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Fallout: South the Mason [IC Thread]

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Parcia
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Democratic Socialists

Postby Parcia » Sat Mar 31, 2018 4:29 pm

From the Fjords of old Norway and Sweden, to the American wasteland and the Emerald Waters of the Gulf Coast, the legends of old Asgard and its gods and goddesses still persist in the decedents of the mother land of Scandinavia.

Among their songs, poems, and epic lays one legend, once that arose out of Sigmer the first, the first great Shamen of the Clan during its days of the voyage across the sea.

/The white Wolf sleeps, in a den of jagged metal and briers.
The child of Midgard, cast in to the Dragon's den.
War shall come to those forged in fire and blood.
When the Wild Hunt begins, the White wolf shall awaken once more.
To reveal in blood of War.


The White Wolf is a common term given to a legendary Warrior of the clan, a prodigal warrior who shall lead the clan on this great crusade...

The land once known as Key west...

Today was a good day.

The fishing boats took well, clearing the shallows ease and heading to to deeper, blue waters to the east. The two scouting sloops had left prior in the week, 6 men each with a heavy machine gun and rifles characteristic of a scouting crew. The rest of the fleet was in preparation. The large black sails of the Thor stood proudly above the rest of the fleet at dock as it lay in moorings.

Today was not boarding training, nor disembarking, rather close combat training, which meant the crewmen, for once, picked up the knives, axes, and rarely, swords of their raiding brothers ans sisters and practice the more...primitive ways of the clan's combat.

Tera was not native to the Clan, having been captured as a bright eyed, knife wielding pre-teen found in the drug den of one of the Cartel's outer outposts. The raid was a small one, two sloops and a brig, her adoptive father taking her in after said pre-teen, through a combination of drug fueled fear and mis-placed anger, subdued and nearly killed one of the youngbloods who had tried to take her as a slave. She still had that knife, a small, simple black folding pocket knife, its plastic grip cracked and stained. It was the only remnant of her past, her only demon she let lay with her.

She sighed and stretched, putting her arms high above her head as she blinked away at the mono-chrome green and black screen of the computer terminal. Electricity was one of the few luxuries the Dock-master's house that allowed her to keep such records. in truth, it was the modification of an old pre-Ragnarok shipping tug hooked up and fuels with spare MF batteries that supplied her room, and her computer and one working desk lamp, with enough power to run it.

The man responsible for this set up, as well as the engine aboard her prized ship, lay naked in bed behind her. The 20 something blond women turned to her lover as he lay there, quietly sleeping the early morning away. The two were an unlikely pair. He was not inclined toward combat, having been native to some far way a nation to the far, far west that had been captured by the Legion some time before they had come across him as an escaped slave.

He had been able to demonstrate his technical prowess by using a modified Pipboy-2500 as a mobile "Hacking tool", a modification to it she did not understood. They had grown closer as he had set up the computer and introduced Tera to its parts and functions. She used it for two things, manly. To keep a detailed record of the inventory manifest and slave count, as well as a list of needed supplies and stored supplies.
Secondly, was a password protected journal of her life up tot that point. The encryption was of her own making, Even Shawn being hard-pressed to break it. The side of effect of their bonding, other then her learning to read and wright in old English as prerequisite, was that the two had grown closer then the Chief had thought.

She was drawn back to the present with the feeling o his hands on her shoulders. "Come one love, its 4 in the morning, you need some sleep." She would normally rebuttal him, but for once, Shawn was right. If her fathers plans on launching a second "Wild Hunt" of the Texan and Alabama Coast was going to succeed, then they would need the captain of the Thor to be well rested.

She reached over to the lamp and turned it off. Groaning, she got up, being lightly pulled over to the small queen bed the two shared by her still naked companion. She wiggled out of her tank top and shorts and practically fell in to bed, slipping under the covers and curling up in a ball. He fallowed suit, wrapping his arm around her and spooning with her. The two drifted off to sleep shortly after.


Economics.

The tribe had few large workshops,but the three dozen or so craftsmen worked diligently, and while they forged many different things, from nails to hinges, most, roughly two thirds, were focused on producing the home made ammo for the various weapons, with special attention being played to 40mm shells and 12.7x99 ammo. The singular dockyard was hard at work the first if the longships, a simpler, older design meant for work in the shallower river the clan would soon trade through.

Diplomacy.

Knowing the wags of old, namely the raiding of coastal settlements, will soon have to change; the Chief orders to things: The sending of an envoy to the northern neighbors to establish a line of contact and open trade as well as hopefully gain official recognition as a formal state and not just a tribe of raiders.

The envoy would be sent in one of the Clans brings, escorted by a pair of sloops to the port of Cape Canaveral.
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Absolon-7
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Father Knows Best State

Part 2 - Chapter 2 - The Valentine's War

Postby Absolon-7 » Sat Mar 31, 2018 5:06 pm

San Antonio City Hall, Early March

Nathaniel Starbuck was busy preparing himself for the celebration the city was holding a grand celebration in the city square. He was mostly still pleased that his meeting with the President of the Commonwealth had gone well, they agreed to a trade deal and and embassy would be established near City Hall, and there were talks that if relations where kept intact a defensive alliance would be proposed. Additionally, the Valentine's War was an astounding success. He was even going to give a speech at the beginning of the party to start off the night. In preparation for the speech he was now spending time reading over the report written by the Colonel of the 4th Battalion, Eugene Armstrong. He knew the major events but keeping a few details in mind wouldn't hurt.

As reported by the spy, San Marcos' main force went over to siege New Braunfels but the 4th Battalion made in time to help the local garrison. After the short skirmish, the San Marcos forces set camp in the ruins of the Gruene Ghost Town. the standoff lasted for a few days while the village of McQueeny surrendered to the Seguin forces. They started to heads towards the town of Morion at night but the 5th Dragoon kept hounding them in circles and harassing their forces to the point of exhaustion. This stalled their forces until the 6th Company arrived to fight them off. Surprisingly, the Baron of Seguin was leading his own forces and seeing that his own force of 67 was completely outnumbered against the 6th Company's 120 he surrendered unconditionally. 5th Squadron took the militia as POWs to Morion while the 6th Company escorted the Baron back to Seguin to occupy the town. The final tally was 0 Casualties for San Antonio and 29 lightly injured for Seguin.

While not a failure, the northern front was a bit more middling. It was a tense but silent standoff for a few days until the first shots were fired on Valentine's Day. The fighting was fierce but only brief as the fortification proved too much for the small militia to take. They retreated back to their camp as some of the defenders followed them for a bit harassing their retreat. Not much activity occurred for the next few days until on the commanding officer ordered and offensive. After organizing their forces until noon, the battalion stormed out into the ghost town meanwhile the dragoon where to circle to the front to catch any routed enemy troops. As the San Marcos forces were unaware of this action, they were caught completely off guard and were forced to retreat to Rapids Road. With now barely any cover the casualties mounted fast for the San Marcos militia. Entrenched in half destroyed buildings the morale of the militia now plummeted to mutinous levels. Allegedly, fights broke out over handing over their commander but the reason for the night-time scuffles remained unconfirmed. By morning the entire force surrendered and as with the Seguin Army, their remaining forces were taken to the nearest town as POWs by the dragoons while the battalion headed to their capital. The final tally was 5 mild injuries and 7 light injuries for San Antonio and 27 deaths, 50 mild injuries, and 13 light injuries for San Marcos.

Their march to San Marcos was unhindered the entire way and upon arrival they split up into platoons along the entrance and repeatably fired at their gate. The platoons alternated for the rest of the day until the townsfolk were intimidated enough to plead their king to surrender. And surrendered he did when a white flag was hoisted on top of the gate. That was when Nathaniel himself came in. The "King" and his family were escorted back to San Antonio to sign the treaty for the annexation of San Marcos and Seguin. Nathaniel felt bad for utterly trounced they were so he made the terms light. First, the entirety of San Marco's territory would be handed over to San Antonio. Second, the king and his family were to be permanent guests in San Antonio and forbidden to return but upon their death they would be buried in San Marcos. Third, the former kingdom would now be its own province and they would have one of their own appointed as governor. Finally, the "kingdom" would provide 62 recruits for the San Antonio Rangers.

Thirty-eight of these recruits would go to the northern 9th Company so it could have a full platoon. In-fact, the twenty-two men from the new northern settlements were almost done with their 10 week training only having two more weeks to go until they became an official company. Four would train to become dragoons in order to replace the ones the 6th Squadron had lost fighting the Lakelurks. Sixteen would join the 5th company to replace their dead from the Nuka-Breaker conflict. The last four would join the Support Corps for whatever roles their skills fit best.

The beginning of this new year was proving itself quite generous to the Despotate thought Starbuck to himself. This brief decisive war had brought over six-thousand new souls to the Despotate and now that their earlier losses were recuperated a new force of rangers could be raised. His Minister of War had done the math and now 21 more rangers could be supported. New recruits were to be accepted immediately and trained alongside the San Marcos recruits. These new positions would go to the 9th company so now they would have a platoon and a third once their training was complete. But none of that mattered right now. Tonight was for feasting and getting black out drunk with his subjects. Once that was over and a new dawn came they would make ready for war.
Last edited by Absolon-7 on Sun Apr 01, 2018 5:45 pm, edited 8 times in total.

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The Manticoran Empire
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Founded: Aug 21, 2015
Anarchy

Postby The Manticoran Empire » Sat Mar 31, 2018 6:38 pm

Puertollano wrote:
The Manticoran Empire wrote:Briana chuckled and said, "I'm sorry but the Mayor is in a meeting and the President is in Nashville. You're gonna be waiting awhile, mister. We've got a lounge over there," she pointed to a large room on the right. "Make yourselves at home. I'll let you know when the Mayor is available."


They were not amused as much as Briana, but alas, they decided to wait. Taking a seat.

Mayor Christopher Street stepped out of his office and walked to the front desk. "Briana, you said there were men interested in seeing me?" Briana smiled and said, "Yes sir. They are in the lounge right now." Chris thanked her and walked to the lounge. "Representatives, I'm sorry to keep you waiting. I have been on the phone with Nashville all day. Quite busy these days. What can I do for you?"
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The Traansval
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Left-wing Utopia

Postby The Traansval » Sat Mar 31, 2018 8:38 pm

The Tophat Empire wrote:-snip-


Wellingtonne

General Hamish smiled up at the Elector. He slid the brown gloves off his hand, and took the saddle pomel in his hand. His foot firm in one of the stirrups, he catapulted himself up into the saddle. He'd spent his early military career as a Runner, and was an accomplished rider. He extended one hand in front of him.

"Lead the way your Honor"


Great Dismal Swamp
Image


As Jacob Malcom wadded through the thick marshes of the Great Dismal Swamp, muck and gunk up to his thighs and his heavy pack on his back, he couldn't help but wonder at how his life had turned in such a direction. It had all seemed so grand, signing up. The Bounty was too good to pass up, and now here Malcom was, risking his life for a country he wasn't a citizen of, in a swamp of hell.

He had to hand it to those pre-war folks, they sure knew how to give a swamp a accurate name.

They'd been sent into this hellhole because they didn't want to waste any good Norfolk lives. There was a tribe here, called the Swampfoxes, that had been raiding Norfolk caravans ever since Suffolk had been annexed. Norfolk wanted them rooted out, and had sent in the new Foreign legion to do it. The Cavalry was forced to dismount in this terrain, joining the Infantry on the line.

They'd been pushing forward slowly for a while now, driving deeper and deeper in, one inch at a time. All leading up to this point.

They'd dug a haste trench, set up the few machine guns they had and the two mortars they had managed to steal from supply. Across the forest was their camp, and so far they were none the wiser. It was still pitch black, they'd set their hasty line up around midnight and now it was nearly four in the morning. Soon they'd be waking up to begin their cycle of farming. Only they didn't realize a Legion of men was soon to attack.

Captain George Homewell, commander for the 1st Sub-legion, Infantry Contingent, looked through his binoculars. He was James's commanding officer, and was a hell of a man. Drummed out of the army on a administrative discharge for sleeping with a Colonels daughter and insubordination, he'd managed to convince his way into a Commission with the Legion. Now, Service Revolver in hand, he sat stone still waiting for the signal.

A sharp crack echoed over the silence, followed by a whistling sound, and finally a bright red light. The signal to attack.

Homewell raised his pistol in the air, and blew hard on his whistle. The rest of the Legion went over the small bit of earthworks as the two mortars fired what shells they had and the machine guns began their chatter. The camp had been surrounded on three side, with the Cavalry maneuvering to cut off any people retreating from the fourth side. No one was to escape this time, Norfolk was going to pin down this tribe once and for all.

The jungle was thick, and many a Legionary found themselves tripping over roots. But the foliage also provided cover and concealment. At first the Swampfox's didn't understand what was going on. The red light was disorientating, drowning out the white light of the full moon above. Then, they came. In their dark blue tunics and brighter blue pantaloons, the Foreign Legion came out of the woodworks, and came down upon the Village.

