Fallout RP IC

[Tribe of Rinos]

OOC: https://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?f=31&t=425259&p=32624995#p32624995
"War. War never changes.

The Romans waged war to gather slaves and wealth. Spain built an empire from its lust for gold and territory. Hitler shaped a battered Germany into an economic superpower.

But war never changes.

In the 21st century, war was still waged over the resources that could be acquired. Only this time, the spoils of war were also its weapons: Petroleum and Uranium. For these resources, China would invade Alaska, the US would annex Canada, and the European Commonwealth would dissolve into quarreling, bickering nation-states, bent on controlling the last remaining resources on Earth.

In 2077, the storm of world war had come again. In two brief hours, most of the planet was reduced to cinders. And from the ashes of nuclear devastation, a new civilization would struggle to arise." ~from Fallout. Please don't sue.

It is now 2177. Some of you have survived because your ancestors have gained entry into Vaults 391, 243, and 187, all located in New York. Some have been locked out and have had their skin rotted until they were unrecognizable. And the rest had been put in a special experiment called the Forced Evolutionary Virus Program, or the FEV Program, turning you into big green abominations with a blood lust, also called Super Mutants. This is the story of all of you. This, is the Fallout RP.

[Revlona]

Big Joe ripped the humans head off, he enjoyed ripping people's heads off, but usually they where the head of people who annoyed him.
This Human annoyed him, he tried to take over Joe's temporary camp with two of his Human friends, Joe had cut the other two in half.
Usually Joe was somewhat friendly to humans, friendliest of his kind, and most intelligent some said.
Joe had just entered New York and was heading to an old raider camp that is supposed ti be friendly now.

[Pilarcraft]

Ollie's life was a better sight now than what it had been in the Vault. Ollie personally hated seeing the same people every day, and the Vault's population... was always the same. It had been a wonderful sight for the young, malnourished boy of twenty to see the people "just passing through"
of course, that might have been because there had been at least ten raiders on his way that he'd been forced to kill before finding the city. but who was he to say?

[Isapito]

"The Sea Gate Crashers are just coming past me now Mr Buxton, over" Came the voice of the sentry posted by Rockaway Inlet
"Very good Bersley, keep me posted over"
John Buxton stood on the deck of the Black Swan, one of the Ramothan's three 35fter war ships. It was the early hours of the morning as they waited along side the second of the fleet, the Blue Viper, just of the Little Egg. He stood along side his flag captain and two body guards in power armour, it was only raider armour underneath of course but he'd had it brushed up to look smart.
"They're quite far into the bay now Mr Buxton, and heading for Ruffle bar as expected over" said the sentry a little while later.
"Understood, out"
John turned to his flag captain who stood next to him "have the sails hoisted and order the helmsman to make for just of Ruffle"
"Yes Mr Buxton sir, shall I radio to the Grey Sparrow to do the same"
"If you please"
A few moments later John saw that the Black Swan and Blue Viper had each raised two black, triangular sails and were coming about towards the Bar. The Captain returned to stand next to him near the prow.
"We're on a nice beam reach here" He mussed as if weighing up his chances
"And the Sparrow is coming out of Mill Basin to pincer them" reassured John.
He raised the night vision binoculars to his eyes but could still only see a few masts in the dark before handing them off to the Captain. After several minutes of watching the Captain lowered the binoculars and called out to the helm
"Ten degrees down wind if you please" he said before handing of over the binoculars to John. He could see the raider flotilla more clearly now, there was a dozen or so small dinghies, some rowing boats, some sailing boats and closest to Ruffle Bar was the Raider Boss's own vessel, a sleek motor boat.
"Battle stations Mr Buxton sir?" asked the Captain
"Battle stations" affirmed John
Behind him a drummer began to play, brum brum brrrrrrum. Through the binoculars he could see some of the raiders look about in the dark in confusion. With purposeful care he slowly raised a flare gun where everyone could see and fired it up above the raiders. It shot away into the darkness then burst in a bright white star the illuminated the raiders bellow it as John lowered the binoculars.

