Garm stood in the middle of the Oberland scrap maze, his green hands gripping a rusted metal beam. Twisted cars and broken machines surrounded him on all sides. He wanted to turn this salvage yard into something more—a trading post that would make people fear and respect his name. The work would be hard, but the yard was his now. He dropped the beam and walked to a pile of torn metal sheets. Travelers needed to know this place was open for business. Garm picked through the scrap until he found a large, dented piece that would work. He dragged it to his workbench and grabbed a welding torch. The flame hissed to life. He cut and shaped the metal, then used a steel punch to hammer out letters. The words "Good Brethren Trading Post" emerged from the battered surface. He held up the finished sign and studied it. The metal was rough and weathered, but that fit perfectly. This sign would tell everyone who passed by that Garm's trading post was real. Garm carried the sign across the yard and set it down near the entrance. He looked back at the salvage yard stretching behind him. Rusted metal lay scattered everywhere. Broken car parts jutted from piles of scrap. A few radioactive puddles glowed faintly between the wreckage. The place looked dangerous and unwelcoming. But that was good. People needed to know this wasn't some friendly shop. This was where serious traders came to do business. Garm wiped his green hands on his pants and nodded. The salvage yard was just the start. Soon it would be a place that everyone in the Oberland ruins knew about and respected. But he needed more than a sign. Traders wanted goods they could carry and use. Bulky scrap took up too much space and wasn't worth much. Garm walked to another section of the yard and started gathering parts. He found gears, springs, and sheets of metal. He welded them together into a crude frame. He added a press made from car parts and wrapped barbed wire around the edges for grip. The machine looked rough but solid. Garm fed a handful of scrap into the top. The press squeezed down with a loud crunch. Out came a compressed block of metal, small enough to fit in a bag. He built a scrap recycler that would turn his junk into something valuable. Now he had a way to make real profit. The Good Brethren Trading Post was ready for its first customers.