Malcom was the platoon marksmen, he'd managed to get his family Hunting Rifle approved for service, and even managed to win a scope in a poker game with the supply boys. Now he was down, prone in the thick jungle just on the fringe of the village. His comrades were storming past him, firing on the enemy fighters as they came out of their tents or huts. The sound of thundering hooves signalled the entrance of the newly mounted Cavalry, cutting off the retreat of any Swampfox's.

Within an hour the tribe was conquered. Its fighters lay dead, and those who had not taken up arms were being brought to a temporary holding area. They were herded, like brahmin, into the most ironic spot possible; the Village brahmin coral. They were brought over to a small barn like building, except half of it was open aired so as to allow the Brahmin to enter and feed. They were lined up, and so too did the soldiers.

Then came Colonel Michael Alexander, commander of the Legion. His service revolver in hand, he walked to the line. Malcom was at its right end, having no longer needed his position for sniping. Three platoon were lined up in front of the Swampfoxes, a show of force Malcom thought, to drive home the idea that they were defeated. The words that came out of the Colonels mouth, would haunt Malcom for the rest of his days.

"PRESENT! ARMS!"

Malcom looked confused, as did the rest of the Legionaries. This was their first campaign, most were as green as the grass under them.

"DID I STUTTER?!? PRESENT! ARMS!"

The Colonel looked livid, his revolver in his hands now. The Legion slowly did as he ordered, shouldering their rifles.

"FIRE!"

Now the men looked terrified. Fire? On Civilians? They looked around, some brought their rifles down in protest. The swampfoxes just looked on, some terrified while some not understanding, none of them spoke English. Hell, Swampfoxes was just the name some Norfolk officer gave them, who knew their real name.

The hooves again, the Cavalry Troop trotted up to them, their weapons drawn. The Colonel really was livid now.

"EITHER YOU SHOOT, OR I'LL HAVE THE CAVALRY HERE SHOOT YOU AND THEN THOSE DEGENERATES! NOW, SHOULDER YOUR FIREARMS!"

The men once again prepared their weapons, some with looks of terror on their faces as they formed their firing lines. A couple hundred tribal civilians stood there, now suddenly understanding what was about to happen. Children cried while their parents screamed in a foreign tongue, begging for mercy. The Colonel aimed his revolver at one of them, his lips once more spewing a set of letters that would form a sentence.

"FIRE!"

Blasts echoed from each rifle, submachine gun and shotgun of the platoons. The other infantrymen not involved, stared at their compatriots on the line. Tribals began dropping like flies, and the bullets didn't let up. It only lasted five minutes, Malcom thought, but it felt like a lifetime. When the shooting was done, the bodies were in a messy pile, some seeming to radiate out as the people had attempted to escape.

Malcom dropped his rifle, fell to his knees and lurched forward, spewing his guts onto the soft, gritty dirt below him. Many others followed his example, or just simply stared at what they'd done. Tears ran down Malcoms face as he emptied his stomach contents, great heaving sobs racked his body in between the chunks flying from his mouth. The Colonel stomped over to him, grabbed him by his lapels and slapped him. He brought him up, Malcom lunching to his feet, and brought him to eye level.

"Welcome to the Legion son"

Moyock

Lance Corporal Rickman, newly promote from his "Service" in Hickory, was now once again apart of a Garrison force. Now, they'd annexed Moyock. It had been the same deal as Hickory; the Regiment rolled in, and townfolks got scared, the mayor would come out and negotiate and then the town would be peacefully annexed. It was honestly getting boring, and Rickman was antsy. He wanted to see service, just like his pa had and his pa before him. He wanted to serve Norfolk, but it seemed all he'd get to do was sit in a barracks, hopping from city to city as the Generals did all the work.

Still, Rickman would have to admit. Sitting on his ass in a barracks had its perks, including the local whores.

South Mills

Third Infantry, the "Screaming Eagles", were certainly living up to their reputation.

South Mills was a trading town, more a village really. It consisted entirely of a old motel with a couple dozen houses around it and a large marketplace built in a old gas station. It was small, but it was a important local trade hub. And, it would prove to be a important staging point for Elizabeth City.

The Third had come upon the town just hours after Moyock had been annexed. To their flank, the Legion was still mopping up those Swampfox's, word is they had them pinned in their camp, but confirmation wouldn't come for another hour or two.

Didn't matter anyway, the Third was more concerned with other matters. Like storming the city.

The fools had dismissed the offer of Annexation, so they had to do it the hard way. Mortars had bombarded the small settlement, and then the Eagles went in. The city had little fortifications, like a single guard tower for protection which had been taken down early by the mortars. The ad hoc defense force of Militia, Armed Citizens and Mercenaries was defeated by sunset, and a Proclimation of Annexation was read to the surviving citizens. The Regiment had lost eight men in the fighting, but had gained so much more...

Drum Hill

Bang!

The last of the Drum raiders fell to the ground, lifeless as evidenced by the small neat hole in the back of his skull; and the massive gaping one in the front.

Sergeant Chest slung his rifle on his shoulder, looking down in disgust at the raider who now lay dead before him. He, like so many of his raider compatriots, wore barely any clothes, just some weird mix of leather straps and bits of metal stuff. He was also as high as a kite, the Sergeant could count five different chems on his person, and who knew how many more were already in his blood stream. No, he felt no mercy for this man, only contempt. These raiders represented everything wrong with the wasteland, everything that Norfolk stood against. This was why they fought, Chest now thought, to bring order to a wasteland dominated by these... Degenerates.

The fighting had been fierce and up hill, all in all Chest could count twenty or so Norfolk bodies litering that hill. Friends, comrades and superiors. Men who the Sergeant knew, men the Sergeant had talked with and drunk with. All dead, at the hands of these monsters.

Chest gave the head of the body a mighty kick, further collapsing the dead mans skull, before walking away to rejoin his Platoon.

Norfolk

Chairman Hayes, leader of the Joint Chiefs, stood before a crowd of thousands of citizens in the great Hall of Virginia. Built by his predecessor, it served as a good place to hold speeches or press conferences. His hands gripped the wood of the podium, where multiple different microphones for all the different radio stations were. He cleared his throat, and the crowd in front of him hushed.

"My Fellow Citizens, lend my your ears. I am proud today, to announce Project Rebirth. For that is what we are; a Rebirth. Decades ago, the former United States died in a blazing fireball of Atomic Warfare. Now we must rebuild, we must bring back those old world values and ideas. But, in order to rebuild America, we must rebuild ourselves. Project Rebirth will be a project to rebuild our Infrastructure; we will build Schools, Roads, Marketsquares, Parks, Workshops, and Dockyards."

Chairman Hayes took a sip from a glass of water on the podium.

"We will rebuild ourselves to be a major player on the world stage, and we will liberate our brothers in the Wasteland from the oppresiveness of their primitive governments. We are not just Citizens of Norfolk; we are VIRGINIANS! We owe it to our Virginian brothers of the wastes to Liberate them! As such, i am pleased to announce that no longer shall we be the State of Norfolk; from this moment on, we shall be the State of Virginia!"

The crowd roared with excitement, clapping and hollering could be heard from every stand. Finally, Norfolk could reclaim its birthright, and become the center for Virginia. To unite Virginia was the dream of Norfolk, and now it could very well become a reality.
Last edited by The Traansval on Sat Mar 31, 2018 8:41 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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The Manticoran Empire
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Anarchy

Postby The Manticoran Empire » Sat Mar 31, 2018 9:41 pm

Nashville
Republic of Tennessee

The success of the war against the Imperial Republic and the seizure of Fort Campbell had shown the Republic that Kentucky was a prime candidate for annexation. They had encountered little resistance outside of Murray and Mayfield. Most settlements appeared to be rather open to a strong, democratic, and stable overlord, particularly once they were told to elect a representative to be their voice in the Congress. Not all of the new counties had completed that process, of course. The counties had much to discuss amongst themselves, after-all. However, in Nashville, the drums of conquest were beating. They wanted the rest of Kentucky and were determined to get it. The new army was mostly constituted and most of its troops were in the South near Birmingham and Memphis. Eight Regiments were not involved in punitive expeditions against raiders and five were in Western Kentucky, integrating the people and securing their settlements from raiders, ghouls, mutants, and other dangers. This left three Regiments for the rest of Kentucky, a daunting task. It was decided that the force would be divided, with one Regiment marching for Hopkinsville, one for Bowling Green, and one for Glasgow. Their orders were made abundantly clear. They were not at war. They were to annex each settlement peacefully. They were NOT to burn, pillage, and loot. This struggle would be won not through violence and destruction but through dialogue. Of course, if dialogue did not work and the settlement decided to fire on the soldiers, then they could defend themselves. Raiders, ghouls, mutants, and beasts were not granted the same protections. They were to be killed on sight.

The Fourth Regiment would march for Bowling Green, a journey that would require about three days to complete under normal circumstances. However, because they would be stopping at every settlement along their route, it would take several weeks to reach.

The Thirteenth Regiment would march on Hopkinsville, a journey that would normally be completed in 3 or 4 days but would also require several weeks to reach.

Finally, the Sixth Regiment would march on Glasgow.

The regiments were assembled by the end of the week and set out to their destinations. Plans were made for regiments to be drawn from Western Kentucky to assist in their campaigns.
Last edited by The Manticoran Empire on Sat Mar 31, 2018 9:47 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Parcia
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Founded: Feb 11, 2016
Democratic Socialists

Postby Parcia » Sat Mar 31, 2018 11:06 pm

The Wild Hunt.


The news of Uraks decision to make this upcoming raid the last hit many of the tribe hard. Many had scene it as the end of their way of life, many saw it as the end of the old traditions that had guided their people for 200 years and untold centuries before the fall.

Tera knew why though. As she helmed the Thor through the docks towards the gathering fleet, she summed it up in her head. Times were changing. The Clan could not freely raid and take as they needed, not with the rise of the larger powers of the South being as armed and built as they were. THat was the reason her father had made to the north, that was the reason why her father had given the blessing to Shawn's idea of building a colony, no, a full fledged city on the old Key to the west.

This was why her father had made the plan to sail up the old Potomec and raid the weak city state that their scouts had mapped out months before. They seemed to be mostly traders and workmen, pushing some vile substance that had infected her mind and sullied that of her brothers when they came upon the substance after bartering for it on that same recon mission.

Leaving none of the ships at home, save some small, armed fishing boats, the fleet would sail north, stop at the commonwealth city of Jacksonville for some trade, mostly offloading the pounds upon pounds of radshark meat and hide they had on hand, use the money to stock up on extra munitions and supplies, then sail north with the envoy fleet from earlier. Their ultimate target lay just north of the land of Norfolk. Along with the multiple light mortars and machine guns, the twin cannon of the Thor and its two, larger mortars, and nearly 400 raiders. There were actually more then planned, leading to a good portion of the guard having to arm them with rifles, shotguns, and the few remaining LMGs (Think Older M1919s) the Clan held.

While they had few concerns about the Homeland being attacked, they knew full well that the public image of the clan would likely be blemished After this raid, this "Wild Hunt". The hope was that the goods and treasure, as well as the reputation of their fighting prowess, would allow them to remain unscathed. If not, then they would always relocate and fortify for the second Ragnarok.

And so, with the man she called father standing behind her, and the man she loved standing next to her, the Thor made for deeper waters, fleet in toe.
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Dragos Bee
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Founded: Jul 17, 2017
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Dragos Bee » Sat Mar 31, 2018 11:28 pm

Nathaniel Green and his Companions

As Nathaniel Green was walking home from his job in the Steel Mill, Sedna in tow, he would see a young man, alone, clad in a toga like those worn by the sons of the senatorial class. This young man, barely sixteen, would look at him, saying: "I seem to have lost my bodyguards, how about that?Can you take their place for a while as I walk the streets of our fair city?"

A guileless smile at that, but there was an edge to the tone, an emphasis that said that it would be bad news for Nathaniel to reject the offer. "Sure," the covert NCR Agent said, "What is your name?"

The boy replied, his blond hair and blue eyes shining, "Marcus, Marcus Antonius."

Edit:

Marcus took his new 'bodyguard' to a respectable eatery; not so high-class that Nathaniel felt out of place, but not so 'slummy' that the Senator's Son was the one that stuck out like a sore thumb instead. Said eatery had a second floor and a table with two seats in the corner. Once the two were seated and a rich meat stew had been served on the table, Marc would then say to Nathaniel, "This place knows how to be discreet; usually, it is because this is a place for discreet assignations between barely legal young men and their lovers of either gender...but greater business can also be discussed."

Nathaniel was surprised but carefully hid it by playing as dumb as possible. "And what does a young man of your exalted status want with a mere steel mill worker?"

In response, Marcus Antonius drew from his toga's pockets a copy of a receipt, a receipt for a large, poster-sized piece of cheap paper and accompanying writing materials. Curtly, he responded, "You know what this is, right, 'mere steel mill worker'?"

