch the white glow of a masked man welding a ram prow to a van. Somewhere else, you hear the roar of an engine revving as a Mechanic tests the gas pedal again and again. Some of the Mechanics, perhaps a dozen in all, stop in the middle of their work to give you a passing glance; those of you who are Old Bloods get a nod and a wave.
The guards lead you through another door and into a second chamber. This one has less activity than the first but still just as expansive. The vehicles in this room appear to be in a more finished state; on the last stages of refurbishment, if not completely restored already. Most are cloaked in tarps and parked along the walls in neat rows. The few cars that remain uncovered seem to, more or less, share very similar features: long, sleek bodies, large tailfins, excess chrome, bright paint jobs, and a General Motors logo on the grill. Even if you have no background in automobiles, you recognize these cars for what they are: 50's and 60's model Cadillacs. Nearly everyone who lives in the City in the Sea knows the look of a Cadillac, and the man responsible for this recognition is standing right in front of you.
From under the hood of a cherry red Caddy, Jack Tenrec peers out and smiles assuringly my while holding up a finger, asking that you wait till he finishes his current task. The guards leave, and you watch as the Old Blood Mechanic labors lovingly over the car. It’s clear that he enjoys what he’s doing. Despite being sweaty and dirty, Tenrec seems happy and comfortable; a man very much in his element. As leader of the local Old Bloods, Jack Tenrec is a well-respected figure in the City in the Sea. His predilection for restoring and driving classic cars, particularly Cadillacs, is almost as famous as his legendary exploits in defense of the Machinatio Vitae. He has many friends and quite a few enemies, as well.
With a dash of finality, Jack stands up and closes the hood of the car. He grabs a rag and begins wiping his hands, though this does little good; his fingers are thoroughly blackened from grease and oil. Tall and physically strapping, the Old Blood Mechanic cuts a ruggedly good looking figure. Given his scars, solid five o’clock shadow, and tousled brown hair, some might call him "action hero handsome." Along the inside of his right forearm is a tattoo: a black cog and wrench head encompassing a leaf.
[ +- ] Spoiler
To the newcomers, he says, "Welcome to the compound. Glad you could make it. I’m Jack." Then he offers his hand.
In response to Drill, Jack slaps him in the back and says with a smile, "Good to see you again, Drillbit."
