Fallout: Louisiana Blues | IC | Closed and Dead |

[Landenburg]

It was a good day for D'Spayr and his brother Bluhd, as they had found a bit of fuel for the buggy. Driving it around, hitting ramps whenever they could joyously laughing and screaming at the air that they were getting. Every now and then, they would switch drivers and D'Spayr would hit targets while moving at high speeds in the buggy. After a couple of prospectors had their brains splattered all over the rubbish that they were inspecting, D'Spayr got a bit bored. "Brother, let's go somewhere we haven't been before! We gonna have us a good time!" he shouted over the roaring engine. Bluhd then veered off and started driving the only place in the area that they hadn't been.

After a bit, they could see the fortress of Comes Danube.

[Kazarogkai]

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

I had marched my force through the dark woods, across swampy ponds and creeks, and over the gently rolling hills that characterized this land. We marched are way along to reach are destination passing the shadows that watched like old sentinels from all around, beasts who yapped at us with howls and sneers, and a gray hazy sky that mocked us with the possibility of storm. Thunder could be heard in the distance as I walked on with my force of 120 fighting men and 20 support troops who came along for the ride. A formidable force we were for any who stood in are way if that was to come, which it certainly was to come when the fighting began. Like star crossed lovers it was are destiny to inevitably meet and collide in a cataclysmic bang that would reverberate like the sound of a drum. For now we blended with the shadows and the darkness using the quiet as are ally so that we may make are way unnoticed and ultimately unopposed by any who would wish us harm.

I remember my troops from that day. Many were green as grass with little experience in combat who were contrasted with grizzled old veterans who had spent a lifetime fighting and would continue to do so until the bitter and more than likely bloody end. Most marched with their hunting rifles as was befit for my standard infantry though a few were designated as assault troops and armed with Lever-action shotguns, and one could even find a few lucky NCOs and officers with proper R91 assault rifles which they cared for like cherished children. Trailing along were the "Fist throwers" of mine which I had finally been able to press into service and integrate into my forces which would aid in the local fire support role along with the heavy troopers I had armed with their Automatic rifles. Backing these smaller big guns were my more heavier "House Stompers" which would be used for the most part in the facilitating of the siege, destroying enemy fortifications and the like. They were massive siege mortars that I had constructed and proved effective in my previous engagement in Arcadia. I previously only had 2 but had been able to increase that to 4 in the time since then. I haven't used them much except as defensive emplacements as a result of their poor mobility but now I had figured this would be a good time to pull all 4 of them out of storage. They required a lot of resources to use but would make are mission much more easier once they were placed on some high ground.

We approached in silence and when the scouts came back and stated the signal of us being near to the settlement the force was sprung into action following through with their previous instructions and timetables under the guidance of their NCOs. The artillery made their way atop the best high ground in the area on a hill known locally as "Little Blue" in reference to the blue grass growing atop it. It was a small hill standing only a couple dozen feet but it would have to do at the moment. Most of my forces were regulars whose job it was to quickly surround the settlement to prevent anyone from entering or leaving for that matter, this is something I had been unable to do fully with Arcadia because of the terrain the shear size of the former settlement it occupied. But now we were capable of doing as such and I did not hesitate to either. A long time in bloody and protracted conflict had hardened me and my resolve, now nothing would stand in my way. While my Regulars surrounded my Assault-Groups when given the signal began to launch probing attacks on the outskirts of the settlement never going to far in so that they would not get bogged down and trapped. Mostly scare tactics on the locals and driven by a need to see the full capabilities of the enemy force it was successful in causing some damage and allowing fear to spread to the locals. It wasn't long before I heard the distinct sound of my "House Stompers" unleashing a fiery assault in a thunderous clap that could be heard probably for miles and were followed by crushing sounds emanating from where they landed which were quickly followed through with screams. I didn't like to hurt civilians honestly and it pained my heart to do so, but this could not be helped much as of now. I learned a hard lesson when in a long ago time I had still been a mercenary leader and had elected to allow the civilian population of a settlement that I was besieging to leave in peace to protect them from injury. I was rewarded for my generosity with having to face a two front conflict with some soldiers who had taken the opportunity to escape the settlement and begun to harass me from the nearby forest land. I eventually was able to manage to lure them in a trap, surround, and burn the forest they occupied with them in it getting rid of the problem. I have since then learned that hard lesson and accepted it. Never the less I had given explicit order to my artillery to avoid hurting the civilian population and instead focus on more important strategic areas like fortifications, armories, and the like. My forces were ready at the sound of drums for whatever are enemy was prepared to throw back at us.