Nathaniel nodded. "Proof that I riled up the city." He then took a discreet glance around, "I presume that the fact that I am in an eatery rather than in prison or dead means you require something of me?"

A nod, as Marcus looked around as well. "My father is one of the 'Eastwards Faction', the ones who believe we should focus on the nations farther to our east. He's gained an ascendancy thanks to you, but the Legion's agents have already conducted a diplomatic offensive; they're saying that the Twisted Hairs are mere tribals who would not be treated the same way as a full-fledged city, while the full-fledged city they did sack - Amarillo - was a den of sin and villainy and deserved to be purged." The boy frowned. "You are an enemy of the Legion, one with a vendetta against them. Yet you are more used to telling the truth than lying and using the aforementioned truth to achieve more effect than a thousand lies. So I want to know this; what do you know about the Legion to make you hate them so?"

Nathaniel took some stew, before saying, "I spent time in their territory. Before that, I was raised in a place further west, a place of civilization and education and the rule of law and popular consent. I spent time learning the Legion's ways, and I have testimony as to what outlandish delusions Caesar repeats to his followers; testimony I can repeat verbatim."

The young man, only three years younger, said, "Continue; my agents - or rather, my father's agents - have made sure the area is clear. What does Caesar says to his followers? I heard stuff about him saying he's a god."

Nathaniel would nod, and said, "Well, he describes himself as the 'Son of Mars'; the literal Son of Mars. Caesar says this to all the tribals he encounters, forcing them to worship him and forsake their Old Gods. Educated folk are held in suspicion as a result, as they can undermine these lies by revealing the truth. Because of this, sometimes they are executed; I can even narrate you a case where an old Catholic Priest in an old town with an intact school library was crucified and his village slaughtered..."

Edit 2: Once the older man had finished, Marcus Antonius would say, "Well, that's a fine story; not helped by the fact that you only have your own testimony as proof. But as you were right about the Twisted Hairs, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt." A purse of the lips, "Nevertheless, I believe that the Legion is dangerous, very dangerous. Even if they have only the best of intentions, which I doubt, their power competes with Augustum's. It is too bad that the Senate will not tolerate another public tract; they deserve to know what you've said."

This sparked an idea in Nathaniel's head. "What about a private pamphlet or circular? Something that is only distributed to the Senate and High-Ranking Military Leaders?"

"That's perfect!" Marcus couldn't help but exclaim in joy. "That'd be great, but please give me the honor of setting down your words; I want a turn as 'Tacitus Secundus'. You keep working in the Steel Mill for another week or so; then I'll hire you as my bodyguard for real. How's 500 denarii per two weeks sound?"

Nathaniel offered his hand to shake in response, saying, "Deal."

Edit 3:

One Week Later

Various Senators and Military Commanders would receive a small pamphlet titled: On the Ideology of Caesar of Caesar's Legion, by Tacitus Secundus. This would contain the sordid details of Caesar's posing as the Son of Mars, the God of War, and eliminating those who contradicted his story. It also outlined how Augustum, being in possession of the knowledge of the past, was a potential threat to Caesar's hold on his Legions, who were still tribal in their mindset. Said pamphlet was written in better-quality paper and had a different handwriting, but the tone and style of the words was the same as 'On the Betrayal of the Twisted Hairs'. This hinted that 'Tacitus Secundus' was getting friends in higher places...
Last edited by Dragos Bee on Sun Apr 01, 2018 12:52 am, edited 7 times in total.
Goodbye, PT2M. Sorry for my behavior.

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The Tophat Empire
Senator
 
Posts: 4825
Founded: Sep 26, 2014
Ex-Nation

Postby The Tophat Empire » Sun Apr 01, 2018 7:38 am

The Traansval wrote:
The Tophat Empire wrote:-snip-


Wellingtonne

General Hamish smiled up at the Elector. He slid the brown gloves off his hand, and took the saddle pomel in his hand. His foot firm in one of the stirrups, he catapulted himself up into the saddle. He'd spent his early military career as a Runner, and was an accomplished rider. He extended one hand in front of him.

"Lead the way your Honor"



The Tophat Empire
Wellingtonne
Harbour







"Try to keep up general, it would be a shame if had to send the dragoons to find you because you got lost. Don't worry about your men, they will have lodging among our own troops, if they so wish" the elector said laughingly before setting off on her horse again, she spurred it on fast, but not as blistering fast as she had arrived, for a accomplished rider like the general, it would not be hard to keep up, another matter would be for a less skilled rider. They rode for a few minutes, along the roads of the restored city. For that it was, restored and newly built buildings, storefronts, workshops, fisheries and everything else that one might expect to find. Bet before long they came to a halt in front of a restored old world [url?https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/9/97/City_Hall-Thalian_Hall_%28Wilmington%2C_NC%29_2.JPG]building[/url]. The white paint shone ever so slightly, and it was apparent that it had been restored, and was maintained well.

On the steps stood guards, long rifle slung on the shoulders. Clad in the same style of coat as the soldiers, but in the bight red hue that the Imperial Police carried. The black brassard clued the General on what they where, as it stated "Imperial Police" and below that "Grenadier Guard". On their heads police helmets from the old world rested, black with a silver emblem on the front of the forehead. As the two horse riders came to a halt, one of the guards walked up to them, and saluted the Elector. The Elector returned the salute before dismounting, giving the guard the reigns to the horse. She looked at the general and spoke "We have returned General, Welcome to my workplace, and the home of me and my husband, The Town Hall of Wellingtonne. Follow me" she said in the same bubbly tone that she had used towards him before.

Walking up the stairs and into the building she manoverd up another set of stairs, past offices and government officials, most in one kind of suit of suit made in a pre-war fashion or another. down a corridor of offices she walked, before reaching a large double door, guarded by two of these Grenadier Guardsmen. When they saw the Elector they snapped to a salute and opened the door, greeting her with a "Welcome Home Elector" and greeting the general with "Welcome to Wellingtonne, General"

Inside the apparent apartment inside this governmental building the elector removed her coat, and her tall riding boots. Underneath her coat she wore a white formfitting shirt, and around her throat a regal blue sat, secured by a metal pin to her shirt. She walked down the corridor and turned off into a room on the right, disappearing out of sight for the general for just a moment. Before speaking her head out of the doorway again, smiling and said "By all means, follow me"




The Tophat Empire
Wellingtonne
Harbour







As the two riders took off, the officer looked towards the rest of the guests. "You heard the Elector, those of you from your crew that so wish are welcome ashore to share our homes and fellow soldiers, if you need supplies, they can be arranged against fair compensation. Should you want to dock your ship, you are welcome to do so at this pier, I'll have a runner arrange with the port authority." He looked agaisnt the men for a moment, before finishing with "Any questions? and again, welcome to the Tophat Empire"


FT, but roam where i please
It does not reflect my real life world political views, which are considerably less authoritarian and more moderate
Refer to my factbook for canon, it´s however out of date, and badly written. So take it with a grain of salt

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Ralnis
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Founded: Aug 06, 2012
Father Knows Best State

Postby Ralnis » Sun Apr 01, 2018 9:54 am

Point Pleasant Shipyard

The sounds of steel being wielded and equipment being carted by horses. The skeleton of an ironclad was being held by the dry dock as they were making the largest ship the Cult had for their navy, the MHS Holy Atlas. It was only commissioned months ago and have became a taxing job, but one that had brought a large amount of jobs to Point Pleasant. The steam engine alone was still being manufactured with a delicate touch, making it very, very expensive. However this was the first steam-powered post-war ship and all hopes for future steam vessels were riding on this.

There was also trade ships going along the Ohio River, carrying news and goods across the Cult lands to the tribal lands of Kentucky. At one point, the trade was enough to fuel the external economic sphere but that was before the factories. There was word of a nation in Missouri, one based on Roman culture. It was strange that people would based themselves off of an ancient Empire not of American design, yet they had the Commies in their south and that was something the West Virginians couldn't stand. Not only that they forbid the glories of the Mothman, but any Cult for that matter.

Still, a lone trade ship, the Silver Lantern, was already out from the capital to a town known as Old Shawneetown, some kind of river port but one that is on the Ohio River that can be easily reached. The crew prayed to the Mothman figurehead on the front of their ship, to bring about protection and blessing along the River's waves and that no on-shore raids happen. They seek exploration and riches, but may never return if things go wrong.

Grayson, Kentucky

Going into Kentucky was easier than most. The Appalachian Wasteland extended into the Cumberland Plateau and the Cult wanted to take over this area to make themselves more entrenched in defending the area from hostile tribal incursions. Scouts were deployed to get a good scope for Kentucky. From the former farmlands of Rush, to the heavily forested and mountainous region of Grayson, it was good to know that the state had its fair share of tribals on horseback, and raiders with horses or Ghouls that were just trying to make a living.

The Cult decided to send in a detachment of the Holy Guard, around 400, were sent in to establish themselves in Kentucky by going to Grayson, the job was to cleanse the area between there and Cult lands of raiders, help tribals and friendly mutants in hopes of promoting Cultist rule while also getting information of what the whole of Kentucky is doing.

Having these goals in mind, troops were being deployed with the banner of the Moth and the prayers of Holy Sermons on the horizon.


Elerian wrote:
* * *

A Rude Welcome


The Appalachian region was a queer place, home to even queerer people. A man of the Commonwealth, a place far to the South, had come to this place seeking its people. There were tales even as far as the Gulf of men who worshipped Moths and other idols. They were rumors, but the more that the man saw of the place, the more he believed them. He’d travelled hundreds of miles to this god forsaken land on behalf of the Commonwealth. He had hoped it would be worthwhile, but shortly after he crossed into the lands that were purported to be inhabited by the Moth people he’d been kidnapped.

It had happened so quickly he’d scarcely been able to defend himself. A handful of men had thrown a sack over his head and restrained his hands. He was carried a short ways and deposited in a cell. After a time he was taken from the cell and placed in a wooden chair. In what might have been a scene from an old Bond film, he found himself in a small grey room with only a table and two chairs.


It took a couple minutes before the reinforce steel door brought in two people, a Ghoul and a human, in identical uniforms and sidearms as they sat down and looked at the man with the same look. They just starred him down and the Ghoul talked in the identical Appalachian accent, albeit raspy like all Ghoul talk.

" So Commie, lets just get this over with. Name, rank, and number. Whatever shit you want to say before we interrogate you. Since ya'll people like to think make this difficult for us then You have about 10 seconds before we give ya customary 10mm round and leave you for the Yao Quai. So Commie, say ya piece."
Last edited by Ralnis on Mon Apr 02, 2018 6:52 am, edited 3 times in total.

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The Manticoran Empire
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Founded: Aug 21, 2015
Anarchy

Postby The Manticoran Empire » Sun Apr 01, 2018 10:50 am

Pembroke
Kentucky


The Thirteenth had been roaming for almost two weeks now and had brought several settlements under their control. St. Elmo had gone first, followed by Pembroke, then Trenton. They then marched to Hadensville before heading north through Tiny Town to Elkton. They had then marched part of their force back to Pembroke, since the town had requested that Colonel Robert Scott come to speak with their elders regarding a variety of issues. Scott brought with him the Grenadiers, the Heavy Weapons Company, and the First Company. The remaining companies marched out to other settlements. First they secured Russelville. Then the Fifth marched southwest, securing Olmstead and Allensville. The Third marched north, taking Lewisburg and Wolf Lick. The Second marched Northwest, taking Gordonsville, Sharon Grove, and Allegre. The Fourth Company marched South, taking Adairville. The settlements themselves went peacefully. They did, however, require the soldiers to deal with a number of issues for them. Raider bands that robbed them blind, ghouls that continuously harrassed them as they attempted to trade, muties that caused endless issues, et cetera. These campaigns were taking their tolls. First Company had lost fifteen men killed or wounded during the campaign. Second had lost twelve men, Third had lost eighteen, Fourth had lost ten, and Fifth had lost twenty. All told, 75 men were casualties. 30 had been killed and 45 more were wounded. Casualties would mount when they went for Hopkinsville.

Colonel Scott arrived in Pembroke, where he was greeted by the town militia. "Welcome back, Colonel," one of the men said, "The elders are waiting for you in the Town Hall." Scott followed the men to the town hall, where the elders were seated around a table. "Colonel Scott," one of them, Elder Anthony, said, cheerfully as he walked over and shook his hand. "You know Elders Gary, Curtis, Samuel, and Benjamin, of course."
"Yes, I do. It is a pleasure to see you all again. Now, if you will forgive my bluntness, I must ask what issues and items you have that you wish to discuss with me." Elder Anthony chuckled and looked at the other elders, "Always to business, this one is. No wonder they made you a colonel. He he." He stopped laughing and motioned for Scott to sit before taking his own seat. "Colonel, we don't have any issues ourselves, per se. However, we would like clarifications on our responsibilities within your Republic."
"Well, Elder Anthony, it is quite simple. You pay taxes, elect a Delegate to represent you County in the Congress, and agree to allow the Army and Navy to recruit from here. In exchange, the Republic will defend you from attack, invest in building up your settlement, and reconstruct the roads around it, enabling trade to flow faster and with fewer complications. Does that answer that for you?"
"Yes, Colonel. It at least clears up a few things for us. Now, Colonel, I have noticed the dirt and grime on your soldiers. You must be tired. You are welcome to rest here, if you so choose."
"Thank you, kindly, Elder Anthony. If you will excuse me, I will now see to my men."

