Category Archives: Freeway Warrior: Highway Holocaust

Apparently our adventurous spirit reigns supreme in post-Apocalyptic Texas, as we've decided to go ahead and mosey (you're required by law to mosey instead of walk in Texas, despite the heretic "Walker", Texas Ranger) into Denton to see what's behind the plume of exhaust we spied.

Zoicks! I guess it's no good having binoculars if you don't believe your lying eyes. We have a massive driving skill of ... three. Combined with another three from the Random Roll, that leads us to:

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In our last episode, our post-Apocalyptic road warrior took shelter behind his massive V-8 (the car, not the drink, because that would not be very effective, now would it?) and was deciding whether to leap behind the wheel or dash into the store to join Long Jake and his damsel in distress. I don't know yet whether Long Jake is in a dress, though that would be a nice bit of symmetry.

Focus, people! We chose to run for our friends in the store, resulting in:

I actually use a printed-out and cut-to-size Random Number Chart from the rule book for this. I'm kickin' it old school. Thus I closed my eyes, twirled the chart, plunged my pen down and got ... an 8! A bona-fide non-sucky result. Added to our massive Stealth score of 2, that gives us a total of 10. Apparently we were able to hold the jingle bells on our harness silent for a few critical seconds. Meaning:

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When last we left our post-Apocalyptic road warrior (no relation), we were deciding whether to get the heck out of Dodge in our Dodge or to eat dirt and stick it out. Wouldn't you know it, our bravery overcame our survival instincts and we dove for cover:

In the drugstore! I hope one of our choices is to ask him to pick us up some candy bars.

Now, we have a choice here, but I figured from the responses last time that you all were game to be aggressive in an attempt to rescue our cohorts, so I made a command call and decided that if we weren't meant to fire this rifle, it wouldn't be clutched in our cold, dead hands. Or something.

Hey now, according to that illustration we should have two rifles! I guess we'll just have to muddle through with our singleton, though. Pulling out the handy-dandy random number chart, I close my eyes, dart my pen down, and get ... a five. Adding that to our prodigious Shooting score of five, we are at a comfortable ten. Meaning:

WE RULE! One shot, POW, right through the heart. Take THAT, Mel Gibson! And I'm pretty sure we did it without a Samson-like power-mullet.

Once again we're left with a directional dilemma. Do we try to join our compatriots in the store and join forces, or do we hop behind the wheel of our Hot Rod Ford and run the bastards down? I'm interpreting that second choice as not being "run away" but rather "get to a better fighting location, and/or run some leather-clad punks over." Being a CYOA, however, it could just as easily result in our driving over a cliff to our fiery death.

So what'll it be, intrepid survivors?

Last week we spent some time deciding what skills and gear our "Freeway Warrior" would sport. We decided to put two points into Shooting, one point into Perception, and one point into Fieldcraft. Being on the wimpy side of the Endurance scale, apparently we thought that it would be better to stay far away from danger by toting a rifle, being smart enough to see trouble coming before it gets close, and wilderness savvy enough to hide if it comes down to it.

To that end we settled on a compass so we know which way to run, binoculars so we can see our enemies at even longer distances, three square meals (running burns calories, folks!), and a geiger counter. Here's how our character sheet looks:

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I wanted to try something in a different genre from our Lone Wolf adventures, so I decided we'd go for a post-apocalyptic Road Warrior scenario!

You are Cal Phoenix, the Freeway Warrior, champion and protector of Dallas Colony One. A murderous gang of HAVOC clansmen, led by the psychotic Mad Dog Michigan, are bent on destroying your fragile colony as it crosses the wastelands of Texas on the first stage of a life-or-death exodus to the California coast. These bike-riding clansmen are a formidable enemy: armed, cunning, and extremely dangerous, capable of launching a lightning raid at any time, day or night. You will need all your wits about you if you are to defend your people and reach your destination intact!

Ironically, my wife's last name is Phenix, which is darn close. I'm going to start calling her Freeway Warrior, I think. And we come from Texas! It's fate, I tell you.

This adventure comes to us courtesy of the awesome folks at Project Aon. The original material is copyright © 1988 Joe Dever (text) and copyright © 1988 Melvyn Grant (illustrations).

Before we can officially get started, we have some "bidness" (that's how we say "business" in Texas, which I'm pretty sure not even the Apocalypse can change) to resolve. I went ahead and rolled our combat skill, getting an AWESOME two (out of ten), and an even more awesome ZERO out of ten for our Endurance. So, go me. But we have to decide what skills we wish to pursue, so I put together a poll. Vote for your top four and then vote for how you want the points to be allocated:

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