Next to him the Gatling gun fired into the nearest boat, the incendiary rounds chewing up the gunwale and sending bullets and burning splinters into the raiders, killing or suppressing them. The gunner allowed the recoil of the weapon to bring her aim up, splintering spars and setting rigging and sails ablaze. Over on the Viper the quad barrelled rocket launched a punishing volley into a small rowing boat reducing it to so much flotsam while small arms rang out on all sides. They passed by the first vessel they'd fired on as she lay crippled and John walked to the gunwale drawing his pistol.
"Get a grenade in that" He called shooting down at a raider who tried to come out of cover to fire up at him. His own body guards began firing down, one with a combat shotgun one with a submachine gun. Two more men ran to the side, one firing a burst of fire with a combat shotgun while the other hurled a bundle of pulse mines into the bottom the boat which detonated with a bright blue flash killing all aboard in an instant. Out of the darkness a lance of flame emerged out of the darkness striking one of the Sea Gate Crasher boats and igniting it. In the light of the burning vessel he saw the Swallow emerge from the night like a vengeful deity the great flamethrower at its prow roaring and full sails. She cut the raider flotilla in half as she came down and the Viper and Swan descended on the isolated vessels drive them before them, guns blazing. A man at the gunwale was hit with a laser shot in the chest, his knees going out from under him and his body sliding to the floor. John walked to the port side and fired down at another enemy vessel as it lay sharply tilting from Gatling gun fire. One of his body guards took out an old missile launcher and fired down at the boat putting a new hole in it. He stumbled as a shiver ran through the Swan and he looked forward to see one of the raider vessels being reduced to splinters as she struck the reinforced prow of the Swan, its ram snapping its keel with the impact. As they gained on another three raider vessels John saw the Sea Gate Crashers were throwing down their weapons and waving their arms in surrender.
"Mr Buxton sir?" Asked the flag captain.
"Have the Sparrow take them prisoner"
The remaining half the flotilla was mostly ashore now and John saw that their landing had been contested, in the tree line close to the beach the locals of the island were firing down at the raiders who were returning fire from the cover of their ground boats. The Swan and Viper turned into the wind as they neared the shore and dropped sails. The machine gunner and her assistant rushed to shift the Gatling gun of to the starboard prow then began to suppress the raiders on shore.
"Captain" called John "have some of the men provide cover us from the deck, i'll lead the rest ashore."
A few minutes later Several boats departed from the Viper and Swan coming ashore either side of the raiders. They began to work their way towards each other his two body guards going before him as they squeezed the raiders. As they advanced the raiders gave way under the pressure, some paniced and got them selves killed, most simply surrendered. Slowly the gun fire from all sides petered out. The sand was soaked with blood in some places and blackened by laser rounds, explosives and fire in others and as the battle died down there was only the moaning of the wounded and the crashing of waves on the shore as the raiders with the weapons dropped and arms up looked nervously at the Ramothans and locals who were emerging form the tree line. John saw the raider boss come up from behind his boat and watch towards him, tearing off his helmet the man exclaimed,
"You bastards you" But John shot him in the head before he could say paid me to come here.
"Let that be a lesson to you gate crashers, my name is Mr Buxton, not bastard"
The head of the village situated on the bar made his way towards John. He was a grave looking man in his 40s with a lever action rifle leaning across his shoulder rough armour made of Mirelurk shell.
"Mr Mason" said John
"Mr Buxton, I feel inclined to call you that after that display" he said gesturing to the dead raider boss.
"Oh that was just for that scum" said John gesturing to the prisoners being round up by his men, "you can call me John"
"I guess you can call me Calum then, but what ever I'm calling you I can't say you were the person I expected to come help at a time like this, i'd have thought you'd like to see us gone"
"That's a mite harsh don't you think? Sure we've had our disagreements but I've always respected you Calum, you a hard working honest man. Anyway I consider this my neighbourhood, you don't let people invade your neighbourhood over some minor disagreements do you? It would be a mark on my pride."
Calum regarded him for a moment
"I might have misjudged you John, I'm thinking maybe I might take you up on your offer of protection and that after all"
After about half an hour of hammering out some terms with the village elder John returned to the beach where his captain had come ashore and had been dealing with the prisoners.
"We separated them all out Mr Buxton sir, as standard, them ones over there are the ones are the ones that either joined up because they were young and naïve or can be brought easily. That lot over there" he said pointing to a smaller group of raiders "are the ones too loyal, stubborn or crazy to be dealt with."
"Very good captain" said drawing the revolver the village elder had recently gifted him as he walked towards the line of former lieutenants and veterans "Lets clean up" He said pulling back the hammer and putting it against the back of the first in line's head as she knelt in the sand.

