Almost completely under the control of the Yakuza and the Mafia, the northernmost region of Puyallup is relatively clean and safe -as long as protection money is paid- and home to many middle-class citizens. The minivan drives straight through the center of the small city, nicely obeying all traffic rules and only making a few small detours intended to find out if someone's following.
As the elf had predicted, the ride comes to an end on the south side of the area on the parking lot of a warehouse which, judging from the vehicles parked outside and the bricks and pipes stored on several pallets outside the building, stores construction materials.
Your chauffeur sticks his left arm out the window of the van, sticks his thumb up and waits. It only takes a few seconds before you can hear the clatter of metal shutters opening and the loud roar of a heavy engine starting. Bright light coming from massive headlights flood the minivan while the other vehicle approaches. Only at the last moment does it swerve left and a large military flatbed truck pulls up alongside you. It's one of those old timer trucks, built in a time when things were built to last instead of being built by the lowest bidder. There's no cover over the back, revealing two long benches on opposite sides of the truck, enough room on each of them for at least six people.
The truck has been painted black with different shades of green randomly sprayed all over it. The well-known anarchy-'A' logo of the Ancients proudly adorns its hood and doors. Seven gangers, all dressed in blacks and greens and all visibly armed, sit on the back of the truck. All of them are looking at your comparatively small minivan, several of them with their index finger almost on the trigger of their guns. The passenger's window opens and a seemingly annoyed female elf with short, spiked black hair addresses your driver with a sneer.
"Your carriage awaits, your majesties."Your driver ignores the taunt, turns his head around towards you and calmly states
"Well then, let's get to it. You get in the back, I'll be in the driver's cabin."He seems to hesitate for a moment, clears his throat and says a bit quieter
"Remember well where we are and who we're dealing with. We're guests here only because they allow it and their officers told them so... But not all of them are very happy with this arrangement and their discipline has its limits." His eyes seem to rest on Rat a bit longer than the on rest of you before he opens his door, gets out and walks towards the truck.
Man, this would've been easier to write if any of you had ever bothered to ask the name of your chaperon :p
You'd need to have grown up inside a vault not to recognize the Ancients, so no knowledge rolls needed to recognize them. More info might be gained with a roll.