Three miles from Bowling Green
The Fourth Regiment had gathered once again after two weeks of campaigning around the area. They had taken the settlements of Franklin, Prices Mill, Auburn, South Union, Salmons, Woodburn, and Rockfield. Not as much progress has had been reported by the Thirteenth to their west, but still a decent amount. Their next set of targets lay to the east, which they would take in the next few weeks. After that, they would finally march on Bowling Green. The last two weeks had killed or wounded 80 men.

Scottsville
Kentucky

The Sixth Regiment had made a base in Scottsville, dispatching their five companies to secure other settlements between them and Glasgow. They had secured Yesse, Settle, Martinsville, Meador, Holland, Fountain Run, Tracy, Austin, Lucas, Haywood, Hydro, Dry Fork, Etoile, Lamb, Flippin, Mud Lick, Mt. Hermon, and Temple Hill. They had suffered 130 killed and wounded and knew full well that their struggle was far from over.

Paducah
Republic of Tennessee

Colonel Douglas, now promoted to Brigadier General, was asked to give up three of his regiments for Eastern Kentucky. He saw no issue in doing so. Most of the area was pacified. The settlements had yet to show any interest in resistance and what ghouls, raiders, and mutants were left could be dealt with by two regiments. He kept the First Regiment and the Fourteenth, sending the Fifth, Tenth, and Twelfth regiments East. These regiments would move along the northern edge of Kentucky, securing Owensville, Madisonville, and Central City before moving on with the Fourth, Thirteenth, and Sixth to Elizabeth Town. The campaign would be long and casualties were expected.
Last edited by The Manticoran Empire on Sun Apr 01, 2018 12:55 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Zelent
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Posts: 1986
Founded: Mar 22, 2015
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Zelent » Sun Apr 01, 2018 1:15 pm

The Presidency
On a warm, sunny day, Maddox held a secretarial meeting with his various staff and executives. President Maddox collected his notes after the last agency head had left, and walked out of the long room through the side door, walking through the Presidency to the upstairs office, his personal command center. Upon getting there he bursted open the binder and started laying papers out on the table. Spreadsheets containing information on everything related to the East Texan Trading Federation's council elections. There was of course, massive political elements under this. The Commonwealth by now had spent nearly 350,000 Texan Coppers, (exchange rate of 2 caps) on the ETTF election alone. With East Texas "controlling" a triangular sphere around Tyler, Longview, rounding around Nagodoches and Lufkin. With some 35,000 citizens living in this region under the loose control of a Merchant Republic government based in Tyler. This was where the NCT comes in. The ETTF couldn't really be considered a proper country. The individual towns and cities providing delegates to the ruling body, the High Council, which met and conducted certain policy measures, but other than that the towns and cities were completely autonomous of eachother with the exception of Tyler, which could be considered ETTF territory, making their own laws and political decisions. This, coupled with the ETTF's inability to effectively combat bandits making cross-border attacks from Louisiana, the small gangs formed on the northern outskirts of Dallas and the Raider King who had taken over Texarkana, this all was making the trade-routes volatile in nature. The ETTF, in addition to its town's autonomous militias which were uninterested in major military operations, had the Company of Commerce, a 100 man mercenary force, which seemed spread thin and unable to effectively combat the raider armies, being armed with single shot shotguns and hunting rifles. This is where NCT comes in, the NCT was supporting pro-annexation candidates across the land, who campaigned on the promise that the NCT would restore peace to the region, and official NCT promises included funds for the rebuilding of railroads and connection to Gulf Trade routes, as well as promises to invest up to 3 million Texan coppers in the next 12 years in grants to farmers to modernize their irrigation systems.

These political views were popular in the territory, in one case the mayor of the small town of Rusk was said to have had a Commonwealth banner drawn across the front of the town hall, meanwhile in Tyler, certain clans loyal to the status quo threatened to shut down the elections on the day that ballots were cast. With a couple weeks until the elecion, President Maddox decided he had to do something more to ensure more than just a favorable vote. He signed a spending measure authorizing another 40,000 coppers to be spent on the election, things were done such as hiring security guards at pro-annexation precincts, while in other areas large boards supporting annexationist were constructed overlooking high-traffic areas, with slogans such as "David Hayes - A Safe East Texas, Together With NCT." or "National Commonwealth of Texas - Invested In OUR Success." Other funds were devoted to giving various candidates air-time on radio and such.

Bunker South of Bay City
Finally, after some weeks of siege, events began to unfold. It was determined that all vents and excape hatches had been found, so after some time two more contingents arrived. A couple welders were contracted to come in and weld the escape hatches shut, and weld shut all but one of the air vents. Meanwhile, three assaultrons arrived from the Robotics Corps depot in Galveston, where they stood guard together with the troops assigned to the front entrance, and in addition was a clandestine operations group from the Government, The Office of Chemical Research, a subsidiary of the Agency of Scientific Studies, had dispatched a team of chemists to the location, where they proceeded to hermetically seal the vents, and after a final warning to surrender went unheeded, the chemists began pumping in a clear, yellowish gas into the vents. Now, the Texan army waited.
Last edited by Zelent on Sun Apr 01, 2018 2:04 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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The Traansval
Powerbroker
 
Posts: 9269
Founded: Jun 26, 2016
Left-wing Utopia

Postby The Traansval » Sun Apr 01, 2018 1:33 pm

The Tophat Empire wrote:-snip-


Wellingtonne

General Hamish smiled, "Of course".

He strode into the room and sat down on one of the couches set against the wall.

"I do not mean to be hasty of rush you Madame, but our voyage is not to take too long. For we must not leave our beloved Norfolk undefended for long. I'd request that the Emperor or his Representative be ready to travel by Weeks end, if it please his Majesty." He said, smiling a somewhat restrained smile.

Down at the docks, Captain Joyce looked at the Tophat soldier addressing her. She coughed to clear her throat;

"My men will be stay on the ships, their quarters are designed to hold the crew for extended periods of time. However, i will send some men ashore to purchase supplies. We've been allowed a stipend of Virginian Pounds for purchasing supplies, could you point me to the nearest Bank or Merchant where we can exchange them for your local currency?"

Sunbury

Private Malcom. That was his name now.

After the massacre of the Swampfoxes, Malcom and the rest of the Legion were officially members of the Norfolk Military. Assigned a rank, a number and a Bounty for their service. Malcom sent most of his bounty home. He didn't like the money, it felt like Bloody Money. Money to compensate for their acts. They were the ones who'd get the jobs no one else wanted, which means they were either Grueling tasks, or Immoral tasks. Many had, like Malcom, found ways to cope. They just followed orders, not thinking about it anymore.

Sunbury was a nice change of pace; the town had surrendered peacefully, having accepted the terms of Annexation. The mayor, some fat lardass who also happened to own some of the towns wealthiest businesses, was appointed Military Governor of Sunbury. The Legion had been allowed a three day leave, and many spent it with the whores and bars of Sunbury.

Malcom was sitting in a local diner, looking out the window as he sketched in his journal. It was a habit he had picked up on the long journeries the Legion took, helped to pass the time, and release some emotions. He was sketching one of the Dragoons of the Legion, sitting high on his horse with his blue and green jacket, a plume of dark feathers sticking out like a peacocks tail out of his matted metal helmet.

The server came over and placed his eggs, bacon and toast on the table, a glass of black coffee right next to it. He stared at the food, it was the best meal he'd gotten since he signed up for the Legion. He picked up his fork and practically inhaled the food, earning a few weird looks from the locals. When he was done, he stood up and slapped a few Virginian Pounds on the table, nodding at the waitress and leaving. His pack was back with the makeshift camp that had been made for the Legion, along with his rifle, leaving Malcom only with a .45 pistol he'd gotten approved for service by the Quartermaster.

Out in the streets, a commotion was taking place. Two Legionaries were talking to the Dragooner, and they didn't seem too friendly. As Malcom walked closer, he could hear the three arguing; apparently the Dragooner had had the misfortune of sleeping with some Girl that one of the Legionaries had hooked up with.

It happened in an instant. The madder of the Legionaries pulled out a .44 Service Revolver, and aimed it at the dragooner head. Malcoms had rushed for his holster, and his pistol was out like lightning. He fired two shots; one missed, while the other struck the mans hand. The revolver dropped from the mans hand, and the other Legionary rushed to help him. The Dragooner turned around to see who had fired the shot, and then quickly mounted his steed. He offered Malcom a short salute before galloping off at full speed. The other Legionary had picked up the Revolver, with blood in his eyes, but one of the MP's had by now arrived. He clobbered the Legionary over the head, and pulled his revolver on Malcom.

Next thing Malcom knew, he was in the city jail. In the cell across from him were the two Legionaries, both with hatred in their eyes. One of the MP's came over, and unlocked the cell, saying; "Your Free to go, theres someone in the front who wants to see you son."

Malcom was confused, but got up none the less. He went to the front, gathered his belongings from the desk clerk there and entered the lobby. There, standing in fully military honors, was Colonel Alexander Birmingham, commander of the Troop of Dragoons. He smiled, holding out his hand for Malcom to shake.

"One of my Dragoons says you saved his skin. According to him, you managed to pull out that pistol faster than a cazador could fly a inch and shot the gun right out of the mans hand. You have my thanks."

Malcom nodded, shook the mans hand and gave him a salute before meekly shuffling past him towards the door. He was thinking about how he'd just earned the hatred of most of the Legion, betraying a fellow Legionary to help a Dragoon when the Colonel spoke.

"One of my men's bounty just ran up and he's gone on home. I have a spot open, and we could use men like you. If you interested, meet me in my camp at sunrise."

Malcom looked back at the man, and simply nodded.

Tarheel

Sergeant Chest felt better than ever. He had a beer in his hands, his compatriots all around him, good music in his ears and the finest whore south of D.C. in his lap.

Tarheel had accepted the terms of Annexation, just like so many other smaller settlements. After the battles of Suffolk and others, many settlements choose to just submit instead of putting up a useless fight. The 1st had rolled in with no trouble at all, occupying the city while the town made the transition. Two of the poor Battalions had been detachements and sent East to take out a Raider encampment at the Eason Crossroad, while another went to give the Terms of Annexation to a village name Gatesville. Both would have probably been finished by now, although the Sergeant had more pressing matters.

Like finding a more private venue to continue his exchange with the beautiful Venessa.

Camden

Finally, some action!

Rickman and the 6th had been on a drive south. The Regiment had split in two; one contingent to sweep up the 158 while another went down the 34. Maple, Barco, Shawboro, and so so many more had all accepted terms of Surrender. Only a few put up any resistance, usually ones nearer to Elizabeth City. The city state there was being proactive in its resistance to Virginia. They'd been supply arms to the few towns that attempted to fight the 6th, and had even started funding Privateers to raid shipping, although most were sent to the bottom of the ocean soon enough by Norfolks navy.

There was even word that the 6th would join forces with the 3rd once they had arrived to take on Elizabeth City, but right now the 6th was just sitting. They had formed a defensive line in a sort of semi-circle along the Northern part of the edge of Elizabeths territory, and were just waiting for the confirmation that they were to assault. Rickman even overheard one of the officers say they were bringing down the VSS Norfolk for the assault.

Either way, Rickman could feel the adrenaline pumping through his blood. His rifle was in his hands as he looked over the small trench wall at the horizon. Elizabeth was a good deal away, but he swore he could see just a hint of it in the distance. Maybe he was just going mad, but either way, he couldn't damn wait to get into battle. To see the Elephant as the vets called it. He wanted it, oh so badly. And soon enough, he'd get it.

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Skarten
Senator
 
Posts: 4679
Founded: Dec 08, 2015
Ex-Nation

Yes, i know it's bad,but i'm just tired

Postby Skarten » Sun Apr 01, 2018 2:42 pm

The Manticoran Empire wrote:The wall of the Alamo was breached but it was a small one. The defenders raced to seal it but the raiders were quick. The first raiders were through the breach with clubs, bayonets, rifle butts, and swords. The defenders fought back fiercely, the militia with their bayonets, the townsfolk with whatever they had on hand. Many townsfolk and militia were still on the wall, firing on the raiders as they funneled into the hole in the wall. The size of the breach evened the odds. Few raiders could get through at a time, allowing the defenders to swarm those that could. The raiders, however, wore armor that fended off the blows of blunt objects. Against bayonets and close range rifle shots, however, the armor was virtually useless. Sergeant Miller thrust his rifle forward and up, sending his bayonet deep into the abdomen of a raider, tearing flesh and organs. No amount of narcotics could save a man from a punctured lung. Another raider was behind this one, pulling his cleaver from the skull of an unfortunate cobbler. There was enough distance between them that Miller could put a bullet between his eyes. But even as that one dropped, yet another raider appeared, brandishing his rifle as a club. Miller raised his own rifle in an upward sweep, seeking to knock his attacker off balance. There was a loud crack as the weapons collided and both men stumbled. Who recovered first didn't matter as the raider's head was smashed by a rock and Miller found himself on the ground, fighting desperately to keep a knife from being plunged into his heart. The raider was stronger. Miller could feel the blade part his skin and slide between his ribs, through his heart, and into his lung. The raider moved to twist the blade and then his head exploded and the world went black.