[Cainesland]

Caspers penthouse had everything the modern world now lacked. There was a small library with pre-war books, including his journals from childhood to now, and had an electrical fireplace and some reclining chairs. It had a dining hall with a mahogany table and chandelier. There was a small art gallery with many were collected from one of New Yorks premier arts museum, and the paintings of his own collection were moved throughout the penthouse post-war. There was an indoor pool with lawn chairs beside it. There was a living room that had a billiards table, cards table, a picture of the 10 council members taken in 2078, and a television showing a revolving pre-war photo album. There is a movie room that is rarely used but shows pre war films that havent decayed too badly. And there is also a master bedroom and 3 guest bedrooms with televisions that haven been turned on in 100 years, closets, dressers, and record/holotape players. The pent house took up the top 2 floors and had an entranceway to the roof of the building, on which sat a Virtibird that doesn't fly and hasn't since the great war. The whole apartment had lighting, temperature control, and clean walls and floors.

Casper looked out from the pool room. His reflection shone back at him in the glass. The face of a man that was old when the war hit, and had not gotten any better in the last 100 years. His face still had hair and all its parts, but was now cracked and charred like any ghoul from his years in the radioactive ruins of New York helping organize the council and later just trying to live. Outside he could look down and spot the Republic of Hades, a nation for those from before the war that just wanted a place to call their own. It was they that kept humans from becoming tenants by preventing humans into their borders. Which was one of the causes for so many prominent ghouls to call Corduroy tower its home relative to the other standing pre-war hotels around the city ruins.

[Isapito]

It was midday by the time John rose after his night fighting the Sea Gate Crashers and as he sat at his table eating a trout for brunch a messenger arrived
"Mr Buxton sir, a large group of Super Mutants seems to have occupied the old raider base at Howard Beach"
John Scowled slightly.
"How many are there and what are they doing?"
"The guard thought there might be around 50 Mr Buxton. We don't know what exactly they're doing but they haven't attacked anyone yet. Some of the merchants are reluctant to leave across the north bridge with them so close though"
John sat to think for a minute, Super Mutants usually meant trouble but perhaps if they didn't antagonise them they would wander off, maybe they could even be negotiated with.
"Have the a barge or two and any spare boats we have set up a ferry service for the same price as the bridge toll bring merchants over to Fresh Creek for now, if that isn't enough no doubt some enterprising soul will be there to taxy people over by tomorrow. In the mean time set a scout to keep an eye on these super mutants, look for any hostile activity, get an accurate idea of their numbers and look for anything else that suggests aggressive intensions, a large numbers of heads on spikes and bloody human meat bags for example. But tell them to keep a low profile hmm?
"Yes Mr Buxton"
Slightly troubled John walked to the nearest window and looked out. It wasn't at the right angle to see the Super Mutant's new camp itself but he could look out over the water. He could just about see the roofs of the houses on Little Egg island from here which was controlled by Ramoth and in further out two distant columns of smoke rose into the clear sky, one from Ruffle Bar and one from Canarsie Pol, now both satellites. Among the marsh islands in the centre of the bay he could see fishing boats and small, flat bottomed hunter's craft among the marshes hunting water fowl and Mirelurks while a handful of large ships headed out towards Rockaway Inlet and down the coast to trade with various settlements. He turned to another window, this one faced north across the town. Bellow the markets bustled with life while tanners, blacksmiths, sawmill workers, potters, masons carpenters, dock hands, cooks, merchants, gunsmiths, teachers, tailors, prostitutes, barmen and barbers all plied their trade. Beyond was the farmlands and marshes of the northern half of the island and in the very distance he thought he could just about make out the palisade of the old raider camp. Maybe a bunch of super mutants might not be so bad, an opportunity even.

