Fenrir's Fangs

  "It's Ryan, Open the door." Ryan yelled down at the entrance.  After a few minutes of no answer he figured that everyone was either up getting treated or dead.
"Let me the **** in, Sean."
"Sir, we havn't seen Sean since the attack." Came the voice from behind the door as it creaked open, a Cliath standing there.
"Fine, you are our new doorman.  Have fun."

Walking in the base Ryan put down his loot bag in the corner by the cliath.  "Touch it and you lose a hand, protect it and you may get a treat." he said to the recruit, then grabbing a Body Pillow case from his loot bag he walked out side.  After half and hour of picking everything left from the battle, he walked back up to the door. "Open it."
"Yes Sir!" came the reply from inside the base, the cliath eagerly awaiting his return.  Looking at his bag it seemed untouched, and after a quick equipment check he was sure it had not been tampered with.  "What kind of gun do you use?"
"Colt .45, Single Action Revolver."
Reaching down into the bag he pulled out a full box of Fourty Five rounds and tossed it to the cliath.  After that he worked his way up to the bar, now hauling roughly four hundred pounds of equipment, maybe more.

  After a 15 minute walk to the bar he opened the door, grabbed some food, and sat down at his table.  Waiting for his friends to come up so he could brag about his loot, he ate his food and took a sip of his whiskey in the near empty bar.