The final reconnaissance operation to adjacent hexes sees Red, Leks, Magda, Minka, and Zenobia loading up the UAZ-469 and traveling south.

The team picks up the mostly-paved road heading south out of Ponikla. It leads out to Highway 12, where they encounter the remains of a traffic jam. It looks like someone decided to clear the road with a bulldozer. As would be expected on a major route like this, most of the wrecks are thoroughly stripped, but Leks does find a few usable spare parts on the carcass of a Polski Fiat subcompact.
Feeling a bit exposed on the crumbling blacktop, they cross the highway and continue south. The terrain out here is more of the same: undeveloped grassland and abandoned farms dotted with occasional stands of trees. They’ve been traveling for a couple of hours when they sight an immense industrial building to their west – and a tiny thread of smoke rising from its vicinity. This bears closer examination.
As they move in, the structure resolves into the centerpiece of a complex. It’s a railyard, a maintenance and repair facility for Polskie Koleje Państwowe – PKP or Polish State Railways. It’s taken bombing or artillery damage, with several buildings collapsed and the main depot’s roof in tatters, but enough is intact to give them hope of salvage.
Beyond the depot lies a small village, likely former housing for the PKP workers. Zenobia recalls this place from childhood visits. One of her relatives worked for PKP and lived here.
The team parks the UAZ-469 for a quick getaway and moves in. The smoke trail has vanished, but in the center of the yard are a pair of railcars that don’t look like the others. They’re a passenger coach and a baggage car, concealed from casual view but vividly spraypainted. Lawn furniture and other signs of habitation are scattered around and the smell of fresh baking wafts on the breeze.

Magda and Minka enter while the rest of the team keeps watch. There’s a brief jumpscare from a terrified cat [tabletop is not great for jumpscares] but the cars are otherwise unoccupied. The passenger car appears to be the living quarters for a half-dozen or so people. The baggage car contains a small crew lounge, which is still in use as a kitchen and communal living area. It’s also full of smoke, the result of someone pulling the damper on the small coal stove without quenching the fire. A pan of small cakes is still cooling on the work surface along with other evidence of interrupted food prep.
It seems that whoever lives here saw the PCs coming and hightailed it. A search around the area doesn’t show anyone except the cat, who is now under another railcar and occasionally growling at Leks. The PCs are still very interested in whoever’s living here, because the clothing sizes suggest kids, but they have other things to do, so they turn their attention to the rest of the railyard.
The one intact maintenance facility is dark, its roof intact and its windows stained with decades of soot and grease. It takes a moment for the PCs’ eyes to adjust enough to make sense of the massive diesel locomotive parked here, opened up for maintenance with its 18-ton Engine of Damocles hanging from the overhead crane. A clipboard full of paperwork indicates that it was pulled in for an overhaul only a few days before the first battlefield nukes flew in September of ’97. The building has been stripped of most portable items, but in a gloomy back corner, the team uncoveres an industrial lathe and drill press. This may be the most excited anyone has seen Zenobia… and she grows even more effervescent when she finds that one of the locomotive’s traction motors has been pulled for rewiring and is mostly-disassembled on a work stand.
Marking this for definite future looting, the team continues moving through the railyard. Many of the railcars here are derailed or damaged, but their census identifies a total of eight passenger coaches, two baggage cars, and a single lounge/bar car that still seem usable (not counting the two inhabited cars).
A couple of missions ago, Leks developed a sudden passion for philately after unearthing someone’s stamp collection. He nudges the team in the direction of the complex’s office and is rewarded with several uncut sheets of Poczta Polska stamps commemorating the evolution of PKP’s locomotive fleet.

In a maintenance closet, Minka finds a baseball bat, a few baseballs, and a number of gloves – clear evidence of someone’s capitalist imperialist cultural contamination, especially when combined with the small still that appears to have been in use for PKP staff homebrew purposes. Additional exploration turns up a still-charged fire extinguisher and a four-gas meter (set up for oxygen, carbon monoxide, methane, and hydrogen sulfide monitoring). In the supervisor’s office, Zenobia uncovers a wall safe, which she makes short work of. This contains the real prize: two vacuum-sealed bags of coffee beans. The small gold bars are an afterthought, and the stacks of paper currency don’t even rate attention except as possible wallpaper.
Zenobia leads the team into the village, heading for her relatives’ home. It looks abandoned, as does everything in the village. She finds the spare key where she remembers it being and lets herself in.
Inside, there are signs of a hasty but orderly evacuation. Luggage, clothing, and valuables are missing. Something else is missing, too. In the room where Zenobia remembers a library crammed with literature and railroad technical manuals, there’s instead a badly-vandalized formal dining room. No books. Zenobia does not take this well [2 stress] and dashes outside.
The team clears the house, recovering a small amount of cleaning chemicals and personal hygiene items. In the kitchen, Magda finds a collection of handwritten recipe cards in an ancient tin file box. Checking several other houses reveals similar conditions: people gone, light looting, and no printed materials. No maps (there wasn’t one in the railyard office either), no books, just a few fragmentary notes or bills or out-of-context documents that provide no useful information.
The team heads back to the railyard, determined to find the suspected kids. They catch a lucky break when Magda sights the glint of sun on glass coming from a derailed baggage car on the south end of the yard. Looking closer, the team can see it’s been sketchily fortified.
Minka elects herself as the negotiator and moves in cautiously. She keeps her cool when a warning shot from a slingshot whizzes past her head, and is eventually able to open dialogue with a spokesurchin. Over food and many reassurances, a story emerges from the kid, whose name is Malvina.
The Boxcar Children are six local teenagers, four girls and two boys. They returned from a school trip to find the village empty and their families gone. The story goes nonspecific here, but they decided to stay in the village until looters and slavers started coming through, at which point they relocated to the more hidden and defensible railyard. (All of the team bristles at the mention of slavers and the implications therein.) They’ve been surviving on scrounged canned goods, foraged food from the wilderness, and unwary small game.
To Red’s eye, they’re all suffering from the typical array of apocalyptic vitamin deficiencies and poor hygiene. More critically, one of them has an unspecified respiratory ailment (not asthma, that’s all Red can tell right now) and another, Jacob, has a bad eye injury with a spreading infection that’s already at a life-threatening level.
Through diplomacy, food, Red’s medical credentials, and diplomacy, the team is able to convince Jacob to return to Ponikla for surgery. Malvina agrees/insists on accompanying him. The other four kids aren’t quite ready to leave yet, but they’re willing to negotiate with the team for trade and salvage rights.
This session packed quite a bit of exploration and plot into four hours. The entire situation with the kids was pure improv. All I had in my notes was evidence of habitation but the players immediately latched onto that and I didn’t want to give them nothing for the amount of effort they were putting into the project.
Also, I continue to be highly entertained by the amount of work my players are putting into homesteading. They’re heavily invested in upgrading Ponikla.