[Prusslandia]

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.

Chuckles knitted his eyebrows together for a moment, and thought. After a few seconds, he gestured for something to write with, as Sygarius had deigned to teach him how to write. Once the man gave him his pencil and a scrap of paper, he hastily scribbled down an answer, stopping to think after a moment, and then finishing his sentence. Looking it over, he nodded in satisfaction and handed the paper to the magister, watching his reaction. Though his writing skills were on par with a first grader, he knew Sygarius would get the message.

We should attack provdence. Make big boom. Crucify mayore. Take ovr.

As Sygarius looked up, he mimed an explosion, rapidly shaking his head with smile.

[Ontorisa]

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?"

Providence, Louisiana

"Haha, man, my brother, Alexander, he runs something down here last time I heard from my sister." Monet replied as he looked over his back in the depot. "We heading over to Providence, yeah? We should probably head over to the Laughing Brahmin, there's some pretty cheap ammunition and booze there."

As they continued, Monet looked around the landscape, different from the Front. He felt homesick, a little bit, but enough for him to imagine Backcush calls or the crackle of fire at night when he was out in the wilderness. Yeah, it was good times. They continued, Monet continuing to remember his Front days as they continued to Providence.

[Kazarogkai]

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

The course of the last day had been rather eventful and honestly quite sensational in it's own morbid way. The volley of my "House-Stompers" had been met with despair from the locals who cried out in both grief and indignation from within in a chorus that could be heard all across the forest lands that surrounded. Stone was crushed and windows were blown out from the many abodes of the settlement. My forces had accomplished their goal and had effectively surrounded the settlement to prevent those who wished from entering and exciting, though even then we sere too few to make this a perfect possibility. The leadership too shocked and fractured to be of much use helped little in quelling the chaos leaving the initiative to the population and those brave enough among them to take it. During the battle a few brave young fellows did do as such storming the local armory for weapons like a mob they gathered their prize and with that attempted to march against my forces. Young and impulsive though they were they had a measure of competence for they chose to attack a rather sensible location, namely the "Little Blue" hill my artillery had been set up upon, and marched their way up with weapons in hand. Armed with spears and rifles they attempted a large sortie to take the hill so as to quiet my artillery but this proved to be without fruit for though I had little time to reinforce the hill it was filled with rocks and ridges that provided ample cover which was only amplified by us controlling the high ground. They attempted their brave assault, all couple dozen of them, but it became quickly clear this would not be their day for their poorly trained fire and ill experienced leadership would be paired with far better equipped and better trained Militants on my part who cut them down like grass with little loss on are part. They fought more like a mob than an actual army and it showed, despite the fire of their leaders egging them on it was not enough to make up for it and as more fell others retreated in grief until eventually like a tide their offensive collapsed and ended in a bloody rout with my "House-Stompers" still firing away as if nothing had even occurred.

