Fallout: Louisiana Blues | IC | Closed and Dead |

[Kazarogkai]

In between the settlements of Mount-Lebanon and Castor, Bienville Parish, Louisiana
The Bundle of Knives
Warlord Cornelius White

Neutral ground

That was what we were allegedly standing in for the soon to come negotiations over what could possibly become a ceasefire. It was upon a barren hill that was surrounded as usual in this land trees, miles upon miles of trees. It made me feel rather vulnerable honestly, but at least I had a sorta back up plan in case things went sour... The Obviously the Montou would also have emulated that practice but still I am sure my militants will have little difficulty with such things. I like the Montou bought a rather specific number of bodyguards to accompany me openly, and the Montou chiefs who came followed suit with that custom. The Montou men in question were tall and strong with powerful arms carrying their characteristic spear, wooden-shield, and machete combo while my own though not as tall were still decently well built from their hard lives and they carried shotguns and as usual 2 knives tucked in their waists for when things got a little messy. That should honestly not be surprising considering are name puts it out their. The hill top was rather flattish and level like a small tabletop mountain and had a few rocks about waist high scattered about that would make adequate cover. We all stood a distance away, about 10 feet, exchanging words over terms and the like of this possible ceasefire. The Negotiations had occurred under duress to a degree with me sending a small force over to the Montou settlement of Bienville to give the impression that I had suffered very little in the previous conflict and the preceding skirmishes that had taken place afterwards unlike the Montou. To further press it I sent in a few of my experimental weapons that I had been developing known as "Fist throwers" named for the fist sized projectile they threw. They were not much different than other cannons except they rather than resting on a wheeled carriage instead used a Tripod which made them far more mobile and better suited to the local terrain. I got the idea mind you from an old ottoman weapon known as an "Abus gun" that I read about in a book thinking it would be useful. Though not perfect, they were pretty short ranged, they got the job done and gave me the desired push I needed to get the Montou onto the Negotiating table. It was going to be a long day but hopefully it would be worth it.

Time goes on

Bittersweet but still worth the cost, I had bought about the peace I needed. The Montou chiefs in exchange for a Ceasefire were given a few farm animals in order to finally seal it which was not something I cared to do but had to in order to get rid of one of their demands in which they would be allowed to get the bodies of the dead from the Battle ground site, something I really didn't want to do for it would risk having the Montou try to mount a sneak attack against me under the guise of peace. This would be a good respite for my troops and allow them a little rest, plus it would allow me to rebuild my forces to something a little more formidable. I still had plans to take on Gibsland but that would have to wait for I needed an army before I could do that. Gibsland unlike Arcadia was located on much shallower ground but had a larger population allowing it to bring more troops unto the field of battle. I knew soon enough though I would be able to rebuild my army and have a force that would crush my opposition. Heck my staff had already gained me a few new recruits from the south, and during that time I had been able to set up my boot-camp and even had drummed out a few new young recruits from the local population who were willing to join my forces as militants. In the end it was all just a waiting game.

[Ontorisa]

Rocky

Monet didn't need to tell him twice to stick to the road, pavement was too dense for those things to dig through and sticking to the road at least kept him from getting attacked underneath. Radscorpions were a common phenomena in these kind of dry places and strangely Rocky felt vindicated knowing his gut feeling was right on once again, "Close up with your backs too the wagon! Face forward and stick to the pavement, get lead flying in every direction!"

Rocky shouted as loud as he could over the din and some people responded but others continued to panic and flee or shoot wildly. He pulled the trigger a few times and put a couple of rounds into one of the scorpions that fixated on him - one of the shots was deflected by the thick carapace of the creature but the other two struck at a better angle and penetrated causing the massive mutated arachnid to fall back for at least now from the pain. He wheeled on another and fired at it's 'face' where the natural armor was thinnest and scored a killing blow but around that time one of the MUT guards was grabbed by one almost the size of a car and drug toward the maw, it stung him a couple of times for good measure then retreated from the fight to go feed with a couple of smaller ones the size of dogs hoping to steal from it. The bigger one seemed to take offense to this and dropped its prize to attack, its massive stinger easily pierced the hide of one of the others while its compatriot skittered away; King Kong seemed happy with the result and grabbed its prize to walk away and the opportunistic dog sized scorpion decided it was best to just suck the guts from its dead comrade. Such was the nature of scorpions and with each one that would go down or be wounded and weakened there was at least one other looking to capitalize on the bad fortune of their hivemates so at least as many as were killed would be lost in a feeding frenzy and scorpions took hours to devour the insides of their meals.

A brahmin sized scorpion rushed the wagon and Bryan the caravan master panicked and reached for a stick of dynamite...

Black Iron Passage, Northern Louisiana

Monet turned around to see Zach scramble backwards, firing his 10mm pistol behind him as he staggered onto the pavement. Meanwhile, Brian, handing his shotgun to Rachel to fire, began tossing dynamite into the caves, in hopes of sealing them off. Automatic fire broke out as a few guards began closing the distance with the scorpions, using their sub-machine guns to engage them.

"Fuck! Rocky! We gotta move man!" Monet shouted as he shot a scorpion that was dragging one of the travellers into the cave.

The .308 Winchester round entered the scorpion's pincer as its spiked tail came down on the traveller. Two things happened at once, the traveller basically jolted and died right there as the spike entered then exited her chest, leaving a large stream of blood flowing upwards while the pincer came flying off. The scorpion screeched and left the dead traveller there as a smaller scorpion came by to take the body. Monet fired again and took off the scorpion's face [figuratively] as the round entered and sent the scorpion's body flying backwards a couple of feet into a crumpled pile.

"Holy shit!" Zach shouted as he swung his varmint rifle and fired at an advancing scorpion.

Another explosion and a call from one of the brahmin as Monet took the time to look at it, seeing one of the guards being eaten alive there while the brahmin was subjected to three small scorpions tearing at it. Brian had just thrown his last stick of dynamite before pulling out his sidearm and firing. Meanwhile, Rachel appeared to know how to fight, firing the shotgun dead centre into the scorpion that had been rushing the wagon. The scorpion appeared to hiss at the 12 gauge round hitting hit point blank before Rachel fired again and sent the scorpion retreating back into the caves.

"Brian!" Monet shouted to the caravan master as another brahmin was taken down. "We gotta move man! We're going to get murdered out here!"

Brian appeared to shout something back, but Monet couldn't understand him. However, Rachel apparently got the memo and reloaded her shotgun before jumping from the wagon and began running to Monet. She slid on the pavement and fired again, missing a scorpion that pounced on another traveller.

"We're moving, I think I know a way." Monet nodded back at the caravan. "Should have picked a different caravan Rocky."

Monet began to jog up the road, as the screams and gunfire of the caravan continued, Zach and Rachel following Monet out of pure fear.

[Elerian]

~Providence~

It was a seedier part of town, the grubby hand of crime was noticeable on every street corner, every building, and every man. She swayed as she walked down the center of the long cracked street. Her hips rolling in a seductive manner, not unlike a common whore, yet with far more elegance which was a concept unknown to virtually everyone she passed. It was late, the sun had long set and drunken men, thugs, and prostitutes lined the dimly lit streets. More than once a men yelled cat calls, but she walked on as if the world beyond what was right in front of her didn’t exist. At the end of the street she came to a dead end, to each side there were only narrow alleyways, so obviously laden with traps.

The woman stopped and with the grin of a viper walked towards the alley to her right. As she neared she spotted some movement amongst the refuse, evidently someone waiting for her. Amateurs. She kept on walking, it should have been a tell-tale sign that the thugs should run, but the poor fucks didn’t know what was coming.

Two thugs jumped from behind massive waste bins, piled high with garbage. They were dressed in rags, armed with pipes. Amateurs indeed. They had wide grins adorning their faces as they jumped out with glee, ready to take more than just her caps. But when they finally saw her in full, the joy was swept away like the tide. Several moments later their screams resounded through the slums, soon to be cut short. The Plugger had struck again.

~Alexander the Reborn~

Alexander walked amongst the newly taken slaves. This victory meant there were only two tribes remaining in the area, but even those had likely already fled. Hellenia no longer had any rivals in its immediate vicinity, but beyond that there were plenty. At that moment Alexander remembered a passage from a book his parents read to him as a child. “By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion. Remember, O Lord, the children of Edom in the day of Jerusalem; who said, Rase it, rase it, even to the foundation. O daughter of Babylon, who art to be destroyed; happy shall he be, that rewardeth thee as thou hast served us. Happy shall he be, that taketh and dasheth thy little ones against the stones.”