[Revlona]

Big Joe and His crew where making everything shipshape in there new home, they had just finished patching up a section of the palisade that had rotted away when one of his boys stomped up to him.
"Oi boss, there's a human been up on that old building, he keeps looking at us."

Joe Grunted, He turned to look at two of his boys, "Slug, Ben, come with me"

--25 minutes later--

The three mutants stomped up the stairs of the building, the opened the door to the roof and spotted the human taking a nap.

Joe looked at his boys, "Shoot him if he runs"

He then walked up to the sleeping man and grabbed him by the shirt, hoisting him up, he asked him, "Who are you, and who sent you to spy on us eh?"

[Tysoania]

The Republic of Hades

Far below Corduroy Tower, at the grimy street level, it was just another regular day in the Republic, streets filled with buskers, hookers, chem dealers, Army patrols on the lookout for chem dealers, caravans making their way to the downtown depots, and vendors of all kinds of goods - meat, fresh vegetables, clothes, armour, weapons, it was all for sale on the streets of the Republic. The government was more concerned with ensuring the Republic's survival against the hostile humans of the New York wasteland, and thus allowed most activities as legal; in fact, the only crimes the Republic usually prosecuted were chem distribution, large-scale weapons possession, and murder. However, most citizens knew not to mess with the caravans that made their way along the main streets of the Republic, as anybody that tried to rob or rip off a caravan was usually found dead just outside the Republic's territory or in the bowels of an abandoned building.

It was one of these caravans that was today attempting to make its way to Nuketown. The Central Caravan Company's scouts had reported that the settlement was so far unclaimed by any caravans, and the C.C.C. would try to establish a monopoly on the run before any humans got in on the run. The caravan was loaded with an assortment of cheap goods, food, and some weapons that would be attractive to anyone in the Wasteland, but not worth enough to risk angering the C.C.C.

The caravan arrived at the Republic's north entrance gate and came to a halt as the Army militiamen checked over the caravan's clearance papers. After a brief few minutes, the sergeant commanding the guard contingent gave them clearance to exit, and the militiamen took up firing positions around the gate as it began to grind open. As soon as it opened fully, the caravan hurried on through and the gate began to close again. The Brahmin and caravan guards were on edge as soon as they stepped through the gate. The caravan master wasn't sure how long it would take to get to their destination, and they wanted to be there as quickly as possible.

[Isapito]

"Jesus Christ on a bike" shouted the very surprised scout"I'm just watchin al'right, boss wanted to know if you were friendly like, you guys kinda known for eating folks" He points at his gun lying on the floor "Ain't as if I could have done the 40 odd of you much 'arm with just a pistol on my lonesome."

[Revlona]

"Jesus Christ on a bike" shouted the very surprised scout"I'm just watchin al'right, boss wanted to know if you were friendly like, you guys kinda known for eating folks" He points at his gun lying on the floor "Ain't as if I could have done the 40 odd of you much 'arm with just a pistol on my lonesome."

Joe grunted, "and I'll eat you if you don't start talking more clearly, who's your boss, and where are is your settlement?"

Before he got an answer he looked at Slug and said, "Go down stairs and make sure none of his friends are sneaking up on us."

He then looked back at the scout and waited for an answer.

[Isapito]

"all right all right. I'm from over Ramoth way, cross the old railway bridge see" he says pointing back towards the bridge. "Boss is Mr Buxton, big man round here like"
Just then the radio buzzes
"Radio check up 679er, what your situation please report over"

[Revlona]

"all right all right. I'm from over Ramoth way, cross the old railway bridge see" he says pointing back towards the bridge. "Boss is Mr Buxton, big man round here like"
Just then the radio buzzes
"Radio check up 679er, what your situation please report over"

Joe looked down at the scouts radio, he then looked at the scout.