The fighting raged on and the ground grew slick with blood. The raiders, hopped up on chems, frantically smashed and stabbed and hacked and slashed at everything in front of them. The militia suddenly pulled away as an authoritative voice shouted, "FORM TWO RANKS!" The surviving militiamen formed into two ranks, each a dozen men long. "GET OUT OF THE WAY, FOLKS!" .*

The civilians tried to push the raiders, in a attempt to make them fall down to give them a chance to run. This, homewever, would not work, as such an act allowed an opening in combat, which the raiders used as a advantage to attack the civilians. Many of those who attempted to run away from the combat were slaughtered by the raiders, allowing them to push more and more through the chokepoint.
Dobrynya, the Bogatyr who had broken through the wall was in the combat, fighting against the militia with his Splattercannon rifle.As he managed to land a shot in a settler in the wall, he was attacked by a civilian armed with a axe. The warrior quickly used his rifle's bayonet to disarm his enemy , followed by thrusting his bayonet into the unlucky settler,the body falling to the ground shortly after.
Time was running. Time they couldn't afford to lose. They had to win this battle, and they had to do it quickly.

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Absolon-7
Diplomat
 
Posts: 915
Founded: May 11, 2014
Father Knows Best State

Part 2 - Chapter 3

Postby Absolon-7 » Sun Apr 01, 2018 6:13 pm

Belmont, pop. 125, Mid-March

Inside his officer's tent, resting on his hammock Colonel P.O. Herbert stretched his back in satisfaction. Having just been cleared from San Antonio Hospital he accepted immediately the offer to lead his battalion in the next conflict. After the brutal beating he had taken from the Nuka-breaker conflict he was anxious to redeem himself. He was to lead the entire 1st Battalion in occupying some confederation of villages to the west. His main battalion were to head down Highway 90 straight to the de-facto capitol, Gonzales. He would have help from a few other platoons that would march down Highway 183 and another that would march down Highway 87 and then 97. They would all march to Gonzales in preparation to siege it but no one thought it would turn out that way. Furthermore, marching straight there would usually take only a day or two but since they were to stop by every settlement to gain its allegiance It would now probably take twice that amount.

From what he knew of how this conflict started, Despot Starbuck was eager for more expansion and had sent another courier to this confederation to see if they wanted to be peacefully incorporated. They had foolishly refused but it was nothing some intimidation couldn't fix. Several dragoon squadron were to harass and vandalize the villages but were not to actually harm anyone. It had been one day since he left Seguin and by now nightfall was upon them. They had marched all the way to the village of Belmont and not wanting to let anyone die in his small fief, the mayor had given up the village without a fight and from radio reports the other forces had seen similar success as well as most villages had no desire to see large number of their small communities be harmed. Additionally, after a small bribe, the mayor had revealed that the constable of Gonzales had amassed a militia of 156 men and gathered them all at Gonzales. Perhaps there would be a small fight after all?

San Antonio City Hall

An unnatural stillness permeated throughout city hall this night. A local trader had recently returned with dire news of a looming threat in the west. Apparently some barbarous nation called Caesar's Legion had some sort of reign in the west and had quite nasty habit of savage acts specifically towards some tribe called the Twisted Hairs. It was a far off threat truth be told it was likely that it would one day turn its maw towards the richness of San Antonio.

San Antonio I-10 Gate Entrance

Corporal Gregory Stain was dead tired standing around looking around for potential trouble. This month he was assigned night sentry duty despite his desperate pleas. Fortunately tonight his wishes for excitement would come true. Off in the distance he saw some strange figures down the Interstate. Aiming a dim search light installed on the wall's deck above their direction, he peered through his binoculars to get a better. Apparently they were some heavily armored guys kinda like some power armor guys he learned from in school but intrinsically different somehow.

"Oy! Who goes there?!" howled the corporal, now standing directly on top of the closed gates battlements.
Last edited by Absolon-7 on Tue Apr 03, 2018 3:15 pm, edited 3 times in total.

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Theyra
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Postby Theyra » Sun Apr 01, 2018 6:54 pm

Columbia, Missouri
The final push into Columbia was about to begin and General Lycus Hawthorne was finishing up the final preparations in his command tent out side the city. The general mood in the Auxilia camp was certain victory as the raiders in Columbia had failed to stop the Republic's advances into outer edges of the city. Plus, the raiders themselves seem desperate as their launched piece meal attacks on the Auxilia's lines with were always forced back with heavy casualties. Lycus ended the meeting and walked out of the tent with the rest of his staff. He walked a good vantage point and looked over at the city. This city he though was last major hurdle for the current wave of expansion and then after it is the Republic's. Then he can start to focus on other pressing concerns that are gaining the attention of the Consuls and he would be needed deal with it.

The attack started sometime after noon. The battle itself lasted a few hours with the Republic having taken minimal casualties in the assault. The raiders were defeated and most were killed. Some managed to flee while the rest where captured. What happens to the captive raiders, Lycus does not care and he knows that they will not be free to roam the wasteland again. Columbia is theirs and his forces are quickly securing the city. Lycus would soon be recalled to Fort Scott and he has already been told that the Legions are being raised. Slowly in order to not draw too much attention. Only time will tell if it was worth it in the end.

Tallahassee, Florida
Viria Primus arrived in Tallahassee after parting ways with her trade caravan. It was a rather uneventfully trek and Viria was ready to accomplish her mission. She was sent to Florida to make contact with the Commonwealth due to developments that the Consuls are concerned with. It was easy to pose as a traveling doctor and join a caravan. She had the medical skills to back up her claims, due her father teaching her about medicine. Though she knew were disapprove of her turning down a being a doctor and becoming a agent of the Republic. Viria now just needed a find a official of Commonwealth and get a opening to discuss what the Republic wished from the Commonwealth.

Merchant district, St.Louis
Caleb Ventor was leading against the wall of a local bar and was waiting before his caravan was set to depart the city. Caleb could have passed time in the bar with some of his caravan mates. But he was elected to pass the time alone, preferring to people-watch while he waited. The Merchant district was usual busy with activity and he felt at ease. Everything was set from his memorizing his fake background to landing a job on this caravan heading west. For Caleb was on a mission on behalf of the Frumentarii and he wondered if he wondered what he will find. For he was assigned to investigate the tales of Romans in the west and report back what he found. Normally, tales from merchants would be dismissed but, the frequency and the common details of the tales gained the attention of officials. The Frumentarii were ordered to sent one of their number to investigate these claims and find out where theses Romans are. Among gathering information of if they are friendly or not. A sharp whistle rang in the air and Caleb looked to see one of his caravaneers looking at him. The man shouted at him, "Alex, we are good to go and get those guys out of the bar". "And if anyone of them are drunk already, then just tell them they are fired". "Zeke has no patience for drunks on his trips".

Caleb nodded his head to the man, "Got it Cole". Caleb went inside to collect his caravaneers and found that they were smart enough not to drink. merely playing a game of cards with each other. So after Caleb departed St.Louis with the caravan with a though of what is the truth to these western Romans.

Old Shawneetown, Illinois
While Old Shaweetown was never a big town or a important town even before the war. Under the Republic it was becoming a sufficient trade outpost due to it being the first town that ships would stop at when entering Republic territory. Trade ships would dock to resupply among others things. The town was growing and was already bigger then what it was before the Great War though that was not hard. One of that ships that had arrived was a ship from West Virginia called the Sliver Lantern. The officials at Old Shaweetown were not used to seeing a ship with their markings. After some questions from the Mothmen, they were allowed to trade.
Around this time, Halisca Yeoman and his bodyguard, Conner Hybrida were arriving in Old Shaweetown. Fredrick was on his way eastward to make contact with a group in West Virginia.

Due it recent events, the Republic wanted to have relations with other groups and they had heard from traders coming in on the Ohio about a Mothmen nation in West Virginia. Halisca was not exactly filled about speaking with this Mothmen but, he will do his job as a representative of the Republic to the best of his ability. He walked over to the trade officials office and asked about if there were any traders in port that have dealt with this Mothmen or are heading to their lands. Halisca was surprised to hear that a trade ship from the Mothmen themselves had dock and was selling their wares for the time being. Halisca quickly saw the opportunity to talk with this Mothmen and perhaps they would be the ticket to get a audience with their leaders.

Halisca and Connor made their way to where the Mothmen were selling their wares and politely introduced himself. "Hello fine traders, I hear you are from East and apart of the Mothmen nation there". "I am Halisca Yeoman and I am representative of the New Roman Republic". "I was on my way to your nation and I heard you were in port". "I was hoping that I could travel with you back to your nation in order to establish relations with your people". "How does that idea sound to you? Halisca stood hoping for a positive answer.
Last edited by Theyra on Tue Apr 03, 2018 12:01 am, edited 2 times in total.

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The Empire of Tau
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Postby The Empire of Tau » Sun Apr 01, 2018 10:07 pm

South Carolina Expansion
(Just a very small post for today.)

Seeking to expand their lands and influence, the Union Government has authorized the 11th Union Rifle Regiment and 12th Union Rifle Regiment to being moving. Upon their first contact, the small town of Horrell Hill, made of up of round 1,415 people, meet Union Diplomat Houston L. King. Negotiations went smoothly and soon the town of Horrell Hill quickly was adapted into Union lands. Next was Gaston, Congaree, Gadsden, Eastover, Swansea, Thor, Pelin, and Shand Run, which only has a total combined population of 467. Without issue, these towns quickly joined the Union.

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Parcia
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The Wild Hunt: The fall of the Hat

Postby Parcia » Mon Apr 02, 2018 1:08 am

Two weeks since launch
Mouth of the Cape Fear River

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uZTkg8GGEOo
Standing still as they charge
We will hold our ground
Not back down
We will raise our swords
From the ground
And we will fight the war to end
All the suffering, never fearing
Heroes, foes, or the daring
And their cause to the gods we pray
Never waive, time has come for us
To take charge and fight the power...



The chant rang out over the setting sun as the fleet prepared for the drive in to the river. The Tophat empire was...strange. A small, rather well equipped nation with a small military, yet impressive martial capabilities. If they had not been in such a inviting target, perhaps the clan would have over looked them. None the less, with out a real navy and what looked ot be light shore guns, the Empire was chosen as the first subject of the Wild Hunt.


The plan was simple, Half of the raiding band would disembark at the river mouth and proceed on foot. They would take with them a set of 51 mm mortars as well as Machine guns, on top of their rifles, shotguns, shields and melee weapons and other assorted weapons of war. They would move quickly, as to keep in pace with the fleet as they moved down the river as it winded through the area. The ultimate goal was to sack the City of Wellington and relieve it of its goods.

There would be no offer of tribute or peace, for this would serve as the testing for the largest warband in the Clan's History. tonight was the night.

Standing still as they charge
We will hold our ground
Not back down
We will raise our swords
From the ground
And we will fight the war to end
All the suffering, never fearing
Heroes, foes, or the daring
And their cause to the gods we pray
Never waive, time has come for us
To take charge and fight the power
So apparently Cobalt has named me a Cyber terrorist, I honestly don't know to be Honored or offended.
Right leaning Centrist from Florida No I am not The Floridaman...hes my uncle. Other then that dont @ me about politics, im leaving that
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The Traansval
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Left-wing Utopia

Postby The Traansval » Mon Apr 02, 2018 2:26 pm

Elizabeth City

His knuckles were white as he gripped his rifle tight to his chest. Lance Corporal Rickman peaked around the corner, only to quickly duck back in. He looked at the piece of concrete sitting on the ground, chipped off the wall from a round that nearly gave him Acute Lead Poisoning. He scrambled around in his webbing, taking out a grenade and tossing it in a wide arc. When the explosion echoed off the walls, he rushed out only to feel a sharp sting. He fell to the ground, his rifle clattering away. His head lolled to the side, and he could see the soldiers of Elizabeth City firing their rifles and their machine guns. The last thing he heard before he passed out, was someone yelling "GOT ONE!"