Alexander, after remembering the passage was filled with a renewed zeal. He had seen firsthand the destruction the heathens had wrought on his people before he took command. He vividly remembered his people hiding away waiting for what was to come. Alexander would never let that happen again, not so long as he lived. “Kill them all. We will leave a testament to any who would cross us in the future, they have wrought their own damnation! Raze their foundation! Leave no trace of their existence."

[Kazarogkai]

Arcadia, Bienville Parish, Louisiana
The Bundle of Knives
Warlord Cornelius White

I watched the new recruits training in the new boot camp which was situated on the outskirts of Arcadia from a rather nice of mine balcony. I was taking a bream from my day which I had spent drinking tea and filling reports feeling like a bureaucrat all the time. Despite my rather large staff who worked for me I still personally had to do quite a bit of paperwork ranging from filing through the various petitions from the populace all the way to tax returns and all manner of statesman like bull. Such was life but I couldn't help but miss the what seemed like so far off days before the ceasefire came into effect a few months ago. This process of rebuilding was rather necessary but overall still something I really didn't care for all that much, but the patient little bastard within me ever told me to remain cool and collected and overall deal with it. I needed the strong army that I had come to this land with so long ago, with it I could conquer the damn world. Sadly I had lost it and with me getting embroiled in a rather brutal tribal war this prevented me from gaining back that force again anytime soon. I needed to rebuild my army, I knew that, but that still doesn't ease the bubbling ambition within me that wishes to break out.

A deputy of one member of my staff by the name of Jean came to my door and called me fourth from my thoughts for I was needed to handle some type of dispute. I was told the prosecuting partiy when initially asked had been offered to have a judge settle it but had refused demanding me personally to judge so as such that was the reason for why I was needed. Typically when it came down to matters like this I would have a tribune composed of some of my officers, and as of recently, respected elders from among the civilian population to handle both criminal matters and private disputes. This had been generally accepted by the local population for judicial purposes but occasionally the population would call upon my judgement on whatever matter they saw fit probably in part as an extension of the local tradition of bigmen that had pervaded the society up till now. When I reached down stairs I found a grizzled old farmer tall and stout with a rather young girl who was rather clearly heavy with child. His name was Edward and her name was Dolly. Edward stated his claim pointing at Dolly at the same time saying that a serving boy who I had been previously hired by one of troops by the Name of John had violated his daughter and as such Edward was demanding Wergild as compensation. Problem was John had a while ago ran off so as such he was not there to pay it which created an issue. The rather high and mighty Edwards was making a rather large fuss so I ask him to calm down and sat upon a chair and thank long and hard about it. I decided upon it soon enough and gave my verdict:

First I acknowledged the lack of presence of the defense, and pointed out the fact that what Dolly stated was overall hearsay. Secondly despite both of these responsibility needed to be taken, in the name of the child's welfare, and as such I would take it upon myself. I being liege to the soldier who had hired John was ultimately responsible for my soldiers actions and whose duty it was to maintain discipline among my forces. Finally as such I would pay the general Wergild to the Victim.

This was met with general approval from the Parties at hand as just and we were able to agree upon soon after the amount needed to be paid. Both Edward and his daughter Dolly gave their respects and went back to their home and as such the trial was over. I walked back to my office with little word dismissing jean and returning back to work as usual. I had been called upon as of recently a lot to solve various disputes ranging from settling who a calf belonged to between 2 farmers, to how best to punish a thief. This had only become more common not less as time went on for whatever reason. Never the less I took it all in stride as just another aspect of being a warlord along with the paperwork and the rather stale and constant waiting.

[SaintB]

Black Iron Passage, Northern Louisiana

Monet turned around to see Zach scramble backwards, firing his 10mm pistol behind him as he staggered onto the pavement. Meanwhile, Brian, handing his shotgun to Rachel to fire, began tossing dynamite into the caves, in hopes of sealing them off. Automatic fire broke out as a few guards began closing the distance with the scorpions, using their sub-machine guns to engage them.

"Fuck! Rocky! We gotta move man!" Monet shouted as he shot a scorpion that was dragging one of the travellers into the cave.

The .308 Winchester round entered the scorpion's pincer as its spiked tail came down on the traveller. Two things happened at once, the traveller basically jolted and died right there as the spike entered then exited her chest, leaving a large stream of blood flowing upwards while the pincer came flying off. The scorpion screeched and left the dead traveller there as a smaller scorpion came by to take the body. Monet fired again and took off the scorpion's face [figuratively] as the round entered and sent the scorpion's body flying backwards a couple of feet into a crumpled pile.

"Holy shit!" Zach shouted as he swung his varmint rifle and fired at an advancing scorpion.

Another explosion and a call from one of the brahmin as Monet took the time to look at it, seeing one of the guards being eaten alive there while the brahmin was subjected to three small scorpions tearing at it. Brian had just thrown his last stick of dynamite before pulling out his sidearm and firing. Meanwhile, Rachel appeared to know how to fight, firing the shotgun dead centre into the scorpion that had been rushing the wagon. The scorpion appeared to hiss at the 12 gauge round hitting hit point blank before Rachel fired again and sent the scorpion retreating back into the caves.

"Brian!" Monet shouted to the caravan master as another brahmin was taken down. "We gotta move man! We're going to get murdered out here!"

Brian appeared to shout something back, but Monet couldn't understand him. However, Rachel apparently got the memo and reloaded her shotgun before jumping from the wagon and began running to Monet. She slid on the pavement and fired again, missing a scorpion that pounced on another traveller.

"We're moving, I think I know a way." Monet nodded back at the caravan. "Should have picked a different caravan Rocky."

Monet began to jog up the road, as the screams and gunfire of the caravan continued, Zach and Rachel following Monet out of pure fear.

Rocky, The Passage

After firing the carbine dry rocky let it drop and made a bee-line for the wagon, "Cover me!" he shouted to the people who had reached relative safety as he ran.

He spotted Brutus's machete and scooped it off the ground for whatever modicum of protection it could provide him and almost immediatly found a use for it - one of the MUT traders Samuel (who insisted that his name be pronounced Sam-you-well) was in trouble, the action on his shotgun jammed and he couldn't get it open to reload as a dog sized scorpion rushed at him intent on getting him as a meal. Samuel tried to use the stock of his weapon as a club to bludgeon the monster and keep it off of him but he had sawed the weapon off and it was too short to be effective against the scorpion in close quarters, it nailed him in the thigh with its tail and grasped his left arm with one of its pincers but Rocky was there in time to interfere and used the machete to cut the barb off of its tail and then hack into the 'wrist' of its pincer causing the limb to be useless and forcing the scorpion to retreat. He had to admit to himself that for being nothing more than a broken off lawnmower blade with wire and tape wrapped around for a handle it made a decent enough weapon in a pinch.

He grabbed Samuel and helped the man limp to the the wagon before he passed out from blood loss and handed him off to Zach and Rachel who pulled him into the back. Rocky followed suit, standing on the small metal lip that was on the back of the wagon grasping the canvas cover with one hand and knocking, "Get moving! Everyone we can get is already on board!"

The third brahmin that had been tied to the back of the wagon to rest had been badly mauled by scorpion attacks and wasn't going to make it and would only slow them down so he cut the rope that tied it to the wagon which gouged the wood and crakced the machete blade so he tossed it it away and pulled out his pistol to fire at anything nasty that came too close.

Now that he had time to breathe Rocky took a look at the carnage of the Scorpion attack and things were not at all good. Brian's dynamite had partially collapsed the tunnel the scorpions had come out of but only the biggest brahmin sized and larger ones would be blocked from it which meant they would be a menace to travellers in the passage for who knows how long. Virtually all of the other travellers and guards were either dead or missing (meaning probably dead) and Samuel was badly wounded. Good news for him was that if Zach and Rachel could get the bleeding to stop Samuel would probably be ok as long as he kept his wound clean. The scorpion toxin would kill the bacteria in his wound and since it was a through and through hit he didn't catch a lethal dose of toxin but he would definitly be in severe pain tonight as the toxin he did get threw his nervous system into overdrive.

Paradoxically the larger scorpion stings were less potent than the smaller ones, a dog sized scorpion would be deadly if you were allergic or had a weak constitution but the babies were the ones what would kill with their sting alone and the big guys, the titans, their venom was so weak that people used it as a seasoning for food! It made your mouth go completly numb for a few seconds before hurting like you had just swallowed a bushel of jalepenos, not that Rocky had tried it himself mind you since he didn't consider pain a flavor so it was all hearsay for him. Rocky snapped out of his thoughts as he heard Samuel reach consciousness for a moment and and cry out in pain as Zach held him down and Rachel made a hack job of stitching his leg. Yeah Samuel would live but he'd be hard to deal with while traveling.

