#rivervale_lodge

Frank is cleaning his beloved truck, winter proofing it ...

Well, winter proofing maintenence; it cops a lot of road salt and other stuff.

when the CB crackles on 'Breaker Breaker, this is Dutch.. my rig's about to go from beauty to paperweight, I'm near Rivervale town in the Big Berg-End.... anyone willing to give a hand and maybe a ride. I'm hoping I have to shoot this poor beast and put her out of it's misery'

Frank swings himself into the cab and picks up the mic. "10-4, Dutch, this is Rigger. I can be 10-51 to your 10-20. Come back.

'Copy that, Rigger, and much obliged. I'm at Mile marker...' And he gives it, 'Bless you and your descendants to the 7th Generation and if you don't have any I know some friendly ladies who might help you get a start' A chuckle

"Copy that 10-20. ETA...." he gives it, and gets the Rig rolling.

He sees the truck before he sees Dutch. Oh that's an old one all right, while tended religiously as best it can be, it's seen better days and whatever is wrong with it, the smoke from what is likely its engine does not bode well... looks like more than standard oil burn. Dutch seems to be a short fellow but muscular and about Frank's age give or take. As Frank drives closer, he can tell Dutch is a Clurichaun, right down to his green overalls.

Frank hits the hazard lights, slowing to pull over, and sets the brakes. He pops the door open and steps out. His tire tapper is in the cab, and he leaves it there. For now. He lets the Clurichaun see him, open handed, before he approaches; his House's curse makes these encounters challenging sometimes.

The Clurichaun seems to sense it "Well, beggars and choosers. Much obliged"

"I'm Dutch, You must be Rigger" He offers a hand

Frank shakes it carefully. "I am." he looks at the smoking mess "Looks bad."

"Sure as hell does" The man admits with a frown

"Who are you working for?"

"I'm independent, less banality that way, but the supplies inside are suppose to go to a furniture warehouse"

Frank scratches his beard. "Call the warehouse, see if they can send someone?"

"Well, they want to transfer the goods to anothre truck if they can find it. So I'm out of cash"

"Mm. Some, maybe. Still get paid for what you did do. Probably not enough, though. You think it's worth getting a tow to a repair place?"

A look over "You know of one?" Dutch asks "Honest I mean? It's not so much money as the pride... I hate not getting things done"

"Tow? Yes. Repair?" more dubious "How much are you willing to spend?"

He names a fair price, minus 10%

Frank nods. "I might know a guy. Or a couple of guys."

Dutch grins "I get the feeling I'm going to owe you a drink or three, Rigger. Set me up?"

"Mmm." He takes out his tiny cell phone and makes a few calls.

It ttakes a bit, but soon it's all set up. Dutch does ask, "is there a place a man could put his feet up, say near a fire?"

Frank nods. "Near enough." the damaged rig has been towed away to a shop Frank knows "Hop in my cab, I'll take you there. Got a bag?"

"I do" he hauls it up. Sizable enough to carry the essentials

Frank helps the little guy in as needed, and then they're off to Rivervale.

Dutch talks as they go "Can't say how glad I am to find a nother kithain...."

"You ok? Are you in danger?"

"I'm fine... just don't need any more chills in my bones on this trip. Ran into an inspector colder than a rainy winter in Michagan"

"Mm." Frank nods; he's met that type. "Whereabouts?"

"Turnpike..." a grunt

Another grunt; no surprise.

"Yeah, I wasn't suprised either. Just watch out for a guy with 'Andrews' on his badge"

"I will." Frank says; it doesn't take long to get back to the Lodge.

They get there, and he looks at it and smiles "Lot of head room eh?"

Oak greets them with a woof

"Oak, this is Dutch. Dutch, this is Oak."

"Big House, Big Dog." he offers a hand for the dog to sniff. Oak decides he's okay

Frank relaxes minutely. "Let's go inside. Need a place to stay while you're waiting for your truck?"

"I think so, would help take the nip off as well." He says "IF you need work done, I'm not afraid of physical labor while I'm here" He looks around "Wow, that hand carved?"

Frank nods. "Our leader did it. We call her Chiefte....Chief. Have you spent time in a troll lodge?"

"First time" He admits "Normally it's a noble hold or maybe a small flamed motley. Chief eh? I'll try to adrdress her as such if I see her. "

"Chief." he confirms. "Our Hearth is in charge of the Lodge in terms of caring for our needs. Her name is Kerri; you'll probably speak with her or one of her aids. Gerd, Sally Mae. Sally Mae is Kinain."

"Noted, sounds at least as sensible as the sidhe set up. Though I did end up on a long haul where I visited a noble court run by a troll..a Countess no less. Never met her. Just got a bed for the night"

A head tilt. "Not.... not down in the southwest?"

"About as Southwest you can get without running your rig into the pacifc" He grins "Tijuana. Not a safe city, my friend, but not dull either"

The huge troll nods slowly. "Not safe, no. But not dull."

((Boggan Sense might suggest there's something else there, but....??))

(Too bad for him he's a Clurichaun)