Placing the scout on his feet and letting go of him joe said, "Tell em, I wanna talk to your boss, tell him i wanna talk to em here, he can bring whoever e wants but i aint letting you go until i speak with em."

[Isapito]

"all right all right. I'm from over Ramoth way, cross the old railway bridge see" he says pointing back towards the bridge. "Boss is Mr Buxton, big man round here like"
Just then the radio buzzes
"Radio check up 679er, what your situation please report over"

Joe looked down at the scouts radio, he then looked at the scout.

Placing the scout on his feet and letting go of him joe said, "Tell em, I wanna talk to your boss, tell him i wanna talk to em here, he can bring whoever e wants but i aint letting you go until i speak with em."

The scout hastily went to the radio.
"This is 679er HQ, I've got a gentleman of the err, large green variety here who wants to speak to the boss real urgent like, like he ain't letting me go till he does urgent" the scout said nervously enough to forget radio protocol.
"Right.." replied the radio operator who had never had to deal with something quite like this before "I'll, radio up the line and see if we can't get him on the line over"
A few minutes a smoothed voice person comes onto the radio.
"Good afternoon I am Mr Buxton, I believe you wanted to talk to me, what might I call you?"

[Revlona]

Joe looked down at the scouts radio, he then looked at the scout.

Placing the scout on his feet and letting go of him joe said, "Tell em, I wanna talk to your boss, tell him i wanna talk to em here, he can bring whoever e wants but i aint letting you go until i speak with em."

The scout hastily went to the radio.
"This is 679er HQ, I've got a gentleman of the err, large green variety here who wants to speak to the boss real urgent like, like he ain't letting me go till he does urgent" the scout said nervously enough to forget radio protocol.
"Right.." replied the radio operator who had never had to deal with something quite like this before "I'll, radio up the line and see if we can't get him on the line over"
A few minutes a smoothed voice person comes onto the radio.
"Good afternoon I am Mr Buxton, I believe you wanted to talk to me, what might I call you?"

Big Joe takes the radio from the scout and says, "Oi, this is Big Joe, why you been sending these boys over to spy on me and my boys eh?"

[Isapito]

The scout hastily went to the radio.
"This is 679er HQ, I've got a gentleman of the err, large green variety here who wants to speak to the boss real urgent like, like he ain't letting me go till he does urgent" the scout said nervously enough to forget radio protocol.
"Right.." replied the radio operator who had never had to deal with something quite like this before "I'll, radio up the line and see if we can't get him on the line over"
A few minutes a smoothed voice person comes onto the radio.
"Good afternoon I am Mr Buxton, I believe you wanted to talk to me, what might I call you?"

Big Joe takes the radio from the scout and says, "Oi, this is Big Joe, why you been sending these boys over to spy on me and my boys eh?"

"Well Joe, I consider our little slice of paradise by the sea to be my... neighbourhood. That makes your my new neighbour, everyone wants to know their neighbours right? How can you be friends with them otherwise? Now if you don't mind I have a question for you. What do you intend to do here Joe? Do you plan to stay? Can we all be good neighbours?

[Revlona]

Big Joe takes the radio from the scout and says, "Oi, this is Big Joe, why you been sending these boys over to spy on me and my boys eh?"

"Well Joe, I consider our little slice of paradise by the sea to be my... neighbourhood. That makes your my new neighbour, everyone wants to know their neighbours right? How can you be friends with them otherwise? Now if you don't mind I have a question for you. What do you intend to do here Joe? Do you plan to stay? Can we all be good neighbours?

Big joe thought on what the man said, "Ay I intend to stay, and I don't plan on eating anyone unless they annoy me if that was what you meant by my intentions, I don't see why we can't be good neighbors, you'll just have ta stop spying on me tho, why don't me and you meet so we can talk about our two little, uh , communities and how they can help one another?"