[Ontorisa]

Black Iron Passage, Northern Louisiana

Monet turned around to see Zach scramble backwards, firing his 10mm pistol behind him as he staggered onto the pavement. Meanwhile, Brian, handing his shotgun to Rachel to fire, began tossing dynamite into the caves, in hopes of sealing them off. Automatic fire broke out as a few guards began closing the distance with the scorpions, using their sub-machine guns to engage them.

"Fuck! Rocky! We gotta move man!" Monet shouted as he shot a scorpion that was dragging one of the travellers into the cave.

The .308 Winchester round entered the scorpion's pincer as its spiked tail came down on the traveller. Two things happened at once, the traveller basically jolted and died right there as the spike entered then exited her chest, leaving a large stream of blood flowing upwards while the pincer came flying off. The scorpion screeched and left the dead traveller there as a smaller scorpion came by to take the body. Monet fired again and took off the scorpion's face [figuratively] as the round entered and sent the scorpion's body flying backwards a couple of feet into a crumpled pile.

"Holy shit!" Zach shouted as he swung his varmint rifle and fired at an advancing scorpion.

Another explosion and a call from one of the brahmin as Monet took the time to look at it, seeing one of the guards being eaten alive there while the brahmin was subjected to three small scorpions tearing at it. Brian had just thrown his last stick of dynamite before pulling out his sidearm and firing. Meanwhile, Rachel appeared to know how to fight, firing the shotgun dead centre into the scorpion that had been rushing the wagon. The scorpion appeared to hiss at the 12 gauge round hitting hit point blank before Rachel fired again and sent the scorpion retreating back into the caves.

"Brian!" Monet shouted to the caravan master as another brahmin was taken down. "We gotta move man! We're going to get murdered out here!"

Brian appeared to shout something back, but Monet couldn't understand him. However, Rachel apparently got the memo and reloaded her shotgun before jumping from the wagon and began running to Monet. She slid on the pavement and fired again, missing a scorpion that pounced on another traveller.

"We're moving, I think I know a way." Monet nodded back at the caravan. "Should have picked a different caravan Rocky."

Monet began to jog up the road, as the screams and gunfire of the caravan continued, Zach and Rachel following Monet out of pure fear.

Rocky, The Passage

After firing the carbine dry rocky let it drop and made a bee-line for the wagon, "Cover me!" he shouted to the people who had reached relative safety as he ran.

He spotted Brutus's machete and scooped it off the ground for whatever modicum of protection it could provide him and almost immediatly found a use for it - one of the MUT traders Samuel (who insisted that his name be pronounced Sam-you-well) was in trouble, the action on his shotgun jammed and he couldn't get it open to reload as a dog sized scorpion rushed at him intent on getting him as a meal. Samuel tried to use the stock of his weapon as a club to bludgeon the monster and keep it off of him but he had sawed the weapon off and it was too short to be effective against the scorpion in close quarters, it nailed him in the thigh with its tail and grasped his left arm with one of its pincers but Rocky was there in time to interfere and used the machete to cut the barb off of its tail and then hack into the 'wrist' of its pincer causing the limb to be useless and forcing the scorpion to retreat. He had to admit to himself that for being nothing more than a broken off lawnmower blade with wire and tape wrapped around for a handle it made a decent enough weapon in a pinch.

He grabbed Samuel and helped the man limp to the the wagon before he passed out from blood loss and handed him off to Zach and Rachel who pulled him into the back. Rocky followed suit, standing on the small metal lip that was on the back of the wagon grasping the canvas cover with one hand and knocking, "Get moving! Everyone we can get is already on board!"

The third brahmin that had been tied to the back of the wagon to rest had been badly mauled by scorpion attacks and wasn't going to make it and would only slow them down so he cut the rope that tied it to the wagon which gouged the wood and crakced the machete blade so he tossed it it away and pulled out his pistol to fire at anything nasty that came too close.

Now that he had time to breathe Rocky took a look at the carnage of the Scorpion attack and things were not at all good. Brian's dynamite had partially collapsed the tunnel the scorpions had come out of but only the biggest brahmin sized and larger ones would be blocked from it which meant they would be a menace to travellers in the passage for who knows how long. Virtually all of the other travellers and guards were either dead or missing (meaning probably dead) and Samuel was badly wounded. Good news for him was that if Zach and Rachel could get the bleeding to stop Samuel would probably be ok as long as he kept his wound clean. The scorpion toxin would kill the bacteria in his wound and since it was a through and through hit he didn't catch a lethal dose of toxin but he would definitly be in severe pain tonight as the toxin he did get threw his nervous system into overdrive.

Paradoxically the larger scorpion stings were less potent than the smaller ones, a dog sized scorpion would be deadly if you were allergic or had a weak constitution but the babies were the ones what would kill with their sting alone and the big guys, the titans, their venom was so weak that people used it as a seasoning for food! It made your mouth go completly numb for a few seconds before hurting like you had just swallowed a bushel of jalepenos, not that Rocky had tried it himself mind you since he didn't consider pain a flavor so it was all hearsay for him. Rocky snapped out of his thoughts as he heard Samuel reach consciousness for a moment and and cry out in pain as Zach held him down and Rachel made a hack job of stitching his leg. Yeah Samuel would live but he'd be hard to deal with while traveling.

Black Iron Passage, Northern Louisiana

"Holy shit you're heavy Samuel!" Zach shouted as he helped Rachel load Samuel into the back of the wagon before Rachel got in after to work on him. "Where's your friend?"

Looking around, Rachel just looked in horror as dead scorpions and people littered the road. The scorpions appeared to have retreated for now, a lull into the attack, probably trying to find another way around. Monet kept his rifle at the ready, having it up as he shifted back to the wagon.

"Hey, roll call?" Monet asked Rocky as he fired, hitting a scorpion who was beginning to emerge from one of the caves. A squeal from the damn thing probably meant that Monet had either just blown its head off, or just hurt it enough to make it back off.

"Yeah! I'm up!" Zach called as he got out, reloading his Varmint Rifle. "That was hectic."

Brian, who somehow survived the attack just by sitting on his wagon, appeared, holding a baseball bat with nails inside of it and a Beretta M1911 pistol, which was clearly out of ammunition.

"Fucking legionnaires, pieces of shit, what the fucking hell was that?" Brian spewed in a flurry of swear words as he appeared. "Jesus Christ."

"I think we're good Rocky." Monet shouted back as he shifted to the wagon. "What do we do now?"

[SaintB]

*Snip for length*

"We get the hell outta here!" Rocky replied, his voice raised to a nervous pitch.

He took a moment to collect himself, "I say we move about 200 yards and then put up some kind of warning sign about the Scorpions then we scoot as far down the road as we can and find a safe place to set up before Sameul comes too and screams bloody murder. He got stung, its gonna be a long night."

[Ontorisa]

*Snip for length*

"We get the hell outta here!" Rocky replied, his voice raised to a nervous pitch.

He took a moment to collect himself, "I say we move about 200 yards and then put up some kind of warning sign about the Scorpions then we scoot as far down the road as we can and find a safe place to set up before Sameul comes too and screams bloody murder. He got stung, its gonna be a long night."

Black Iron Passage, Northern Louisiana

Monet nodded before Brian silently agreed with Rocky. Motioning for Rocky to jump into the wagon, Zach and Monet both got in while Brian went to the front of the wagon.

"We can probably camp further up," Brian called out before realizing what was missing on the wagon. "Shit, what the hell did we use to drag the wagon again?"

[SaintB]

"We get the hell outta here!" Rocky replied, his voice raised to a nervous pitch.

He took a moment to collect himself, "I say we move about 200 yards and then put up some kind of warning sign about the Scorpions then we scoot as far down the road as we can and find a safe place to set up before Sameul comes too and screams bloody murder. He got stung, its gonna be a long night."

Black Iron Passage, Northern Louisiana

Monet nodded before Brian silently agreed with Rocky. Motioning for Rocky to jump into the wagon, Zach and Monet both got in while Brian went to the front of the wagon.

"We can probably camp further up," Brian called out before realizing what was missing on the wagon. "Shit, what the hell did we use to drag the wagon again?"

Rocky, The Passage

Brian was right, of the three brahmin only one was left alive so Rocky made another quick decision, "We'll just have to carry some of the merchandise ourselves once we get clear, but lets not waste anymore time they might come back out soon, or a new wave might come through."

[SaintB]

OOC: I hate to double post but Crawdaddy is long overdue.