Two hours earlier


The excitement buzzed in the air as the men of 6th Infantry readied for the assault. Behind them, the already dug mortar pits were filled with all the mortars they could scrounge up. To their far right, the 3rd Infantry was doing much the same. In front of them, over a long stretch of open countryside, was Elizabeth City. It was a odd place, ruled by a woman claiming to be the direct heir to the British Throne, and the tone matched. Hundreds of men in bright red uniforms, armed with anything from a 10mm smg to a assault rifle, lined the trenches dug around the city.

One of the officers of the 6th jumped into the assault line dug by the men. Rickman looked up at the man in awe, his blood pumping loudly through his veins. The man checked his watch, a lit cigarettes dangling out of his mouth. He sighed heavily when he noticed the time, reached into his belt and took out a flare gun. The men around stood up, visibly tense and ready for the coming fight. The man looked down intently at his watch as he raised the flare gun into the air. He stood there, stock still for what seemed to be hours but was really minutes. Then, a snap and a whoosh as the flare was launched. Bright red light filling the battle scene.

Rickman planted his foot on the earthworks in front of him, launching himself forward with the wave of men joining him. Flares popped up all over the line, and men of the 6th and 3rd rushed forward towards the enemy.

Rickman grinned widely, now he could claim his destiny.

Back to the Present

Bright lights, spots on his vision. Was he blind? No, no his eyes were opening.

Lance Corporal Rickman groggily awoke. The roof above him was the sort of off white of a Army tent, and he could hear beeps and pings all around him. He began to sit up, and was quickly pushed down. He looked up to see the rather beautiful face of a Army nurse, who was quickly checking to make sure he hadn't taken out his needles. He gripped her arm, looking deep into her eyes.

"Where am i?"

"Your at a Mobile Army Surgical Hospital, in Elizabeth City."

Rickman looked up with a confused expression at the woman.

"What do you mean, IN Elizabeth City?"

The nurse smiled down at Rickman, patting him on the shoulder.

"We took the city yesterday, you've been unconscious for around 24 hours. You had a lot of damage to your Digestive tract, but the surgeons managed to get all the bullets out. You'll be good as new in no time."

The nurse stalked off, another patient calling her name. Rickman lay back down, a sigh escaping his lips. His first taste of action, and he missed most of it.

Worst of all, for the parts he was there for, he didn't feel brave. He felt Scared.

Winston

Staff Sergeant. Those god damn idiots up in the Brass made him a Staff Sergeant.

Serge- Staff Sergeant Al J. Chest was mopping. He'd had such a good gig going as Sergeant; enough sway to get the Privates to do what he wanted, but not enough responsibility. Now, he was a Staff Sergeant, in charge of a fireteam of three men. Currently, they were building a checkpoint on their side of the Bridge at Winston. After news of the fall of Elizabeth City reached them, the government of Winston immediately accepted the Terms of Annexation. Now, it was up to them to set up protection for this town.

The SSGT was sitting on a set of sandbags, across the river and the bridge he could see the other Winston, the one controlled by "The Union". He hadn't heard about them before now, but from what he heard they were no good Commies. He spit on the ground, his chewing tobacco puffing his cheek out. Didn't matter to him though, all he cared about right now was the Checkpoint. The faster this checkpoint got built, faster he'd get to raid the local bars.

Edenton Outskirts

Corporal, thats right Corporal, Malcom stood proud and tall in the saddle. In his hands were a pair of Dragoon issue Binoculars for scouting, and boy did they come in handy. His promotion also came with a new job; leading. He was in charge of a squad of three men including himself. Both were Private; Jack McPherson and Allison Drake. The three of them now sat in the saddle, on a hill overlooking the building of a checkpoint on the Highway 17 bridge to Merry Mill.

Merry Mill was Union Territory, and the Virginia Brass back in Norfolk distrusted these Union men. As such, orders were issued that all bridge across the Chowan river were to be fortified with Checkpoints. 1st Sublegion was assigned to build the Edenton Checkpoint, while the rest of the Legion garrisoned the town proper. However, it wasn't the checkpoint that Malcom and his troopers were watching.

It was the Union Garrison across the river, that just so happened to be watching them back.

"Do you think they're planning an attack" said Pvt. Drake.

Malcom looked sideways at the Trooper, she wasn't the smartest in the lot and was a bit jumpy when it came to combat.

"No... They wouldn't start a war over this land, they're just watching us."

Drake nodded, while McPherson started laughing.

"So... So... Its like... (giggles)... We're watching them, watch us!"

Malcom and Drake looked at each other;

"Shut up McPherson.", they spoke in Unity.

Hertford

"Private Bob, number 2255881043, assigned to the South-Eastern Watchtower"

That was his name "Private Bob", no last name. He was just a infant when his mother abandoned him on the steps of Fort Norfolk, where the recruits of the VSA were trained. The head trainer there took him in, and without any name being listed just named him "Bob". He grew up watching the drills, and when he was old enough managed to get in himself. After a month of Basic that he could have taught himself, he was off with the 3rd Infantry.

He had seen minimal action at Elizabeth; he was a Mortarman for his platoon. Although thankfully his services were only needed once; after the fall of Elizabeth, almost every city accepted Annexation peacefully. Including, Hertford.

Now Bob was off to his assignment, the town had been annexed yesterday and it was up to the 3rd to Garrison the town while the government was being established. And hey, watching over from the guard tower sure being the stuffed barracks any day.

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Eventlandia2
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Ex-Nation

Postby Eventlandia2 » Mon Apr 02, 2018 5:55 pm

Events Two: Electric Boogaloo

Gulf Commonwealth

A diplomatic incident was sparked after a homespun Militia formed in one of the local towns near Pensacola marched west and attempted an assault of the Federation of Coast State outpost on the otherside of Mobile Bay. The Militia was woefully defeated by the Coast State's superior force, but many in the Commonwealth claim that Mobile is a integral part of the Gulfs future. They claim its destiny for the Commonwealth to expand over the Gulf Region, and that Mobile must be absorbed into the Commonwealth. Some troublemakers even cite the Federations killing of the Militia as a Casus Belli.

Republic of Tennessee

The incursion of Dixie troops into the influence zone of the Horsemen did not go unnoticed. As their troops marched forward, mopping up towns through brute force, the Horsemen began to form alliances with many of the larger towns. The Kentucky Pact, so its called, is formed from the citystates of Bowling Green, Madisonville, Elizabethtown, Lexington, Frankfort, Ownesboro and of course the Horsemen of Louisville. These cities have all pledged to stand as one against the Republican forces invading from the south, and have bullied most of the smaller villages and towns around them into following them. Each of the towns have raised forces of a Thousand men, most Militia with a core of Regular troops and mercenaries at the center, while the Horsemen have dispatched units of Four Hundred Mounted Warriors to each as well. A force of Three Thousand men under the Command of a high war chief name Farfield has begun a campaign of raiding Tennessee over the border from the East. Using the thick Cherokee, Nantahala, and Chattahoochee Nationals Forest as both cover and base for his operations, his feared mounted warriors have sent raiding parties as deep into Tennessee territory as Dalton. Their tricky to pin down; as soon as Farfields scouts report a local force moving in, he just picks up his camps and moves to another part of the Forrest, ready to continue raiding roads, killing caravans and harrassing small villages. The leader of the horsemen sent a emissary through the lines to the Tennessee Government building, demanding that the Republic pull all troops out of Kentucky, or face War.

The Union

4,000 former citizens of Elizabeth City recently crossed the border into the Union before they could be cut off by Virginian Infantry. They were lead by the Citystates former Secretary of State, John C. George, who had petitioned the Union government for asylum. However, the government of the State of Virginia have also sent a petiton to the Union Government, stating that many within the group are former Soldiers and members of the former Government, and that they must be turned over to the Virginian Government to stand trial for crimes against Virginia.

Regulators

The towns and citystates of Boykins, Emporia, Gasburg and Bracey have all request that Regulator protection be extended South to them. With the State of Virginia expanding, they feel threatened and believe they might be next. However, this expansion of Regulator protection would violate the Treaty with the State, and could lead to Conflict.
Mothman Cult
MASSACRE AT MT PLEASENT! The news broke all over the nation, a group of Christain Zealots crossed the border near Winchester and slaughtered an entire temple of Cultists at the Mount Pleasent temple. The citizens of the great nation have been up in arms every since, demanding retribution for the dead. The only problem? The zealots came from a city state name Front Royal, and its under Regulator Protection.

Enclave

Mormon preachers from a Church outside Enclave control have begun flooding Dickville with Preachers and small start up churchs. While so far they haven't posed a threat, and by some reports their preachings have actually had a positive effect on local crime and the economy, there are many in the Enclave higher ups that despise their Faith, primarily due to their beliefs in Polygamy, and want them banned from Enclave territory. They got their chance to make this happen, when a Mormon Priest was caught with an Enclave Issued weapon, bought via the gun runners. While innocent of any real charges, seeing as how he bought the gun legally and had no idea it was Enclave property, many have used this incident the scaremonger against them.

National Commonwealth of Texas

A group of men calling themselves the "Crockett Riflemen" have recently come onto the radar of Commonwealth police after some... odd, incidents. These "Riflemen" tote themselves as Caravan Guards and "Ethical" Mercenaries. Based out of their camp in the Davy Crockett National Forest, they sell out members of their rather well trained band for guard duty, for a heafty price. They charge nearly three times that of a normal guard, which makes it all the more strange that they get work. The reason? Ever since they started their operation, the number of raids on Highway 59 and several highways to the North of the Commonwealth has increase tenfold, with caravans being hit with no survivors and the entire cargo being burned. While there is no evidence, many Commonwealth officials are secretly convinced that the Riflemen have been the ones doing the raids, since the only caravans that never seem to get hit are one guarded by the Riflemen. Border law enforcement are asking the Commonwealth Government to step in and end the situation.

San Antonio

To the far western part of San Antonio's land is the Medina Lake, a freshwater body of water that provides both drinking water and irrigation for some of the Despotates most fertile farms in the Lakehills region. Recently, a wealthy business man named Alexander Fairwell managed, through a mix of bribes and threats, to take control of the lake. He's begun charging local residents for the previously free water, and has caused a serious problem. His control of the water has lead to overall crop yields to drop by nearly half their normal numbers, but on the flip side Fairwell's company has brought in more tax revenue than the farms ever had. The local sheriff for the Lakehills region has sent a request to San Antonio's government to intervene and break up Fairwells Monopoly, and seems just about ready to shoot the man himself.

Republic of Texas
The eastern border town of Rockwell was recently hit by a group of bandits called the 77's, so called because they specialize in raiding up Highway 77. The military is requesting a punitive expedition to arrest or kill these bandits, the only problem is they're base is in the town of Lexington, south of Rockwell. Lexington, or as the local call it "Lex City", is a prosperous little trade town that makes its money off Chems, Slaves, Whores and "Immunity"; they take in Bandit or Raider groups and give them protection as "Lex Citizens". Any attempt to arrest them would breach Lexingtons sovereignty, and would lead to the cities army of 200 Mercenaries joining the 300 Bandits in fighting any Expedition, not to mention the Republic reputational damage to other small settlements. However, ignoring the attack could seriously impact public trust of the Republic.

New Roman Republic
A group of Tribals calling themselves the "Riders" in the Fort Leonard Wood National Park, near the roman city of Rolla, have begun making trouble by attacking caravans entering or exiting Roman lands on the I-44. They're slippery too; they ride in hard on their horses, firing volleys from the saddle, take the loot and vanish into the wilderness of the Park. No one sure where their camp is, just that its somewhere in the Park. Caravaners and Merchants have petitioned the Consuls to send a Military force into the forest to track down and end the Riders once and for all.

Chesapeake Confederation
A group of pirates, calling themselves the "Irish Rovers", have begun attacking shipping outside Confederation waters in order to avoid the Chesapeake Navy. While these are outside territorial waters, make no mistake that the ships being sunk are predominately from the Confederation, with some from the Virginian State and the independent cities under the Regulators. Calls from Merchants echo in the streets, saying that the Government should use its big navy already and wipe these Pirates out. Their base isn't confirmed, but reports say its somewhere on the Susquehanna River below the Pennsylvanian Line.

Children of Atom
A ship of considerable size, commonly called a "Cutter" among the wastelanders, recently sailed into port in the territory of the Children on the Alabama River. Its captained by one Nathan Algren, a Ghoul from the pre-war times and a former Navy captain. He has stated that he'd offer his services to his fellow Ghouls, in return for a bounty of 800 Caps a Month.

Directorate of Energy
A group of Deathclaws, numbered close to a dozen or so, have taken up residence on the edge of Directorate control in Stagg Hill Golf Course. While not a direct threat, they do pose a considerable risk to anyone travelling on I-70, and as such trade from that direction has ground to a halt.

88th Brigade
Yazoo City has raised a militia of 300 men and declared its independence, throwing out any members of the 88th from the town, either by force or by shooting them. They refuse to pay tribute to the Brigade anymore, and will defend their city to the last.