I sent some of my assault troops after the routing force causing even more misery and bloodshed against a foe who had more care to run than to actually fight. It became rather evident that my forces were not to be defeated today or possibly ever and with that most organized resistance collapsed. Seeing their bloody and bruised comrades return to their walls, and with it being rather obvious so few would return, the hope was dashed in most of the remainder of the militia forces who outright dropped their weapons and returned to their homes shivering like children praying to whatever gods they wished why they had been forsaken to this fate when for so long they had prosperity. Though I had the opportunity to do so I decided to let my forces rest and instead march upon the settlement the next day when the sun had risen once more. Tomorrow would be are day when we would march upon Gibsland, and tomorrow had come now and we were ready. Despite the night I had my "House-Stompers" continue their great bombardment even into the far reaches of darkness, doing so via the use of a special formula that was doused on the cannonballs before being fired that caused them to be like giant fireballs thereby allowing the teams to be able to know where they were firing at despite the darkness. This did have the dubious quality of being a fire hazard, luckily are target was stone for the most part and this was a wet region with constant rainfall so as such this spared the rest of the Settlement and surrounding forestland from an inferno. When the night was over and the dawn came about I gathered my forces, with my assault men in front acting like a spearhead, and we made are way to the settlement of Gibsland proper. A handful of sharpshooters from within took aim at us with inexperienced fire but these were quickly silenced by my own. When we finally reached the settlement the roar of my artillery still sounded in the distance even from this far away in a loud whooshing sound that was soon followed by a low rumble from far in front of us. The wooden stockades were hopped over by assault men with expert precision and were quickly felled by engineers who cut them down with the hacking of axes and saws. We walked in and at first saw little in what looked like a ghost town. As we marched on occasionally one would see the occasional small face peak out from the windows and would catch glimpse of eyes which were nothing but dazed and confused. Resistance was never really an issue and we made are way quickly through until we reached the stone wall enclosed citadel that stood at the center of Gibsland containing the ineffectual government and what remained of their defenders. Smoke rose from inside making it rather obvious of the barrage which had for many hours befallen it without much in the way of respite. Despite the few within were a stubborn bunch and proceeded to resist for half an hour or so with their scant weapons and what limited ammunition they had for the stockpile of ammo that they did have had suffered damage during the nights barrage from the fiery-cannonballs. As one would expect it was ultimately futile and only served to prolong the conflict and soon enough when their ammunition had run out the local guard raised a white flag and their hands in an act of surrender which i accepted so long as they put their weapons down which they consented to. The sniveling politicians who had formed the local council were holed up in a rather small room and were quickly dragged out by my forces and dispatched with axes to their heads for I was disgusted with by their overall weakness and general poor leadership. I expect much of leaders and when they don't deliver this has a tendency to make me rather angry. My victory was complete.

I stood in the former government building of Gibsland soaking in my surroundings seeing what could be seen. I had discovered a rather respectable library which bought me much delight. I had allowed my officers who had accompanied me to do the overall mop up operations that were involved in securing the place for my self as a new settlement in my ever expanding domain. With it I now controlled 3 settlements comprising Arcadia, Mount Lebanon, and now Gibsland all of which effectively designated me as the leader of the entire northern portion of the parish. I still had to deal with the Montou if I wanted the rest of the parish but for now I could rest, or so I had hoped. It was long but I soon had one of my young assistants run into the Library while I was reading a rather nice book known as One Hundred Years of Solitude and whose intrusion was rather displeasing. I settled myself and let the young man say what needed to be said reporting the rather shocking news that the Montou had effectively ended are ceasefire and had even launched a small raid of Arcadia in my absence. The raid itself had done little for I still had a sizable force present there but never the less it was a development I did not take kindly too, though deep down inside I kinda did for I had been desiring to renew the old struggle and now had the chance. In the coming days with the resources now at my disposal I would be in a far better place than I had been in previously giving me new and great opportunities.

Battle of Gibsland
Belligerents
Bundle of Knives
Town of Gibsland
Commanders and Leaders
Bundle of Knives
-Cornelius White
-Capt. Clay
Town of Gibsland
-Town Council(KIA)
-Sheriff Anderson(KIA)
-Luke Talon(KIA)
Strength
Bundle of Knives
*140 Militants
-120 Fighters
-20 Support
Town of Gibsland
*Sheriff Anderson Force
-15 deputies
*Council Guard
-20 Guardsmen
*Local Militia
-60 Potential fighters
Casualties and losses
Bundle of Knives
*32 Casualties
-17 KIA
-15 WIA
Town of Gibsland
*+57 Casualties
-35 KIA
-22 Surrendered
-Unknown wounded, Presumably high

[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?"

Providence, Louisiana

"Haha, man, my brother, Alexander, he runs something down here last time I heard from my sister." Monet replied as he looked over his back in the depot. "We heading over to Providence, yeah? We should probably head over to the Laughing Brahmin, there's some pretty cheap ammunition and booze there."

As they continued, Monet looked around the landscape, different from the Front. He felt homesick, a little bit, but enough for him to imagine Backcush calls or the crackle of fire at night when he was out in the wilderness. Yeah, it was good times. They continued, Monet continuing to remember his Front days as they continued to Providence.

OOC I'm sorry this took so long.

Rocky

Listened to his partner's words and nodded, "If the cheap ammo aint surplus then the Laughing Brahmin sounds good to me." he agreed.