Hey brothers and sister, Crawdaddy here! Y'all know that it means it's news time!

Well baby the Plugger has struck again in the allies of Providence. This time two victims turned up simultaneously, killed in the signature Plugger way.

Crawdaddy Jenkins would like to remind you that there is a sizable bounty, 800 caps, for anyone who can kill or capture the Plugger, and 500 to anyone who can provide information that leads the authorities to do it themselves.

So if you're up Providence way help your brothers sisters in Providence man, they need you. The Plugger is up to 15 victims right now as CJ speaks!

So remember if you know anything about the Plugger speak up! Crawdaddy is! He thinks that the Plugger might be come kinda psycho cat, prolly named Ol' Mack.

[Ontorisa]

Black Iron Passage, Northern Louisiana

Monet nodded before Brian silently agreed with Rocky. Motioning for Rocky to jump into the wagon, Zach and Monet both got in while Brian went to the front of the wagon.

"We can probably camp further up," Brian called out before realizing what was missing on the wagon. "Shit, what the hell did we use to drag the wagon again?"

Rocky, The Passage

Brian was right, of the three brahmin only one was left alive so Rocky made another quick decision, "We'll just have to carry some of the merchandise ourselves once we get clear, but lets not waste anymore time they might come back out soon, or a new wave might come through."

Black Iron Passage, Northern Louisiana

"You're god damn right." Brian called back, trying to keep calm and carry on with the caravan, even though most of them were dead or being eaten alive right now.

Brian grabbed the yolks to the wagon and snapped them, moving the only brahmin alive forward at a slow pace as Monet jumped out with his backpack full of the medium weight goods that Brian had loaded in the wagon.

"Zach, if we get ambushed, you better use that shotgun rather than that pea shooter. The varmint does jack shit to the scorps." Monet called out to Zach as they began to clear the carnage, Monet grabbing one of the sub-machine guns that was on the ground and flicked the safety on before moving on.

[Transoxthraxia]

Providence. The squalor and the muck of the place fills my heart with malice and dread. What once was a settlement that was synonymous with hope and civilization now reflects neither concept, which is a great disparity for the people that are enslaved within the city. When my legions march through the streets of the city, the citizens shall know no slavery, no fear, and certainly no death. Perhaps the reason in which I am so intent on slaughtering the innocent of Providence is to send a message to the leaders of the city that they shall know the fear and slavery and barbarism that they impose on those that they rule over. Those that they rule, they may adhere to the barbaric tendencies of their masters, but only because they are forced, only because they have no knowledge of the true civilization. I, even now, am planning my liberation. The fools in charge of Providence have done well to underestimate our force for too long

---

Syagrius was busy writing his memoirs when Diesel knocked on the Magister's door. Entering after an auditory confirmation of allowance, the experienced legionary reported the newest findings to his overlord. "Magister, there are a number of things that need to be told to you. Our raid on the settlement, it was ineffective. From what I've noticed, there has been no visual response from the city itself. The only real reaction are more serious efforts from other settlements to fortify themselves." The aging bandit paused, to allow his master to take in what he had said, before continuing. "And, furthermore, we have three new recruits. They heard of the Fort, and I guess they were lacking protection and food elsewhere, so they've agreed to join the Comes and the Fort, a man and a woman, both relatively good combat stock." Syagrius nodded, somewhat frustrated by Providence's lack of a response, nodded.

"Do you remember, Diesel, the two that we took from the settlement?" Diesel nodded, even though Syagrius was still bent over his desk, writing, a skill which Diesel lacked. "Of course." Syagrius stood, and turned. "Are they still alive?" Diesel thought for a moment. "I think the coward is. The other one died. But the coward is." Syagrius nodded, before stepping towards his aide-de-camp. "Have him thrown into the Coliseum until he can fight no longer. I wish to know how long he could possibly last. Also, I wish for some entertainment? Fetch the clown, I'll await on my throne."

Chuckles lightly applied the paint to his face, ever so slowly. Putting down the brush, he looked at his face, now covered in clown makeup. Smiling in success, he looked at his cracked mirror and saw one of Sygarius's guards standing there. Diesel, he believed the brute was called. " The Magister wishes for entertainment. " Lightly clapping, Chuckles grabbed his duffle bag, and sifted through it. His brow squeezed together in frustration, he looked for the item. After a moment, he chuckled in relief, and reached under the faces, and grasped the item that Sygarius was always entertained by. Hand puppets. Meandering past Diesel, Chuckles quickly set up the hand puppet stage, and began the play of sorts. It was one of Sygarius's favorites, a tale of a puppy that got lost in the woods, and was found by it's owner, adn then proceeded to maul its owner.

Syagrius was not a jolly man, not physically or mentally. However, when Chuckles put on his favourite play, he couldn't help himself but to laugh hysterically. Smacking his right hand on his knee in such a way that it made the slapping sound echo throughout the entire palace chamber, it somewhat unnerved some of the guards that had been assigned to protect Syagrius. But by now, the more experienced members of the legion, such as Diesel, had gotten used to the Magister Militum's odd sense of humour. Diesel just closed his eyes, folded his arms across his chest, and waited for it to be over. Personally, he couldn't stand Chuckles. It wasn't anything against the poor thing personally, but he couldn't really stand any clown.

"Oh, that's rich. The bastard's dog ate the poor man. Oh, Chuckles, you never fail to amuse me." As the finger puppet play was ending, Syagrius stood up, and descended from his throne to approach the clown. He would never have slung his arm around the poor clown, but he did get quite close to the man, walking past him, to have the clown hopefully follow him. "Chuckles, you are perhaps my truest adviser, which perhaps is the most ironic thing about you, since you lack the gift of speech." He often talked his issues through with his clown as they walked through the compound, despite the fact that Chuckles couldn't actually speak. "Chuckles, what do you think of Providence? I know that you despise it, anyone with half a brain does, but what do you think we should do about it? Should we raid the city itself? Or perhaps continue what we've been doing. I tire of shedding blood of those who do not live within Providence, but under them, as you must understand." He looked back on the response from the clown, who normally nodded or shook his head to questions or suggestions that Syagrius posed.

[SaintB]

Rocky, The Passage

Brian was right, of the three brahmin only one was left alive so Rocky made another quick decision, "We'll just have to carry some of the merchandise ourselves once we get clear, but lets not waste anymore time they might come back out soon, or a new wave might come through."

Black Iron Passage, Northern Louisiana

"You're god damn right." Brian called back, trying to keep calm and carry on with the caravan, even though most of them were dead or being eaten alive right now.

Brian grabbed the yolks to the wagon and snapped them, moving the only brahmin alive forward at a slow pace as Monet jumped out with his backpack full of the medium weight goods that Brian had loaded in the wagon.

"Zach, if we get ambushed, you better use that shotgun rather than that pea shooter. The varmint does jack shit to the scorps." Monet called out to Zach as they began to clear the carnage, Monet grabbing one of the sub-machine guns that was on the ground and flicked the safety on before moving on.

Rocky, The Passage

Brian stopped the wagon after about 250 yards and Rocky hopped down from the back. Since the other MUT was dead and Samuel was entirely unconscious nobody complained when Rocky pulled 24 bottles of Nuka Cola out of its wooden crate and then smashed the sides off with a Rock; on the bottom of the crate he used apiece of chalk to right DANGER: SCORPIONS and made a crude drawing of a radscorpion underneath. A few pieces of duct tape was used to affix the crude sign to Brutus's Machete which he jammed into the ground,the rest of the wooden bits and tape he made into small wooden crosses which he wrote the names of all the confirmed dead on and placed them around the sign as a type of monument. It wasn't much but it was the better than they probably would have gotten otherwise.

That done Rocky also grabbed a sack of furs from the back of the wagon and slung it over his shoulder and walked up in front of the wagon with Monet. He reloaded the carbine and looked back to everyone, "Those of us who can will need to carry some weight and we need to move, Samuel is going to wake up soon and when he does he'll start screaming. Scorpion toxin causes damage to the nerves and he'll be in severe pain in the everything, he may also be temporarily paralyzed which won't help his mood any. We need to put distance between us and those monsters and maybe find something to shove in Sam's mouth and soon."

Outside Providence, 4 days later.