Grand Tsardom
A group of Raiders from the northern town of Kennet have decided to contest the Tsardoms power, and have begun raiding settlements under the Tsars influence. They number in the range of 800 men, and have done a great deal of damage. If these upstarts aren't dealt with, the power of the Tsar could fall into serious question...

2nd Kingdom of Orleans
The city of Bayou Vista, wedged between Orleans and the NCT, has sent a emissary to the Kingdom requesting to become a Protectorate of the Kingdom, bringing the border region between the Kingdom and the NCT under Orleanian Influence. This move, however, might be met with hostility by the NCT, and many urge the king to tread carefully.

Reavers
Some guy overdosed on Jet. Not just some guy, one of the Reavers biggest Jet pushers in Lafayette. By all accounts the guy was a corrupt man who skimmed a lot of profits for himself, but he also was the best damn salesmen the Reavers have ever had. Now, his role has become vacant, and there a plenty of people gunning for his spot. The main three, are James Monroe, Redhawk, and Alice Thrasher. Monroe is a ghoul, an accountant from the pre-war times. He isn't your typical reaver, but he has been instrumental for the local reaver chapter in Lafayette in terms of Business; profits increase three fold after he was brought on. However, some consider him a bit soft for the line of work, and some say he might try to go Legit. Redhawk is a old war leader, with no sense of business or salesmenship. He is, however, a excellent leader, and is the perfect man if you want to bring some order and discipline to the Lafayette chapter. Alice Thrasher is a junkie through and through, and has and affinity for convincing people to buy her product. She, however, lacks any experience in leadership at all, and can't do basic accounting for shit. These three have been at each others throats for the position, and picking one will probably lead to the other two leaving or even trying something... Violent.

Tophat Empire
An up an coming Lieutenant named 0731 has made a name for himself as a Lawman after discovering, in his spare time, a ring of drug dealers that had been getting servicemen hooked and then blackmailing them in order to further their business. Two options are on the desk of the Emperor; Knight the man and make him a high ranking Officer, or appoint the man as a true Lawman in charge of a cities police force.

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The Manticoran Empire
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Postby The Manticoran Empire » Mon Apr 02, 2018 6:10 pm

Nashville
Republic of Tennessee

The emissary had been received with dignity and respect, despite the clamor of many in the government for his blood. President Underwood met him in his office and heard him out. "Our demands are simple," the Horseman began, "Withdraw your armies from Kentucky and recognize the boundary or face war." Underwood nodded and said, "If peace was what you want, I would suggest a different way of opening the dialogue. The withdrawal of Republican forces from annexed territories is not an option. However, if you will halt your raids into our territory, we will be willing to sit down and discuss a more permanent solution to the crisis at a neutral location."

The Military Situation
The conflict was something that Republic hadn't wanted but was now stuck with. As such, the six regiments now in country would have to live up to their promise to protect the new citizens. Additional forces were being drawn from Alabama and Western Tennessee and rumor had it that Congress was debating instituting a draft if the war dragged on. Thus far, though, the draft was unnecessary, as volunteers were swarming recruitment offices in many northern settlements. It would be three months before these troops were available for combat but, if the numbers were accurate, there was at least a regiment's worth of troops signing up. As it stood, there were currently about 4,000 men in Kentucky to deal with the Kentucky Pact and at least that many more were being sent from other parts of the Republic. Hopefully the war would not last long but if it did, the Republic had no intention of quitting.

The Political Situation
The political situation wasn't looking good for the Republic. The Horsemen had gathered a large collection of settlements and were threatening to make this war a costly one. As such, the Republic set out looking for possible allies. The most obvious immediate ally was The Union. Lloyd Stephens was selected for the highly secretive mission. He would travel with a small entourage by horse to the Union Capitol in Charlotte, a journey of five days. Upon arrival, he was instructed to secure a beneficial agreement with the Union that would result in Union forces being provided to the war in Kentucky and trade between the two nations.
Last edited by The Manticoran Empire on Mon Apr 02, 2018 9:38 pm, edited 4 times in total.
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Arengin Union
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Postby Arengin Union » Mon Apr 02, 2018 7:50 pm

Zepplien wrote:Iwashi Plantation, Baltimore
It was rare that a man could fire fellow Atlas Free Traders to guard him, few had such wealth or influence within the Gulch. Iwashi was one of those men though, his two personal guards clad in quintessential Vault Tec Powered Armour being used for their sheer intimidation factor. Such investment paid wonderful dividends as his Foreman was practically shivering in fear from just standing before Iwashi. His report was... Less than satisfactory, it was indeed quite bad, a certain failure of command on behalf of the faulty intelligence of the lesser people of the wasteland.

"This turn of events is unfortunate." Mr. Iwashi said simply, tapping his fingers along the arm of his chair as he was brought a pip-pad out to look over so numbers "Your pay will be docked for every slave that perishes under your command, furthermore if any escape you shall likewise be fined. I suggest that you reign in your slavedrivers. It would be a shame to find you in the fields because you are unable to pay your debt." his wife spoke up at last, nursing a brandy on the rocks "I understand that you wastelanders avoid thinking as a rule, but consider that slaves are valuable property. My property, and that of my husband, perhaps someday that of the offspring." with but a subtle movement of her finger one of the goons cracked his plasma rifle over the foreman's head. "I do not like having my property destroyed, further destruction of my property will not be tolerated."


"I-I understand ma'am... It wont happen again... I swear..." Ed said with fear in his words as the barrel of the riffle was removed from his head. Mrs. Iwashi then gave a subtle move with her hand, waving the man off. Ed bowed to both masters and walked out of the room, with sweat all over his body as he then set his hat back on his head and mounted on his horse. His henchmen awaited him.

"So what did the boss lady said?" one of the guards asked.

Ed kept silent for a bit and then spoke, "She wasn't pleased about the loss of the slaves. From now on we don't shoot to kill, understood!?"

The henchmen nodded their heads.

"Good, I don't need anymore shit than I already have." Ed said with a frustration brow, he was not cut out for this shit anymore.

Right as Ed said this there came the worse news that there could've been. Jim, the guard in charge of The Box came running with alarm as he struggled to keep balance while running.

"Foreman! Foreman!" The kid yelled. The yells altered Ed's horse as it began to raise its two front legs. Ed calmed the horse down as the kid approached.

"What's the matter boy. Why you ain't guarding The Box?!" Ed said angrily.

"T-the... the slave..." Jim was losing his breath.

"What about the slave? He's dead?" Ed asked.

"No... he's gone!"

The words pierced right through Ed's head like a bullet, his heart feeling a worried rush. That "Oh Shit" feeling one has every once in a while, and when it happens its not good at all.

"Lockdown the plantations, wake up all the guards! You know the procedure. Don't tell the bosses. Let's go people!" Ed acted with instinct at the news. This usually didn't happen, a slave escaping the plantation was unusual, from The Box was a first. Quickly the whole plantation went upside down as guard armed with both energy weapons and firearms began to search around the slave pens and around the surrounding wooded area of the plantation's perimeter. Guards went through the entire plantation with torches looking for this slave, posses of guards went out of the gates into the wilderness of Maryland looking for the runaway.

In the slave pens, slaves were abruptly woken up by guards with guns going bed to bed and room to room looking for any tunnel, any maps or documents, anything hinting where the runaway had gone. Slaves were lined up, some whiplashed when unable to answer where the runaway had gone. Their lives were about to be made worse.

John Glass

John and the man he had come to know as Crazy Jake had dug a tunnel right across the entire plantation into the swamps south of the plantations. John being very glad to finally see freedom and taking off the leather collar he had on his neck for weeks. The fresh air of freedom was simply delicious as he embraced it. First thing he did was clean his face from all the dirt and as he looked at himself reflected in the water he couldn't bear but smile. Crazy Jake however was not very happy.

"Ahhhh danget... I ain't neva gon dig my way to Kentuchky. I ain't never gon get mah gold!!!" he yelled as he then pierced the ground with his pickaxe. The disillusioned old man then sat on the ground defeated.

John couldn't hold but feel bad about the old man. He was free thanks to him and it didn't feel right to leave him alone, as much as he wanted he couldn't leave the old man alone.

"Hey, we're miles from Kentucky. How about you come with me, I can't go back to Vault City after this, but we can travel together to Kentucky if you want." John extended his hand to the old man.

Crazy Jake thought of it fro a second or two, he was indeed crazy but not stupid. "Well I minaswell! I ain't the young man I used to be. Even though Im still in shape! Neheehehe!" the old crazy coot took John's glass and hooped right up. The two shook hands in agreement, they gathered their supplies from the tunnel and dug it up. John was armed with a spade a hunting knife, Jake had his trusty pickaxe, and his two barreled shortened shotgun which he had hid in his pants the whole time, much to John's surprise.

"Where to then partna!?" The old man asked.

John stared into the empty dark void of the Mayland swamps. Looking at the north star he then turned in the opposite direction. "South. See what we can find." And so the two men were off to seek their fortunes.
"I do as I please"
-King Abraham Markev final words before jumping into a cage to fight a lion.

Proud member of the Federation of Allies

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Ralnis
Postmaster of the Fleet
 
Posts: 27699
Founded: Aug 06, 2012
Father Knows Best State

Postby Ralnis » Mon Apr 02, 2018 9:50 pm

Mount Pleasant,
West Virginia


The Silver Lantern docked to the large riverene docks of the Cultists capital. The shock of news from the newspapers and radio had made it all too quickly what happened. Christian Zealots snuck over and massacred a temple in a village. Close to the capital, this desecration of the temple had made many angry and demanded blood, blood that will either be dipped by Zealot blood, or Regulator for it was their settlement that was in their protection.

An emissary was sent to the Regulators about the situation and told them the demands of the Cult, extradite the zealots or cast them out for the people to get their vengeance in the name of their Winged God.

Going back to the Roman emissaries, they were ushered into a temple, a large one for its size and was made from post-war materials. They walked through the first floor where there were eldritch statues of the Mothman in freighting poses, but people worship the creature nevertheless. To any sane man, the sight of such a thing would only solidify their beliefs that the mountain people were crazy. However, crazy didn't mean stupid as the emissaries would go up to the second floor and overhear people in scholarly clothing talking about Ohio and any military bases with schematics.

As they got to the top of the temple, a man in ornate robes had a pip-boy 3000 on his arm as he was praying to a shrine of the Mothman. He was blocked by two masked soldiers with assault rifles and a reinforced combat armor. As the group came close, they were stopped by them and the robed figure motion to stop them. The soldiers stand down as he opens up his arms to the merchant who kneel.

" Oh holy priest, forgive me for interrupting your daily prayer but I brought emissaries from the Roman Republic on the other side of the Ohio."

The Holy Priest looks to the Roman representatives, stroking his beard in a inquisitive manner he gave a nod and bowed to look at the merchant.

" You have done good merchant, your diligence is a blessing to our righteous service. Go and be happy for the Mothman is with you today." The merchant prayed and thanked profusely as he walked out of the temple.

"If you follow me Romans to my office for we can talk." The Priest said to the Romans as they walked to his office.

His office was very modest compared to the rest of the large temple, but you could see the entirety of the capital.

" My name Third Flame Herbert of our Glorious Communion of the Mothman. I will be the representative of the Mothman and to establish relations between our groups."

Grayson, Kentucky

It has been two weeks since the Cults incursion into Eastern Kentucky. Much has been slow with the slow expansion of a new rule by cleansing the lands of raiders and evil mutants in order to bring peace for those who tried to make a living. Ghouls and tribals were still unsure of the Cult despite them going around defending others or killing raiders, however traders and engineers came in to help restore farms and towns that have been left untouched and help what was needed.

It was not for nothing, the Holy Guard were near the town of Grayson, a tribe base that the Cult had made contact with. The tribe was apart of a larger culture sect of tribals who were all over Kentucky and had made it so that they have been able to get access to some information that was important to them.

The horsemen of Kentucky and many of the city-states formed the Kentucky Pact, which was something they didn't feared but to see that the Republic of Tennessee, the Dixie forces were marching in the west and south with 4,000 troops in meant that they were going to go to war, and they mean business. The Cult had no anger towards the their neighbors, but their ambition to expand into Kentucky with influence and economic power means that they were willing to work as an ally of the Pact.

Envoys from Point Pleasant met with the leaders of the Pact in secret. The Pact leaders, weary of the Cult, they knew that they heard rumors of the Cult in Eastern Kentucky fighting raiders and helping the people there. The envoys mention of their powerful factories that make them have a mighty industrial base that could equip their army and riders with better weapons and armor while also offering their assistance in fighting the regiments.

They were still skeptical as the Cult were only giving honeyed words and not results, but the next month will allow them to see the industrial might as the military presence reaches further to back up the Pact against the Republic.