[Isapito]

"Certainly Joe, I understand your need for privacy. I really think you're going to like it here, I have many fond memories of this place, exploring all its nooks and crannies as a small boy, hunting ducks, fishing. I tell You what Joe why don't you come across the bridge with a few of your people sometime tomorrow, we can eat and talk. Maybe we can work something out that helps all of us"
John wiped his for head as he put the radio down
"well" he said, "that was unusual"
"You really want me to stop having them watched? The other three weren't as stupid"
"Not directly at any rate, ask any traders who happen to pass by if they see anything"
"Found childhood memories my ass" said his old body guard "If my memories serve me correctly you dad murdered your mother was constantly beating the shit out of you just because it was a Tuesday"
"We shouldn't speak too harshly of the dead" replied John fingering the old scars down the left side of his face,
The old body guard gave him a slow look
"You shot him didn't you?"
"ah yes so did"

[Revlona]

---The next day---

Big Joe and 5 of his boys walked across the bridge, not very sure of where exactly he was supposed to go, spied a medium sized community and started to head that way, waiting for the watching humans (he knew the humans where probably watching him) to approach him and his boys.

[Isapito]

As you come across the waiting guards meet you as escort you down the road which passes through the farmland towards the town. As you enter a large crowd begins to form watching you as you from windows, roofs and side streets as you pass through the town's main artery towards a large walled and guarded compound near the far end of the island that still has a few traces of its raider origins. As you enter through the outer walls you see a large house, designed in the colonial style but by the look of it less than a decade old. You are ushered in and brought to a large balcony area overlooking the sea where John awaits alongside a group of high ranking Ramothans and his body guards.
"Welcome, Welcome, please be seated" he says gesturing to a number of oversized chairs, one close to his own and a few more a little down the table.

[Revlona]

Joe and his men took there seats and started looking around the room, Joe looked at John and said, "So, uh, whats this establishment called? and what agreements would you be willing to put up between our two communities?"

[Isapito]

"Firstly I will let it be known that your group is vouchered by me Joe. After all i'm sure you are regularly harassed by overly hasty people who think themselves a hero by attacking you. As far as i'm aware your people are not inclined towards agriculture. If you intend for all what 40 of you people? To remain in the same place you will struggle to do it by hunting alone, consider that you not only must be careful not to deplete the nearby wild life but you must also maintain a regular supply of ammunition, that's no mean feat in these times. Our people can help with both food and a certain types of ammunition, the 0.38 0.308,10mm and shotgun shells can be made in reasonable quantities. We can sell you all these at a reduced price, maybe even a few free batches here and there, and in return you can help defend us from our enemies, right now that's the Sea Gate Crashers. They recently attacked Mr Calum Mason over there a good friend of mine, we defeated and destroyed most of their raiding party but now we must go about the task of eliminating them as a threat in a more permanent manor. Maybe in a few days we could see about a combined assault hmm? But for now you really must try some of this Mirelurk soup.

[G-Tech Corporation]

The Weld Observatory, Northern Manhattan

A faint whiff of tabac smoke came from the holder near Gregor's elbow as he leaned forward in his chair, eyes flickering on occasion from the camp below the frowning tower of the Spire to the ticking timepiece that graced his wrist. Soon, very soon. It was as dark as the depths of the Arch-Fabricant's soul out there beyond the walls of the Weld, the only traces of light the moon winging its way overhead, and the few scattered campfires that the Sons' lookouts had been tracking for a day now.

The caravan was a rare sight here in Manhattan. Most of the larger settlements were down south, near the water, but still, some intrepid souls occasionally came through looking for any scraps of salvage in the buildings that hadn't been burned or blasted to oblivion during the War or the interminable century after it. And Gregor Strumm was not going to let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

One hand clawed for the cigar and he placed it to his lips without thinking, the tabac smoke coursing through his lungs in a febrile puff that was as rich and oily as he could want. In his chair the Arch-Fabricant relaxed a fraction. Markus knew what he was doing, and they were only humans down there, humans so squishy and weak. There was no cause for alarm, not really, but the lord of the Spire was not one to take things for granted. It had been part of his upgrade, in the vanished days when men were men and the world wasn't a blasted hellhole, the energy and drive which mean that Gregor only slept fitfully, a machine powering down for maintenance instead of a man embracing his dreams and slumber.