The trip went without too much of a hitch after the scorpion assault other than the lost time; what should have been a trip of about one and a half to two days to go about 30 miles took twice as long since only having one brahmin and having to carry supplies on their back slowed the pace too a crawl for the first leg of their journey and time lost hiding Samuel and silencing his pained yells. Down the once iconic Route 66 to 61 took the longest stretch of time but at the junction Brian and a now fully functional Samuel negotiated some of their goods for two new brahmin and the next day and a half they made excellent time. Now they stood at the entrance to Providence still a couple miles out from the town proper by a village known as Scotlandville where armed men from the city's garrison at a base named A&M had set up a checkpoint and were searching and questioning everyone that was coming and going. The survivors had been standing in the shade but the humid Louisiana air had them all covered in moist sweat and the stink of animal's, their feces, and unwashed human and ghoul bodies made Rocky feel a little sick to his stomach.

It was surprising how fast the scenery had changed, almost as soon as they had left the Black Iron Passage the terrain became much flatter with less hills and more of a gentle rolling kind of landscape with dense patches of hardwoods that gradually gave way to pine trees with lots of open meadows in them full of colorful plants Rocky hadn't never seen before. Now here outside of Scotlandville the landscape was changing again to give way to wetter ground thick with ponds and cyprus trees that made him realize they were heading right into a swamp. This was the farthest North that Providence patrolled regularly and according to Brian the remaining few miles after the checkpoint would not only go fast they would be the safest miles you'd ever walk in Louisiana. The reason for all the hassle was the Plugger killings and some raiders fashioning themselves after Romans (what was it with psychopaths and Rome?) had also been hitting settlements that were under the jurisdiction and protection of Providence, so it had been explained by a merchant heading Northwest. For now there was nothing to do but wait their turn while the three caravans ahead were processed which took between 30 minutes to an hour or more each...

[Kazarogkai]

Outskirts of Gibsland, Bienville Parish, Louisiana
The Bundle of Knives
Warlord Cornelius White

The Lights of the settlement derived from various fires within home hearths and a few bonfires illuminated it like a candle in the night. Only a handful were up at night. Those on official business like guards and those with less than official business like lovers in the night. Regardless that was unimportant for it had little bearing on what are intent was this night of all nights. It was if you are wondering this was not the day of days that was to come, this was merely meant lead to that fateful day when the artillery would rumble, The rifles would crackle, and the screams of those who are to depart would be heard into the dark night where only terrors shall spew forth without respite nor apparent end. But for now like elves in the shadows we must lurk and sneak so that we may see but not be seen what was needed. With Such deliberate disguises Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves we move upon the corner of the eyes of those who should see for the eyes are not here with us. We stalk and we pant like wolves on the hunt with the scent of blood in are noses and the moment upon which to strike being right upon us. The dear was near so tempting but alas the civilized mind within me knew to wait and bide my time for those who wait just a little longer will inevitably get the majority of the flock.

Intelligence was gathered upon the settlement some of which was known others not. Coordinates, troop movements, timetables, and the like were all recorded when the opportunity presented itself to I and my small group of conspirators numbering no more than maybe 2 dozen of a rather handpicked and elite variety needed for such a mission. What could rather easily be deduced was things relating to geography like the fact that the settlement only stood on a tiny hill that wasn't even enough to give them a commanding view of the surrounding area. The land itself was comparably level in regards to what was usually found in this area and the trees grew high concealing the settlement a bit but also giving those the opportunity to hide in their shade and surreptitiously make their way over without much warning. Despite these glaring deficiencies which made it clear this place was not really made with defense on it's mind this was a prosperous part in this otherwise depressed region in comparison to most places. It had a large population and it was a trade hub for the surrounding hub, it''s pull could even be felt in my own Domain, using it's agricultural prosperity as weight. But peace had bought a laziness to the people and had made them grow soft and fat off their prosperity being led into the delusion that it would last forever. The guardsmen though seemingly impressive were just as corrupted as the rest rarely doing their duties like watching the border and being able to respond at a moments notice to threats. The local militia met informally if ever and when it did it would laughable to call that they did training. By far the most formidable thing of this entire place was it's rather impressive wall divided into 2 sections one outer composed of wooden stockades and thorny hedges that circumnavigated the settlement as a whole. The last Section was made of adobe and some stone with blockhouses that were placed on all the cardinal directions, in was made to surround only a central court area within the settlement that was occupied by the local government office and a few other important buildings of note as was usual. Something surprising was actually the armament of the local forces who were armed with firearms some of which were even in semi-decent condition. Unlike the tribal in the area with their usual Javelins and occasional crude muskets we observed some of the guards here were armed with Hunting rifles, a reflection of the wealth of Gibsland. But with are observations we could clearly see that despite their defenses and weapons it was all a big bluff, a show to fool the stupid into thinking power when there really wasn't any. A hard outer shell that would soon be cracked and a soft rotting inside that would be soon scooped up.

Some time following

We marched along in the dark with only a murmur here and there with a whisper sometimes. The trees rose above us like men reaching their arms to the sky covering with their shadows the land that stood before us. To the uninitiated it was pitch and unnavigable but for those with the know how it was familiar and would not daunt them. Above us in the black cloth that covered the world were small holes from where light shone down of various shades and colors from blues to reads and even white. I was familiar to this land for it was my home and even though I had been away for so long it still did not confuse nor misguide me in any way. Near are feet low lying clouds cruised through like a ghost sea that snaked it's way across the surface and swirled around are legs like rocks. We walked on returning to where I rest would be, where we the vipers would lay are heads and wait for are time to come when we could strike...

The warmth of your love
is like the warmth of the sun
and this will be our year
took a long time to come

[Badafar]

The Three Rivers Wildlife Management, along the Mississippi river.
''Louisiana Cleavers' base of operations.

The camp had been up and running for a few weeks now since they had moved to Louisiana after the fall of their last one, the camp was not very large but big enough for the amount of people they had left. The area they had picked was located along the Mississippi river in an old wildlife management area, the camp was positioned between two rivers which gave them the strategic advantage in the event of an attack. The area was built up of mostly dense forest, which allowed the raiders to stay concealed from forces looking for them and to provide an abundance of wood for the construction of defences. Overall the place was doing well, they had a line of tents up for sleeping to the north by the slave cells, a large red tent provided a meeting and eating area for the raiders, and an old beached steamboat allowed for them to store their munitions and loot they'd acquired from raids and pillaging.

The place certainly had an atmosphere, they had not raided a place for a while now and the raiders were getting thirsty for blood and usually resorted to Chem's to keep them temporarily calm, the men of the raiders group were becoming almost tribal, with the more people they killed, the more their blood lust rose, they were becoming savages and brutes with little care for life. Thankfully some of the members were sane enough to keep them in check otherwise they'd end up killing themselves. John Taylor sat on his throne in the meeting tent, he wore a set of leather armour he'd made himself, sections of scrap metal had been attached to provide some more protection, and a necklace of human fingers and toes sat snugly around his neck. He had been studying the local maps of the area for a little while now, to see where a good place to send a raiding party out to was. He was busy looking at a particular one showing an area to the south when an interruption pulled his eyes from the paper. His second hand man stepped into the room, he was clad in a suit of dented medieval plate armour decorated with a military chest rig holding magazines and grenades. John looked up at the man, his face covered by a bloody hockey mask.

"What is it?" he'd yell out, clearly angered by the interruption. The man replied quickly as not to annoy his master any further, "A large caravan has been spotted by scouts a little to the south, they are travelling along the road over there and we can intercept them." John nodded and stood up from his throne. If they were to get this caravan, the boys would hopefully calm down and we'd get some loot along with it. "Get the men ready! send a 50 man raiding party, this one will ought to get their hands dirty." the man nodded and quickly ran outside, yelling at the raiders to get ready for an attack. They were overjoyed and screams of excitement echoed through the woods as they funnelled into the steamboat to go grab their gear. Within half an hour they were all ready, everyone stood around the camp armed and on a hair trigger. "Alright lads, roll out!" John would scream out while grabbing his rifle, signalling to get moving.

The trip to the ambush spot was quick as the raiders were all excited, it was a large caravan after all which meant lots of gear and lots of blood. The plan was easy enough, they were to hide in the bushes and the trees along the road and to pop up once the caravan was in front of them, first they'd go for the guards, then everyone else. Taking slaves usually was the last on the agenda of the raids. And, they waited, and waited. The raiders were impatient and began to squirm around, and there it was. A line of brahmin covered with packs appeared along the road heading their way, they were escorted by a group of armed guards and a few traders it seemed. The gear on the back of the brahmin seemed plentiful, the raiders began to grin devilishly while they sat and waited. And then, the first line of the attack began. The men further back began to open fire at the guards in the caravan, they were using a mixture of fully automatic assault rifles and SMG's which quickly suppressed the guards, the men by the brahmin yelled in fear as they struggled to shoot back, unable to aim with the torrent of bullets flying at them, the sound of the weapons being discharged left a loud ringing noises in most peoples ears, the raiders were mostly used to it. Once most of the guards were down, the rest came out of hiding. The men screamed at the top of their lungs as they ran up to the caravan, these men were mostly armed with SMG's and melee weapons such as cleavers and hammers. They hacked and slashed at the traders, dragging them out of hiding while they struck again and again, by the end of it they were nothing much left, covered with gashes, cuts and broken bones. Blood ran across the road in big puddles and splatters, dying the grass around them in a rich crimson. Only very few people of the caravan survived the attack, and those were barely alive themselves. Around 5 raiders were killed during he initial charge however, but the others didn't care much and left their bodies to rot by the road. Once they had cleared out the caravan they set to work, offloading all of the gear from the Brahmin, discarding the useless stuff while packing backpacks and sacks with the useful items like ammunition, food, water and caps.