It was not a long walk to get from the MUT depot to the actual city of Providence by heading down a straight avenue into an area that had a guard station on the left and some pre-war houses on the right that were in varying condition. Some of them were still inhabitable and people did in fact live in them while others seemed run down and the rest had obviously been scavenged for materials to repair/maintain the lived in homes. After passing a horseshoe shaped road with a sign that said "nayberhud ov capitle park" the street they were one terminated into an offset alley so Rocky turned left to a wider avenue with an old pre-war sign that marked it as N. 22nd Street. This street was busier than the sleepy road that he and Monet had been strolling down only moments before and he paused a moment to watch the traffic before asking Monet, "So whereabouts is the Laughing Brahmin?"

[Kazarogkai]

in between Bryceland and Bienville, Bienville Parish, Louisiana
The Bundle of Knives
Warlord Cornelius White

Thunderclouds in the distance signaled the return of war to the land:; But so did the blood and gore that lay upon the ground. A few corpses were strewn up the approach of the hill but more lay near the top and in a trench that had been dug before hand meant to protect the inhabitants but in the end wasn't enough. My militants had made their way up in the face of the spear chucking and musket wielding tribal warriors who fought with valor though with little wit. We could kill them with are rifles from farther than they could every hope and when we got closer are shotguns cut them down when they tried and failed to charge. Their gravest error though was when they attempted to return to their once safe trench and found rather spectacularly their folly when they were followed by our grenades and then butchered by are knives and other brutal implements meant for the most dangerous of games. I watched on from a nearby hill having allowed my commanders to lead, specifically Capt Capt. Donaldson. Capt. Batholomew was as usual back at home in command of Arcadia while Capt. Clay on the other hand was busy administering over Mount-Lebanon and are most recent victory Gibsland. We were now on are way over to a new victory to add to are name and this was simply an intermission or what was soon to be the inevitable. The Montou were weak and fractures were already starting to appear with the Montou increasing defeats and weakness being prayed on by tigers from the outside who previously lurked in the shadows but now were out in the open to pounce. It was only going to get worse as my armies made their way south and squeezed them into nothingness. The peace that had been bought to the tribes by the confederacy was now ending as the Central rotted and it's influence waned being replaced by what had previously existed with fratricidal conflict over land, women, and cattle.Everything that begins must end. As my armies grow stronger and greater in numbers they grow weaker and less numerous. Before I had to lurk in the shadows behind walls of stone and wood only coming out for quick gains and quickly returning like rats to their holes. But now the tables were turned and now I was ever on the offensive with my ever victorious army behind me and my future before me. Such was the end of an age to be replaced by a new one. Everything that begins must end.

[Elerian]

From the blood soaked bayous, to the irradiated fringes of the Front, Louisiana has been an epicenter of violence, destruction, and bloodshed. Yet, even with all the chaos and raw destruction wrought by its inhabitants, many would still call it home. Those people have all split off into warring factions, with the major three having been Providence, Defiance, and Hellenia. However, that all changed after a series of events spurred major upheavals within each city state.

Providence, sent reeling after the murdering spree of the Providence Plugger, the brutal slaying of the mayor, and the increasingly bold raids at the hands of the Comes Denube, was at an all-time low. But the people of Louisiana were nothing if not tough and resilient folk. A great volunteer army, the likes of which hadn’t having been seen for centuries, was formed with the backbone of the forces taking the form of many a young soul ready to take the fight to the enemies of their nation. And so they marched forth, with the location of the Guardian’s fortified church having been forcefully taken from the lips of the voluntarily captured Guardian. Scouts were sent, yet they found not a soul in the fortified church, the Guardians were not quickly forgotten, but with few leads they quickly were put in the back of the minds of the Providence government, there were other matters at hand.

The Volunteer army, with the Guardians gone had only the Comes Denube to deal with. The soldiers marched north for the raider hide out. A small fort located far from civilization. In a surprise attack the Volunteer army swept over the fort, what followed was a bloodbath. The bandits fought bravely, after the battle was said and done they found a dead clown with a dozen dead or wounded soldiers lying around him. But even with their ferocity they were still outnumbered and outgunned. After the day was won, and believing the bandits to all be dead, the Volunteer army razed the fort to the ground, and behind them they left the bodies of the dead bandits handing from crosses and trees as a testament to what had happened there. Having never seen Syagrius none were able to identify him out of the multitude of corpses, and while he was believed to be dead, his story lived on. Copycats sprang up for many years to come, and his legacy was never truly gone.