Winks of light in the darkness- not from the capture party, no, but from the caravan itself. One, two, three. Not many of them had woken up in time to even see they were being attacked then. Good, good. The Arch-Fabricant had been only barely restrained by his guard captain from joining in the raid himself, but there had been reason in Markus' words when he had said that the Spire needed her leader more than it needed some fresh blood. A minute passed or so, and the campfires began to go out. Gregor's breath escaped his body in a gurgling sigh, and with heavy movements he rose from his seat, padding to the reinforced door and airlock that barred the entrance to the rest of the Weld. It was a luxury, this observatory, this greenhouse where his personal projects flourished in the atom-scarred sun. But the Arch-Fabricant was not foolish enough to let his luxuries get in the way of the Sons' security.

Down into the bowels of the immense concrete and steel fortification the immense man passed, Augments nodding in respect as he passed, Drones scuttling aside as they had been trained. The entry level was all but deserted aside from the blank-faced men and women of the guard who barely acknowledged his passing, uniforms crisp and pressed, eyes forward and watching in the gloom with an intensity that was not quite normal. It did not disturb the Arch-Fabricant. Some of them were leftovers of Lazarus' more twisted experiments; the farthest gone had had to be euthanized, but he had saved what he could of the meat and muscle of mankind which the demented Doctor had so thoughtlessly squandered.

He arrived in the entry hall just as the last series of blast doors was closing, automated watcheyes tracking the progress of the capture party and distantly controlled weapons trained on the motley assortment of prisoners that were carried or herded into the echoing chamber by the tall lithe warriors of his command. Many of the prisoners seemed pathetic, their flesh scarred by the radiation that their forefathers had unleashed upon the world. Few of them stood upright, unblemished, and of those who might be useful specimens many had had to be carried on litters, their comparatively muscular frames and well-fed bodies bespeaking their roles as caravan guards. Those bore the marks of the scramblers the soldiers of the Spire favored, and some hummed quietly to themselves while others stared blankly and unseeing upwards. They would recover.

His voice echoed down from the gangway as he addressed the newcomers.

"Brothers, sisters, fear not. You are now home."

Confused faces looked for his voice, and with a well-practiced dramatic flair Gregor calmly leapt from the balcony some three stories above, landing heavily but unharmed on the pavement before the prisoners. Some flinched back at the display, others gazed in disbelief as the immense figure of the Arch-Fabricant unfolded before them. He was tall, as large as a super-mutant almost, but his voice held the reason and smooth tones of mankind that their disease-riddled throats could never utter.

"You have been lost, but now you are found. I am Gregor Strumm, shepherd of the last scions of mankind. Some of you are broken, shattered by the world that we broke together. You will be made whole, made well, and I will teach you of the purpose you have forgotten."

Fear then sparked in many faces, and voices cried out in dismay as the prisoners were herded towards the cargo lifts to carry them deep into the bowels of the Weld, to the ancient Vaults where tanks and machines and nightmares awaited them. Some would emerge refined, the dross burnt away, glaborous and smooth, new inheritors of the birthright of mankind. Some would be broken, unworthy of their ascension, mindless drones that would serve the needs of mankind all the same. Some would perish, for the process was not gentle, but even in death their genetic material would be knowledge, blueprints, potential that the Sons would harvest for refinements of the procedures enacted upon them.

It gave Gregor little joy knowing that the terrified faces of the men and women being taken below might never again see their loved ones or the light of day, that some would die alone and friendless in a place of horror. But sacrifices had to be made for progress, as they had ever been. Especially here, in this burned and scourged purgatory into which mankind had been left to languish.