The surviving members of the caravan were stripped down and shackled before being fit with a makeshift bomb collar, wounded cries of fear and loss filled the night as they were transported back to camp where the men were tossed into metal cells where they were beaten, tortured and harassed., and the women.. well, you can probably guess what happened to them. It was an overall success and had kept the raiders satisified. The night was coming up, and John and most of the raiders began to sleep off their pent up thirst for blood.

[Neo-Chicago]

Jacob, The Haven Broadcast

"Hellooooooo wasteland! Jacob Crownley here, bringing the news to you! Not literally of course; I'm a Christian, not a Jehovah's Witness. Not much has gone down in New Orleans as of late. We've had to amputate the General's leg, and are replacing with a piece of wood, so don't mistake him for a pirate! Jokes aside, we're currently looking into replacing it with a cybernetic limb which we'll be retrieving from a confidential location. Anyone who wants to join up, come down to The Haven in the Chapel Bend! Until then, watch the Mississippi for us; a river carved by God Himself, not like Panama.

Scout Daniel, Baton Rouge Bayou

Daniel had grown weary, and was now half asleep on the makeshift bench. He awoke to a sharp pain in his left temple, and on the ground near him, he found an empty bottle of Nuka-Cola, with a spot of blood.
"About time you woke up, you lazy SOB." Scout Mark said, sitting beside Daniel in a green folding chair.
"Hey, you throw this at me?" Daniel asked, holding the bottle in his hand, annoyed.
"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. Was just finishing what your dad started when he dropped you on your head." Mark replied, smirking.
"Well what the- You know what, I don't even care anymore. You know morse code?" the first scout inquired. The piece of paper he had written on had just resurfaced in his memory, and he pulled it out of the tent.
"Let me see, I think I've got something in here about it..." he told Daniel, as he rummaged through a backpack. Eventually, he pulled out a thick book, entitled "Codes, Ciphers 'n More!" He began to flip through it, until he found a chapter entitled "Five Dashes, a Dot, a Dash, and Five Dots!" Pointing at it, he turned back to Daniel. "Here we go, Morse code... Lemme see that piece of paper for a second." Mark told him.
"Yeah, sure." Daniel responded. He handed the piece of paper to Mark, who began hastily scrawling something at the bottom.
"Here, have a look." Mark told him, handing the paper back. On it were the letters:

"CQ CQ CQ DE BEGU DE EMRG PLS CK NW K"

"Well that's just complete nonsense." Daniel said, annoyed.
"No. No it's not. There's something about it in the book." Mark corrected. He began flipping through the book again, and found a chapter entitled "Ham: Not Just Bacon!". After this, he grabbed the piece of paper from Daniel, and wrote a translation below the seemingly nonsensical letters.

"Seek you, seek you, seek you. This is BEGU. This is emergency, please check now, over."

"From the looks of it, it's pretty amateur, even for amateur radio. I wouldn't be surprised if he just had this book out and typed in the first things he saw that could coherently explain the situation. The station ID is Bravo Echo Gamma Uniform, which could stand for something. I dunno, worth checking out. Maybe we can find a way to trace the radio station." Mark suggested. Daniel turned the radio back on, adjusting the antenna.

Senior Knight Matthias, SS Natchez

Matthias was blissfully unaware of the events that would come, as he slept soundly. The Gatekeepers were sleeping in the quarters beneath the riverboat, and for Matthias, this was a rest long overdue. He had been at the helm of the Natchez all day, and some of the night. It was about 3:00 AM that the first of the creatures arrived, a hulking figure with an unnatural silence. Several more came, two of which had spikes of barbed wire jutting from their chests and backs. Their nest was but a stone's throw away, in Prairie Lake. As more and more joined the gathering, the mass had begun to shift towards the Natchez, through the destroyed home that so many unsuspecting wastelanders had spent the night in, only to awaken in the arms of a monstrosity. It was then that they exited the thicket of trees, stepping through the invisible partition between their natural surroundings and the land of the humans. After that was the next milestone of their steady journey, the rocky land that the riverboat had washed up on after being attacked. Louisiana was angry at the stubborn humans who refused to die, and she was using these creatures to do her bidding, whether they were aware of it or not. The creatures surrounded the riverboat, and yet no one inside even stirred, as planned.
The creatures roared, and the magnitude of their ferocity would make even a deathclaw whimper in fear and flee, its tail between its legs. Matthias was awakened by this outcry, as were most of the other Gatekeepers. They were pulling on their armor when the boat was initially struck. Sarah was knocked to the ground and given a broken nose by the event. The Gatekeepers scrambled for their weapons when the Natchez began to slide into the Mississippi, the creatures roaring once again. Although many of the repairs had been successful, they were far from finalized. Water was already seeping in through the cracks. The guardrail was torn from the side of the boat, resulting in a sound of twisted metal.
"M... Matthias..." came a stifled plea from below decks.
"Sarah!" Matthias yelled, after he realized who was still missing above decks. The water was already thigh deep, and several of the pieces of metal had torn loose. Matthias threw Sarah over his shoulders, and as he did, she spewed water from her mouth, and coughed. A shriek came from above decks, followed by a horrible tearing sound and several other screams. The only sounds were those of laserfire, gunfire, and the deafening roar of water pouring into the Natchez. Matthias ran up the stairs of the Natchez, and saw several colossal beasts covered in a tangle of vines. The Natchez was similar in size to a jumbo jet, minus the wings of course, except wider. Compared to these creatures, however, it was the size of a minivan. Matthias and Sarah jumped ship, along with 25 or so Gatekeepers. The ship was now enveloped in a green glow, and Matthias realized with a dawning horror what was happening. The Gatekeepers that had gone overboard had now washed up on the other shore.
"The ship's reactor is going to blow, damn it, get off the ship! That's an order!" Matthias yelled.
"Then consider this a mutiny. Someone's gotta stay aboard to keep the monsters here. It's what Jeremiah would have wanted." said one of the knights standing in the glow of the reactor.
"Not like this, damn you, and you know it! He wouldn't have let you sacrifice yourself!" Matthias continued to implore.
"Are you sure he wouldn't have? Or is it just that you wouldn't have?" the knight asked. As the creatures continued to wreak havoc on the boat, unaware of the coming explosion, the Gatekeepers that had chosen to stay now stood, arms interlocked, with solemn looks on their face. The glow finally reached its apex, and all were consumed by the fiery blast, twenty times the breadth of an explosion caused by a mininuke. Bodies were propelled ninety feet into the air, and for a full minute, the sky rained blood. Pieces of metal and similar pieces of wreckage rained down as well, and three of the bodies of those creatures that had caused the event slammed into the waters of the Mississippi. Matthias fell to his knees, weeping.