While the army was dealing with the Comes Denube, lawmen and women were trying with all their being to find the Plugger. With more resources put towards other projects, the bounty was raised to fifteen hundred caps. Jessie, Rocky, and Monet eventually all found their way to Broussard Bayou, a local community several miles from the bridge crossing the Mississippi. There they found a mysterious group of individuals and upon closer inspection found they were in fact a cult. The “Plugger” was not simply a single killer, but rather a whole group of fanatic cultists. The cult of the White God proved to be a number of inbreds who worshipped a colossal white alligator, to which they sacrificed the locals of Providence and fed the gator their organs. Realizing they were outnumbered, the trio went back to Providence to fetch the local authorities. It was a rather farfetched tale to tell, but with no other leads a number of the local policemen followed the trio back to the cultists. Rather than surrender, the cultists defended their White God to the last man, woman, and child. When it was all said and done, over thirty of the cultists lay dead, however, the massive Alligator was able to escape capture and ended up in the Mississippi. For many years afterwards stories of the gator surfaced all along the Mississippi, even in places as far as Missouri . . .

Over in Defiance, even with the recent deaths of high ranking officials, the people of Defiance were eager to pursue their war with Providence. They signed a truce with Providence, though they continued to pile soldiers on the border. And, with the Volunteer army off chasing bandits, they struck with a vicious fervor. Their soldiers overran the bridge defenses, and flooded into the slums of Providence. Held off momentarily through sheer luck, the soldiers of Defiance soon found themselves trapped upon the return of the Volunteer forces. For three days the two armies clashed until finally what remained of Defiance’s once great army was in shambles. The long war was over. Defiance no longer had the ability to stand against Providence.

However, in the north a new threat was rising. Alexander and his men had conquered nearly three dozen tribes by this point in time. He’d carved a mighty kingdom for himself and his people while the city states of the south squabbled. Yet, Alexander’s attention was turned north at the expanding Bundle of Knives. Their territory had grown, just as Hellenia’s had. So, Alexander vowed he would allow them to expand no further. Taking what men he had, Alexander went out to challenge his new rival on the field of battle. After several preliminary skirmishes, the two were head to head, ready to spill each other’s blood. Just outside of Monroe, on the cracked pavement of Highway 165, the two armies met. For hours they clashed until only one force remained intact. The Bundle of Knives had been crushed, their army scattered, yet their warlord lived on. Taking what people remained to him he fled north and Alexander let him go, for he knew that the man would not return. Cornelius White was now in a state he had known several months’ prior, homelessness. Following the Mississippi northwards, he and his band never returned to Louisiana.

With his Northern border secure, there was only one way for Alexander to go. Travelling south, Alexander followed the old world’s highways and eventually came upon Providence and Defiance. With his experienced soldiers, Alexander was ready for more. Realizing what was happening, the two city states found themselves now as unlikely allies. With what remained of both armies, they banded together to fight their shared enemy, just as before a massive battle was to be fought. Outnumbered, Providence’s Volunteer army, in conjunction with Defiance’s army, held every inch of ground to the last man, and when the times seemed the most dire, Alexander himself came out to break the spirit of his enemy and shatter their army. As he raced headlong into the fray, a gunshot from the woods surrounding the battlefield brought leaden death to Alexander. None of the southern soldiers claimed responsibility for the shot; leading them to speculate that a third party must have been involved. With their leader gone, Hellenia’s armies fled from the field. However, without the will, the combined armies of Providence and Defiance returned home, a new friendship having been formed through the chaos of war. In the years following, Defiance and Providence grew closer until the day came that the two City states merged to form one nation, the Republic of Dixie.
To the south, Morgan City was unaware of what was coming. Gunny, Hugo, and Victor swept into the city at the head of a band of mercenaries. They met initial success, with Victor’s suit taking the brunt of whatever the denizens could throw at them, yet they were picked off one by one until the mercenaries lost heart, leaving while they still could to go back and lick their wounds. This left Victor, Hugo, and Gunny alone to face off with the hordes of psychopaths. With their helpers gone they were forced to fall back, shortly before reaching safety, Gunny was shot in the leg by a pursuer. Hugo and Victor dragged him into a nearby building in which they fended off their pursuers for a number of hours till dawn finally broke over the horizon. Between the three of them, they managed to kill or wound nearly fifty men, but they no longer had any ammo. Gunny, unable to walk, opted to hold off any pursuers while Hugo and Victor escaped. Reluctantly the two men agreed, and then said their final goodbyes to Gunny. Leaving him with what ammo they could loot from the corpses, they stole away as the fighting resumed.