[Revlona]

"Firstly I will let it be known that your group is vouchered by me Joe. After all i'm sure you are regularly harassed by overly hasty people who think themselves a hero by attacking you. As far as i'm aware your people are not inclined towards agriculture. If you intend for all what 40 of you people? To remain in the same place you will struggle to do it by hunting alone, consider that you not only must be careful not to deplete the nearby wild life but you must also maintain a regular supply of ammunition, that's no mean feat in these times. Our people can help with both food and a certain types of ammunition, the 0.38 0.308,10mm and shotgun shells can be made in reasonable quantities. We can sell you all these at a reduced price, maybe even a few free batches here and there, and in return you can help defend us from our enemies, right now that's the South Gate Crashers. They recently attacked Mr Calum Mason over there a good friend of mine, we defeated and destroyed most of their raiding party but now we must go about the task of eliminating them as a threat in a more permanent manor. Maybe in a few days we could see about a combined assault hmm? But for now you really must try some of this Mirelurk soup.

Joe took this all in silence while drinking/eating the soup, "Your a right, we aren't the ones you would find eating a salad for supper, and hunting for a group of 40 odd giants isn't exactly easy, but our ammunition supply is rather good we use some different types of weapons but a few of us use massive longbows that can send a human flying a dew yards after being hit, though we could use the ammunition for when we eventually run out. Our scouts saw the fight between ya'll and those raiders when they found this place, we are just the forward party, there are another 50 of us coming that I am sure could help our efforts against these raiders"

[Isapito]

"Firstly I will let it be known that your group is vouchered by me Joe. After all i'm sure you are regularly harassed by overly hasty people who think themselves a hero by attacking you. As far as i'm aware your people are not inclined towards agriculture. If you intend for all what 40 of you people? To remain in the same place you will struggle to do it by hunting alone, consider that you not only must be careful not to deplete the nearby wild life but you must also maintain a regular supply of ammunition, that's no mean feat in these times. Our people can help with both food and a certain types of ammunition, the 0.38 0.308,10mm and shotgun shells can be made in reasonable quantities. We can sell you all these at a reduced price, maybe even a few free batches here and there, and in return you can help defend us from our enemies, right now that's the South Gate Crashers. They recently attacked Mr Calum Mason over there a good friend of mine, we defeated and destroyed most of their raiding party but now we must go about the task of eliminating them as a threat in a more permanent manor. Maybe in a few days we could see about a combined assault hmm? But for now you really must try some of this Mirelurk soup.

Joe took this all in silence while drinking/eating the soup, "Your a right, we aren't the ones you would find eating a salad for supper, and hunting for a group of 40 odd giants isn't exactly easy, but our ammunition supply is rather good we use some different types of weapons but a few of us use massive longbows that can send a human flying a dew yards after being hit, though we could use the ammunition for when we eventually run out. Our scouts saw the fight between ya'll and those raiders when they found this place, we are just the forward party, there are another 50 of us coming that I am sure could help our efforts against these raiders"

"Okay not the ammunition then conceded John. But still, you need food, we have a little surplus, I'm sure we could arrange some kind of exchange. But anyway, when we've finished eating maybe I can get you fitted for someone of the armour made from Mirelurk shells that's popular in these parts."

[Revlona]

Joe took this all in silence while drinking/eating the soup, "Your a right, we aren't the ones you would find eating a salad for supper, and hunting for a group of 40 odd giants isn't exactly easy, but our ammunition supply is rather good we use some different types of weapons but a few of us use massive longbows that can send a human flying a dew yards after being hit, though we could use the ammunition for when we eventually run out. Our scouts saw the fight between ya'll and those raiders when they found this place, we are just the forward party, there are another 50 of us coming that I am sure could help our efforts against these raiders"

"Okay not the ammunition then conceded John. But still, you need food, we have a little surplus, I'm sure we could arrange some kind of exchange. But anyway, when we've finished eating maybe I can get you fitted for someone of the armour made from Mirelurk shells that's popular in these parts."

Finishing his soup, Joe stood up, "That was very good, let's go take a look at this armor and your marketplace, me and my boys brought a few valuable items to trade"