Matt Shaw, Barksdale AFB

Matt was becoming bored with his simple life at the Air Force Base. His experience with the Enclave was the same as the experience a child has when they stay up all Christmas night, waiting for Santa Claus to come. It was a humid midafternoon when he managed to intercept an Enclave signal from Chicago, the signal.
"We've received no word from the unit sent down to New Orleans to secure the 'merchandise'. Sir, do we have permission to resort to Plan B? Over." said a man, in his mid-30s or so.
"Permission... granted, over." responded a far older man, with a great degree of hesitation. This exchange would mean nothing to a layman, but to Matt, it meant the world. Not just because it was word of Enclave presence in Louisiana, but because it gave him an opportunity to aid the Enclave. He began to pack everything of use in the base, and everything of value to him. Matt threw all of this into the back of his armored truck, the one that took five years to restore. It was filled up with gas siphoned from the other vehicles in the base. He had fitted it with offroad tires suited to travel in the bayou, and even spraypainted the words "E Pluribus Unum" and "America Will Rise Again!" in blue on the side. The truck was painted a striking crimson, the paint job applied by Matt himself. The back of the truck was reinforced with steel, and meant for transporting cargo. It even had two steel windowless doors on the back, which could be locked. He stored the weapons he would not keep in the cab back there, along with the riot gear. In the cab, he stored a case of Nuka Cola, which would be empty long before he reached New Orleans. After a long farewell to the place he spent most of his life, he hopped in the truck. He had practiced driving up and down the air strip many times. He turned a dial, and was surprised when the radio actually came on.
"Well I'll be damned, the thing still works!" he exclaimed. He fiddled with the radio a bit more, until he found a station that was playing country music. As he reversed out of the small garage, Jerry Reed sang of beer in Texarcana, and at this Matt chuckled. Matt was now driving down a boulevard riddled with potholes, and was grateful for the fact that the truck came outfitted with these offroad tires. It was times like this that made Matt think that the nuclear apocalypse wasn't all bad, because from what he'd read, you wouldn't have moments like this with civilization breathing down your neck. Many animals scurried away at the sound of the motor in the truck, a sound that even their distant ancestors hadn't heard for some time. This was going to be a fun journey, Matt thought as he cruised down Barksdale Boulevard.

[SaintB]

¡Buenos hermanos y hermanas días! Or if you prefer 'Good day brothers and sisters!'

Crawdaddy Jenkins here man and of course that means its news time!

Its that time of the year again baby, the Boat People have arrived in Louisiana once again. They've already stopped in Rat City and within a week they'll be in Vendetta too.

The arrival of the Boat People's floating city is always a cause for celebration along the coastline as they bring exotic goods from Mexico and all around the Gulf but by the end of this month they'll have moved on, floating along the currents to Texas and further on down.

So if you want to partake in the partay you better move your asses down to the Big Easy before it's too late because these kings of the ocean road are only here for a limited time.

[Republic of Coldwater]

Leviticus, Louisiana
The chime of "Maryland my Maryland" awakens the small town on a frosty morning. People slowly arise from their beds as they dress and go to their daily sermon, where pastor Ryan Perrault preaches to the people of the town named after the third book of the Holy Bible.

Soon, the 200 citizens of the town sit down on what should be the largest active church in Louisiana, or maybe the entire wasteland. As people greet each other and talk about their day and their plans, the pastor picks up his dusty bible. His graying hair and weary eyes look around the church as members take their seats.

The pastor clears his throat, and says "Thank y'all for coming to this service. Lets first begin by singing a song about our lord, and his mighty powers". Soon, the entire church lets out a beautiful hymn of the "Battle Hymn of the Republic", a song once meant for an Army, now repurposed for religious affairs. The sound of the music resonates across the region as they sing thunderously "Glory, Glory Hallelujah, Glory, Glory Hallelujah, Glory, Glory Hallelujah, and his truth goes marching on"

Once the service is finished, the people go back to their daily purposes. Some of the Rangers go on watch, others go hunting for fauna, and some more heal the wounded as others go to cut down some of the wood in the nearby forest.

Inside the office of Ambrose Winfield, he looks at a pre-war map of Louisiana. The highlight of the map was New Orleans, once a prosperous and glamorous city with a vibrant culture and a fortune of history. "Don't know about the status now" says one of his aides "Nuclear weapons are a big thing, must nowhere near the power of the lord" says Winfield. "Send seven men to the city, we could save some men, perhaps convert some to the lord"

"Sir" replied an aide, as he runs off to order seven troops to march to New Orleans.

[Badafar]

The SS Natchez

A patrol of thirty men from the Louisiana Cleavers had left their camp early morning to go scouting for a site or another group worth raiding. The group was mostly made up of men armed with rusty Varmint rifles and a few 10mm pistols, one man however held an old Rocket launcher he'd acquired from the caravan that they had raided yesterday. The rest had makeshift cleavers and bladed weapons. They walked down the road with a jumped up swagger, swinging their knifes and guns about as they looked around for loot worth taking. They worse mostly leather armour covered with patches of metal railway spikes, dismembered body parts were also taunted about by members of the raiding party. Hands and fingers bounced around off their chest, strung up on fishing line. The day was rather clear, for the most part, the air thick with the smell of swamp gas and death, it was quiet for a while until the sound of an explosion echoed through the trees and over the road, leaves from the nearby trees falling off as the shock wave blasts against them.

"Fuck! tha' hell was that shi'?" one of the men would yell as the others get into the trees and out of sight, raising their weapons while they scan around for nearby combatants. After a few moments of walking and looking around, they came across a large steamboat moored along the Mississippi river, it must've been the source of the explosion, debris was scattered across the ground in large piles of wood and some metal bars and bolts, thick black smoke poured out of the top of the steamboat with flickers and spits of bright orange flame, dancing in the air. Dead bodies and their body parts were clumped up on the ground as they fell back from the explosion, it was a wonderful sight for the raiders, blood and gore always was.

The raiders approached the scene slowly, not stepping to avoid the piles of flesh and bloody fat which splashed up their legs as they stomped through the blood puddles in the thick brown mud. A man sat weeping by the wreck, a pathetic sight of the men as they approached slowly. He wasn't going to much of a fight so they watched briefly before coughing up. "Ey' mud man, why'd you blow up a perfectly good boat?" one of the raiders would say while chuckling to himself, spinning his sword around his hand with a few flicks of his wrist.

[Neo-Chicago]

Senior Knight Matthias, SS Natchez

The 15 or so remaining soldiers, the ones that had not fled into the forest, armed with laser rifles standing behind Matthias and Sarah became alert. Only about a third of them actually had laser rifles, the others were armed with assault rifles, shiskebabs, and the like. Matthias straightened up, grabbing for his laser rifle. He was still badly shaken, but wasn't going to take any chances with these men, men who he thought looked like raiders. Only about half of his men were outfitted in their hazmat suits, reinforced with bits of scrap metal.
"Look man, we don't want any trouble. Our group was attacked by eight or so muckdwellers, those huge creatures covered in dirt that look like trees, and are about as tall as them too. So what do you say you folks just forget you ever saw us? We're poor; no caps on any of us." Matthias reasoned. He sincerely hoped this was just a misunderstanding, and these men were just average wastelanders. Their armor, weapons, and scars said otherwise, however. Although he didn't know the motivation of these people, he guessed... no, he hoped that it was simply caps. It was an honest statement, they usually didn't barter with outsiders, so they didn't need caps.

Knight Dawson, Canal Street

"So Theo, where would we find a cybernetic leg?" asked Dawson, who was standing next to the wreckage of a streetcar that had been derailed some two hundred years ago.
"Dunno. There oughta be a hospital around here, right?" Theo suggested, not too sure of himself. They were right outside the ruins of Harrah's Casino again, although for no particular reason. They began to absent-mindedly walk down the street, when they saw a large red piece of metal, with a plus sign and a caduceus prominently featured on it, as well as the word "Tulane".
"Tulane... Tulane... think that's a hospital?" Dawson wondered aloud, somewhat rhetorically. However, Theo unexpectedly offered a response.
"Well, I mean it's got that medicine sign on the side of it, so I guess. Probably a cybernetic leg somewhere inside the building." he told Dawson, and in the distance, both of them saw a large brick building, with letters saying "lan". However, there were three marks in the shapes of a T, a U, and an E that were darker than the rest of the building. Next to these letters was a large blue H.
"Guess that's our best bet, then." Dawson stated, as they were both thinking it. The two began to walk toward the large building, that now had three sections of wall absent, allowing outsiders to look in...

[Badafar]

Senior Knight Matthias, SS Natchez

The 15 or so remaining soldiers, the ones that had not fled into the forest, armed with laser rifles standing behind Matthias and Sarah became alert. Only about a third of them actually had laser rifles, the others were armed with assault rifles, shiskebabs, and the like. Matthias straightened up, grabbing for his laser rifle. He was still badly shaken, but wasn't going to take any chances with these men, men who he thought looked like raiders. Only about half of his men were outfitted in their hazmat suits, reinforced with bits of scrap metal.
"Look man, we don't want any trouble. Our group was attacked by eight or so muckdwellers, those huge creatures covered in dirt that look like trees, and are about as tall as them too. So what do you say you folks just forget you ever saw us? We're poor; no caps on any of us." Matthias reasoned. He sincerely hoped this was just a misunderstanding, and these men were just average wastelanders. Their armor, weapons, and scars said otherwise, however. Although he didn't know the motivation of these people, he guessed... no, he hoped that it was simply caps. It was an honest statement, they usually didn't barter with outsiders, so they didn't need caps.