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Puertollano
Negotiator
 
Posts: 5320
Founded: Nov 30, 2015
Scandinavian Liberal Paradise

Postby Puertollano » Mon Apr 02, 2018 9:57 pm

Elerian wrote:
Puertollano wrote:-Snip-


Columbus, Atom Delegation


The Diplomat, Kyle Kay, listened to all the cleric had to say. It was intriguing to say the least. These Atomites were virtually unknown to the Commonwealth. Only a handful of well travelled merchants could give the Gulf officials and clue about who these people were. The merchant’s responses were largely the same, that these were religious fanatics. Beholden to the little understood radiation that had been left behind by the Great War.

It certainly explained their peculiar appearance. Exposure to radiation was known to cause deformities, or in extreme cases transform a person into a Ghoul. It seemed these clerics were well on their way to Ghouldom. It seemed, however, that they were intent on bringing their religion here to the Commonwealth. Such things were seldom good news. Such institutions were unlikely to gain much traction down south in Florida, but up here in Georgia Kay was less certain. The people here were often superstitious, largely because many of the communities were rural and ignorant of the wider world. Kay could certainly see the danger in such a thing, but they would be allowed to buy a building suitable for a Church. That was if they could find someone willing to sell it to them.

On their next request, trade. It was unlikely that merchants would seek an early demise by setting foot in their irradiated capital. Not to mention from their garb, it didn’t seem like they were prosperous enough to offer many goods or services. The Commonwealth held few state monopolies, so trade would likely be conducted by its citizens. That didn’t mean however, that the state wouldn’t take a keen interest on what was being imported or exported.

Their final request was a simple one. A map was an expensive thing to produce, but it wasn’t difficult to procure a handful of cheap maps detailing trade routes, topography, and political boundaries. In exchange the Commonwealth would receive greater details of the lands to their west. Perhaps an unequal bargain, but the Commonwealth was generous to its friends.

With each of these matters covered, the Diplomat bid the clerics adieu so they might bring back word of their meeting to their leader.

[align=center]* * *



Columbus
Children of Atom


So, it was decided. There was to be a branch of the Children of Atom Church to be built in a nearby settlement within the jurisdiction of the Gulf Commonwealth. The Missionaries job was to oversee the day-to-day activities of the Church and lead numerous services in the name of Atom and the High Confessor. A symbol of radioactivity was nailed to the front door of the building, and a large splash of paint on the side read: "Obey the glow of Atom!". Several of the locals painted underneath this: "Fuck off, crazy cultists." The audience to listen to the preaching varied from day to day, and all ceremonies began with the worshipping of the portrait of the High Confessor. Unlike many of the other branches of the Children of Atom, the High Confessor was looked up to with the same reverence as Atom. Many people just came to witness this crazy conglomerate of people proselytise to radiation. The other agreement that failed was trade, Brother did hint that many goods could be bought through the Children of Atom, such as pure radiation. Not that everyone is a fan. So far, without many raw materials, the Glow was left unsupplied. The last agreement was a map. The map that the Gulf Commonwealth gave was large, with great detail; particularly compared to the one that the Children gave to them. The deal was simple, Brother White handed over the Children's map to the Diplomat. When the diplomat looked over it, all it would have was a very rough, basic map of the Gulf Commonwealth; an incredibly disproportionate picture of the size of the Glow; and many question marks around the rest of the map. Thanks to the information given by the Diplomat, the High Confessor was much more aware of their surroundings.
Senator Levi Murphy (D-MN)
Chairwoman Lilyana Wolf (R-ME)
J.P. Randy Cramp (R-TX)
Mayor Tammy Tablot (I-NV)

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The Empire of Tau
Minister
 
Posts: 2740
Founded: Dec 19, 2016
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby The Empire of Tau » Tue Apr 03, 2018 5:32 pm

The Dawn of Bob’s Foods

The franchise known as Bob’s Foods, privately owned by Bob T. Mill, has exploded in popularity recently in the Union. Starting out as a small stand, Bob’s Foods now has expanded to all major cities and settlements in the Union. Serving all forms of food for the masses, Bob’s Foods has established its dominance over the food market in the Union, beating out all other competition. Seeking to expand their growing industry, Bob’s Foods has started to stretch out into other neighboring nations. Their adventures in the Dixie Republic and the Tophat Empire has been met with astounding success, becoming a major player among other food companies in their area.

South Carolina Expansion

With preparations made ready to go, the Union continue to expand their holdings. Next on the list was Boykin, Spring Hill, Woodrow, Elliot, Timmonsville, Lynchburg, Atkins, Sardis, Rembert, Delzell, Oakland, Mayesville, Stateburg, Cherryvale, Ashwood, Oswego, Wedgwood, Cane Savannah, Millwood, and Mulberry. A total population of 3,536 is reported to be haved in all these towns. As per usual, negotiations went underway, and went as expected. The next issue on the list is now Sumter, a large settlement of 25,000 people. Union Diplomat Steve J. Form attempted talks, but it went nowhere as of now.

All Are Not Welcome

Asylum they shall not be given, a letter has been sent to Secretary of State, John C. George, giving word of their news. Union soldiers from the 10th Union Rifle Regiment has been sent out to safely escort the refugees back into Virginia lands. A letter has also been sent to the State of Virginia, apologizing for any convenience that has been made.
Last edited by The Empire of Tau on Tue Apr 03, 2018 5:32 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Dragos Bee
Minister
 
Posts: 2134
Founded: Jul 17, 2017
Liberal Democratic Socialists

Postby Dragos Bee » Tue Apr 03, 2018 6:55 pm

((Collab Post between Dragos Bee and Theyra.))

Nathaniel and his Companions, Augustum, Texas

Nathaniel Green was just about to start his job as bodyguard to Marcus Antonius, son of one of Augustum's Senators. In order to celebrate his last day in the Steel Mill, he and Sedna Hill, now one of his lovers, had gone to one of Augustum's easternmost taverns in order to do two things: One, celebrate their good fortune, and Two, scout out a potential escape route just in case thier attempts to sabotage Augustum's ties of vassalage with the Legion go pear-shaped. However, the former plan was complicated by the fact that Marcus Antonius, the Senator's Son they were supposed to be guarding, had gone to the tavern with them, wearing his conspicious aristocrat's toga. When asked why he had done such a thing, Marcus would just say, "Because One, I like you guys, and because Two, you need my luck."

And said luck hopefully brought them in range of a certain caravan that contained spies from the so-called 'New Roman Republic'...

"Alex Underwood" and his caravan had recent arrvied in Augustum and he was paying attention to his surroundings. Taking note that the guards in the city were definitely wearing Roman-styled armor and the native names he heard by subtly listerning to were Latin, as the cavarn moved to set up shop. "So this is where the western Romans are", Caleb thought to himself. But, also on his way to Augustum, Caleb heard about a Legion somewhere in Texas and he wanted more information.

Caleb collected his paid from Zike, the leader of the cavarn when it was time and joined some of his caravaneers to celebrate their trip in a tavern. Caleb joined in since a tavarn may be a place to get some infonation about the city. Plus, Caleb was tired from the trip and relaxing in a tavarn with his fellow caravanners sounded good.

He was ordering something to drink from the tavarn keep when Caleb noticed a man approach as well. Calen turned his head to the man, hefigured start a casual conversation and spoke with a southern accent." Have you been here long? He asked in a calm tone. "I am going to stay here a bit with my carvarn and this place is different from the other cities I have been to. Got any advice about this place?"

Nathaniel would figure out that the man was crudely (from his point of view) trying to pump him for information. In response to his, he spent a few copper coins on a glass of wine for himself, before smiling and saying: "Well, trade here is good; plenty of food and alcohol and clothes and tools and of course, guns. Note though that there's a restriction on gun sales to foriengers for the time being. As for this place being different; yeah, the founder of this city wants to take what is best from the Old World..." he leaned in closer, "Or what he considered best before he died."

"Ah and I am getting a vide from this place and that may be it. Cale leaned in as well before ordering a beer. "Despite the style of the place, seems this is like the other cities I have been to out east. Caleb took a second to think. "Granted there are more things to worry about out east". "Mainly those raiders bands south of Missouri. They make going down the Mississippi River a problem". Caleb took a sip of his beer and leaned in again. "Though I am susprised that this place has a silimar aesthetic to one place back east". "The vide there feels different to the one here".

A series of eye-blinks from Nathaniel, a surprised and steely gaze from Sedna, and a wide-eyed look of just plain surprise from Marcus as Nathaniel said, "There are more Roman-based states to the East? How many?!"

"Ehhhh one I think?" Caleb said kinda pretending to be susprised at the reation. "Relax man and since I feel this talk may go for a long haul". "My name is Alex Underwood and perhaps we should continue this at a table? Caleb look around the tarvarn for a open table and pointed to one. "I see a free one there near the back".

And indeed there was one near the back and relatively secluded in an alcove. Nathaniel nodded, and said with a smile, "Sure."

Sedna and Marcus would continue to watch, the former more discreetly than the other.

Caleb sat at the table with his beer in hand. He noticed the two that were with the man were watching them. Caleb was subtle about it and it seemed like that he did not know that. "Sooooo, I can take from your response that you have not traveled east that much. "Or you have not talked with the caravans like Zeke's". "He makes trips from here to as far as Missouri." "Could maybe travel more but..... he likes to stick with routes what he knows". "What is your name by chance?"

Nathaniel's answer was, "Nathaniel. Nathaniel Viridian. And, no, I have little news of further east." His face turned grim as he shifted to Latin. "All right, I've had enough. You are probably the most inept Frumentarii I've seen, one that won't make it in the Legion. Just by some scant statements I get that you're from another 'Roman' faction in the Wastes. So tell me now; who do you work for? What title does he have?"

Caleb let out a heavy sign and spoke in Latin, "Yet I am still alive and you will be surprised on how many people fall for that act". "Not sure on if I should say anything really". "Considering I feel like a dead man right now......." Caleb took a long sip of his beer. " I should have just sticked to the caravans".

The covert NCR agent would then smile, and say, "Now, now, no need to be paranoid. You've already given away that you and your people are more likely to be enemies of the Legion than they are not. And any enemy of the Legion is a friend of mine. Not quite a friend of Augustum's, but that can change."

A smile. "So what do you wish to know, instead?"

"Here is the thing, if you are telling me that you are not working for Augustum or this Legion". "I am not going to say anymore here". "I messed up enough at using that act on you"."I know your friends are watching us right now and......" Caleb signed again. "The one in the robes is official or related to one right? "This place went more to the books then what I am used to".

"He's a Senator's Son I am bodyguarding, yes," Nathaniel said. "And yes, we're watching you, but not officially. Now, tell us what you wish to know so I can provide, or it will be official."

Caleb took a final sip of his beer, "Fine",said in a irrated tone. "My people were susprised to hear rather consistent tales of Romans in the west from traders coming from there"."So I was sent on a simple job to see find out who these Romans were". "Other details like if they are friendly..... but, while I was on the road". "I heard about another group called Caesar's Legion." "I have a more bad feeling about them but, either way". "Just here to find other Romans".

Nathaniel smiled again. "Well, all right, I'll tell you all about them. Basically, Augustum is a city-state based on the Roman Republic, but are vassals to Caesar's Legion, who are a brutal and cruel would-be Empire. Caesar's Legion was founded by one 'Caesar', who says he is the Son of Mars who is meant to bring order and civilization to the Wasteland. And he does it by brutally conquering, enslaving, and wiping out local identities and cultures. Women are cattle in Caesar's Legion unless they are 'Priestesses' who indoctrinate children into belief in Caesar's divinity as the Son of Mars. Augustum, however, is only waking up to that; they're a much kinder place who buys slaves from the Legion and frees them as paid workers. Nevertheless, Caesar has a lot of muscle and wealth, and to Augustum's Senate, that is a powerful lure even if it leads to perdition."

His smile then deepened, his lips upturning to draw attention to his gleaming eyes. "Unless of course, there is another power that can persuade them otherwise."

"Okay, I see were you are going with this and........ yeah". "My people would not be fans of the Legion but," Caleb emphasize it. "My people are no where close to this place"."It took me two weeks to get here by caravan". "Sending coin to persude a far-away power to oppose another is.... a stretch at best. Considering we got our problems to deal with". "I am not sure to what I could provide you really". "Unless you really want to make a case with my people".

Nathaniel leaned closer and said, "I want you to alert the people here of your own Roman Nation and its more compatible values and spread promises of reward; they don't need to be true. But more importantly, I want you to provide me a way out of Augustum and further east should things go, well, south. Can you do that?"

"Telling others of the New Roman Republic should not be hard". Caleb pointed to his right to a full table. "Those guys joined up with Zeke's caravan back at the Republic's captial and I am guessing that they will talk about it. Plus, Zeke's caravan is not the only one that makes the trip from there to here". "Kinda figured that the merchants that have been to the Republic would talk about it here". "Considering the similarities, though I can make word travel faster". "As for a escape plan, I know what caravans are heading east and which ones are the easiest to blend in". "For a more quick exit...... I have planned for that if sticking to a caravan is too slow".

A chuckle from Nathaniel as he said, "A caravan would do for now..."
Goodbye, PT2M. Sorry for my behavior.

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