A small cult to the three legendary fighters was formed soon after, years later several people claimed to be a reincarnation of one of the three now fabled figures. Hugo and Victor were forced to go separate ways when the Enclave radioed him that they were nearing Rat City. Hugo headed west towards Legion territory and a number of famous stories spawned from his ensuing adventures.

Victor and the Enclave went on to find the treasure buried beneath a beached oil tanker, inside of which were still stores of unrefined oil. Soon after their arrival, the Enclave task force was greeted by a number of Brotherhood of Steel soldiers who promptly opened fire on the Enclave soldiers. The fighting raged for several days while the Enclave attempted to get through the Tanker and to the vaulted treasure. However, with only meters to go, the Enclave team accidentally caused the oil to ignite, vaporizing them in seconds, and sending a massive explosion sky high. From places as far as Baton Rouge the resulting smoke could be seen, leaving the locals scratching their heads in confusion. Several of the Enclave soldiers survived the blast, having been far enough away to live through the blast, one of those included Victor. Their mission in shambles, the remaining soldiers left the tanker behind and went back north, forcing them to walk all the way back to Chicago, a nearly impossible task, even for them.

The Brotherhood of Steel outcasts, now unable to get to the vault and unable to return to the Capital Wasteland, wandered aimlessly westward in a bid to get to the Mojave Brotherhood chapter.

Crawdaddy continued to broadcast all across Louisiana and its neighboring states for quite some time, brightening the day of his listeners for many years. But all good things must one day end. And so his broadcast suddenly went offline one day, leading to several days of mourning in many settlements. From time to time phantom broadcasts from his station would air, like an eerie reminder of what had been. Yet, even those eventually stopped. Once the Dixie Republic was formed, as a tribute to ol’ Crawdaddy, they took the Crawfish and placed it as the centerpiece on their flag.

In Providence, after taking their reward, Jessie, Rocky, and Monet split ways. Jessie remained in Providence to become one of the premier lawmen of the new Dixie Republic. Rocky went south to New Orleans to Rat City. Once there he started a new chapter of the Regulators with his new found wealth. Then, once it was no longer dependent on him being around, he vanished into the swamps of Louisiana. Monet, after hearing of the Legion’s incursions in the south western portion of the state, left Rocky and went back to gather some friends for one last foray. After reaching Legion territory the group named themselves the Carcajou, or Wolverines. After making several successful hit and runs on the Legionaries, the Legionaries caught on and made an ambush of their own. The bodies of the Carcajou would later line the highway on crosses for many months. Yet, their legacy lived on.

With few soldiers and insignificant allies, the Legion was forced to leave the area after the Dixie Republic began laying pressure on their positions in the form of daily raids. After which, Lake Charles was occupied and made up the western most border of Dixie, with the local garrisoned regiment being called the Wolverines in honor of Monet and his friends.

Up in Barksdale, Matt remained at the Air Force base for some time. With the Enclave’s failure to secure the vault, they left Louisiana behind and never returned. Leaving Matt with no way to meet them in Louisiana, he eventually heard a rumor about an Enclave headquarters in Raven Rock where he soon packed up and headed to, yet even there he would find no trace of them.

Leviticus, a tiny town on an expansive frontier, but also a deeply religious place, something quite foreign to most wastelanders. They too shared the same fate as many small towns along the frontier. They were given an ultimatum by the Dixie Republic, join or be taken by force. Outnumbered, Ambrose saw sense enough to accept the ultimatum, and his was one of the first town to join the fledging Dixie nation, helping to grow it into a great nation state.

With the two powerhouses of Louisiana, even in their weakened state, no other faction would be able to seriously challenge them in the field. Thus they spread like wildfire across the land, annexing Rat City, then moving on to Vendetta not long after, and giving it a long overdue cleansing. And so things went on as they always had. War was raged, blood was spilt, and people died, because war, war never changes . . .

“End? No, the journey doesn't end here. Death is just another path, one that we all must take. The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass, and then you see it.” -J.R.R Tolkein

Its been quite the journey everyone, with interesting twists and turns, but now it all has to end. I hope you enjoy this little finale, and I should hope I covered everything. I bid you adieu for now, and should this be the last I see of you, may the White God grant you speed.