The group of thirty raiders glared at the Gatekeepers with expressions of sadistic pleasure, they had the men in just the right situation that they liked the most. The men had no money, but money wasn't always what they needed, they men saw something else that the average bandits wouldn't. The raiders began to walk forward slowly, spreading out from the compact group they usually travelled in, once they were seperated out enough so that they were harder to fire at, they began to reply to the Gatekeepers, keeping their weapons low but ready while they stare at others. "Well, y'see.." the obvious leader of the raiding party spoke first, he seemed to draw the attention of the other raiders easily, his strong physique and combat prowess made him a figurehead of the party, such was the hierarchy went in the raiding group. "We don't necessarily need caps either, we don't tend to buy what we want.. we take it." this lent a few chuckles to the other raiders as they grinned devilishly, tightening their grips on their rifles while some span axes and blades around with their hands. "That armour and those guns you have there.. they'd be a great addition to our arsenal. So how about you let us take 'em, before we have to use our own guns.."

[Neo-Chicago]

Senior Knight Matthias, SS Natchez

Matthias was beginning to have a fight or flight reaction, but stood his ground nonetheless. He could still see this ending in a way favorable to him, and he wasn't about to commit suicide by firing the first shot. Still, if it came to that...
"The thing is, you saw that explosion back there. There are more of us dead than alive, and I reckon that a pretty high amount of that armor is still in tact, same with the weapons. If it can survive one nuclear detonation, it can probably survive another." he told the man who appeared to be the leader of that particular band of raiders. "You know, we're from a vault. Probably lots of goodies in there. We could take you to it if you want. It's just outside of New Orleans." Matthias added, and he thought he saw a momentary gleam in the leader's eye, though he couldn't be sure. He was about ready to suggest that, if the raiders were to attack the Gatekeepers, they would walk away with a significantly lower number of soldiers, if they returned at all. Although the Gatekeepers would probably lose in the end, they would drag quite a few of the raiders with them.

[SaintB]

Rocky, Providence 6 hours later

After the three hour wait at Scotlandville it was another two hours travel to the actual city limits of Providence but like Brian promised it was the safest roads Rocky had seen since reaching the state with patrols moving up and down it at regular intervals and plenty of traffic both ways. When they reached the MUT depot they were thanked for their work guarding the caravan and cut loose but not before they got paid pretty handsomely. The rate for the two day caravan from St. Jaques to Providence was supposed to be 20 caps a day because of the shortness and danger of the job but Samuel was grateful for being saved like he was and refunded the fees for Rachel and Zach's passage with the caravan while Rocky and Money were paid a sizable bonus each, Monet was paid full compensation for the four days of guard duty and then with a 'Nah what the hell.', got 20 more for an even 100 while they gave Rocky 60, compensation for five whole days minus the 40 he owed; Rocky passed a third of that to Monet and kept 40 for himself to buy ammo with. He was almost dry on 5mm.

"If you guys ever want to guard a caravan I'm overseeing again you get in touch with the Union, I'll hire you on in a heartbeat." Samuel said as he shook both their hands.

Rocky smirked at him, "No way, you get into too much scorpion trouble brother."

Minutes later the two regulators were heading down the road while Rocky started talking, "My first order of business is to get ammo, I only have 140 caps to my name for now but I'm down to a single magazine for this thing, and hardly any for the pistol either. Then I plan on investigating this plugger thing, there is kind of a big reward for it but I'm more after the prestige - if we can break this case open then we'll have earned a reputation for catching scum and that will make setting up a posse easier. Know what I mean?"

[Kazarogkai]

Arcadia, Bienville Parish, Louisiana
The Bundle of Knives
Warlord Cornelius White

The sound of drums could be heard within the yard and outside even. The melody they a=made was conducted in a coordinated manner giving basic commands to the NCOs who relaid the messages to the individual recruits as commands. They drilled and they marched all around performing the maneuvers that would be familiar to the regulars who watched and waited, being on break but having little to do. The troops were restless, blood had not been spilt in this land in a very long time, and the proverbial lake was becoming dry in the drought. But they would not have to wait much longer for soon we would march out and whatever war gods one cared to believe in would have their offerings and prayers and great warriors to fill their halls in Valhalla. My army was soon to be ready, and when they were may fate be merciful upon those in their path for the dogs of war are coming to hunt. I sat up from my chair and walked looked upon the myriad faces of the men and women of "The Bundle of Knives" Are enemy stands before us. For so long we have stood here waiting to make are stand, waiting and biding are time. But soon, very soon in fact, we will march out from those gates of our's and make are way to the field of battle where are rifles and canons would roar, and the blood of are enemies will flow upon these grassy fields. This land would soon be ares and are banner would fly up atop the Village of Gibsland. Soon the north shall be ares for the taking, but for now we must wait as usual.

A little bit later

I made my way along the streets of Arcadia, my settlement, and saw the many sights. On the corner from me stood a theater where on stage performers did their tricks to prospective audiences ranging from magic shows to plays of old like that of Shakespeare or Miller and occasionally even poetry was read aloud, From which I could hear a little bit of Edgar Allen Poe being read to a small crowd. Along the street ways little shops were opened hawking various wares from veggies strait from the farms to little toys for the children. II went up to one and grabbed what one would probably describe as a pear, throwing a cap to the seller as compensation, and I bite into it with gusto. It has a sweet taste though with a slightly tart texture at the end which I personally found as a rather nice combination. Small children just out of school played along the sidewalk ball games, card games, and games I didn't even know how to describe well except that they derived from a child's imagination clearly. I had supported the opening of a school that was open once a week for a few hours to teach those who attended the basics like reading, writing, and arithmetic. Mostly just the urban kids went to it for it was close, the rural kids being too far away and having too much work. But I planned on opening, once I had the money flow of course. The conquest of Gibsland is exactly what I needed in order to propel me up So I could do what I wanted to do. It was just another stop on the path that I have chosen to take.

[Republic of Coldwater]

Leviticus, Louisiana
Seven men were picked from the Rangers to lead the expedition to New Orleans. They were some of the most seasoned veterans of the Lord's Rangers, having served in numerous engagements in all sorts of terrain. They have never, however, approached New Orleans, as they have been mainly serving the people in the nearby towns, cities and settlements, not something on the other side of the state.

The men were picked, and they marched to the outer areas of the city. Ambrose Winfield walked in front of them, and handed them each a .45-70 Repeater, and a .357 Magnum Revolver. Both of these weapons are easy to fix and to produce, but these weapons were the finest, and the most expensive, costing up to 2500 Caps for the repeater, and 1000 caps for the Revolver. Winfield shook each of their hands, and saluted them.

"May the Lord be by your side, wherever you might be" said Winfield. He saluted them once again, and the men begin their march to New Orleans, now named Rat City.

The Louisiana Marshes
The water wasn't cold, and slightly warm, and neither was it high. The calm waters went up to around the knees of the men as they scan the area with their Repeaters. The marsh was devoid of any life, with a land so destitute, and with small lumps of dirt being between bodies of water, and even those lumps of dirt were unstable, and prone to succumbing to the water.

The men keep on marching into the marsh, following the map given to them. As they turn their heads to scan the area, a herculean mutant surfaced from the water 20 feet in front of them. Letting out a petrifying roar, the men quickly grabbed their repeaters, and aimed down their weapons.

"Go for the land!" shouted Hank Walterson, as the men scuffle to go to the lumps of dirt between the bodies of water. The creature moves forward, towards the humans.

"FIRE!" shouted a solider, and soon, their guns all go off, firing at the mutant, so terrifying with its roar, with is posture, and so herculean with its size. It roars and howls, deafening the ears as they men try their best to kill the thing. Despite the rounds fired, it seems to be quite resistant. It crawls forward, howling once more, this time faster than ever.

The men fire more and more of their rounds on the monster, aiming for its head, its eyes, its mouth, but despite the damages incurred upon the monster, it continues to crawl forward, before yanking its head towards a Ranger's leg, and yanking it the other way, tearing the leg off.

The Ranger screams in pain as the brown dirt quickly is tainted with the crimson red blood of the Ranger. He pulls out his .357 Magnum revolver and lets out the thunderous roar of the revolver as his mortal wound inflicted upon him takes over. Blood gushes out of his leg as he cries for help. The mutant, however, is not deterred by the gun, and charges forward, leaps, and hacks the head of the Ranger off his body.

"Dammit!" said a man in horror as he retreats, not firing, afraid of being killed by the mutant. "In all my years, I haven't seen anything like that mutant, that thing is impossible to get rid of" said another, as they run as fast as the could, away from the monster feasting on one of their comrades.