Fallout: Louisiana Blues | IC | Closed and Dead |

[Krugmar]

Albert L'Auberge
Council Room - Following Day
Providence

Albert had gained little to no sleep the night before, unable to make himself comfortable enough to drift off. He had worked through what had remained of the night, making sure that his Casino was fully secure. He had put out orders to begin recruiting more thugs, hoping to loan them out to the Providence guard and to make his Casino seem more secure to potential customers. Somehow he looked quite fresh, sitting at the Council table, though perhaps the lack of sleep had not caught up with him yet.

He heard the proposal from O'Brian and considered it for a few seconds. A truce would mean no war, no war would mean more customers. With that his decision was already made, when the vote was called he raised his hand and said "Aye". He was sick to death of the war that was happening, it threatened his business which was something he could not abide.

'Sawbones'
I-10

Sawbones made the mistake of looking at his new companion, prompting one of his inbuilt speeches to blurt out. "What a great day to be in the US army!" he shouted involuntarily, before quickly turning away and continuing towards Providence. He really hoped that he could be fixed, he wouldn't be able to put up with much more of the infernal speeches.

[Kazarogkai]

Bienville Parish, Louisiana
The Bundle of Knives
Warlord Cornelius White

Waiting

A rather interesting thing when you think about it, some can do it well for a long time while others couldn't do it for even short periods of time.I have found myself throughout my life waiting for various things whether it be for a meal, to waiting right now for this band of tribals to come and walk through here. Why am I here, well that is a complicated story that doesn't really need to be get into just yet but the short and narrow is tribals are an interesting lot. People in general are rather interesting honestly but still. For a while now I have found myself having to put the fear into the hearts of the inhabitants of this land in order to keep them down and not a threat to my settlement of Arcadia. Since Little Creek I have found myself having to burn down 2 additional Tribal villages and disperse a handful of small camps. This land was one of war and strife but since I have arrived the inhabitants have had to find themselves facing the taste of what is known as total war. Such a thing was honestly unheard of in this land of endless skirmishes and feuds and when it came the reception was met with shear terror. As of now I have found myself embroiled in a war with me allied to a tribe known as the Whispers and opposing a rather large tribal confederacy known as the "Montou Confederacy", named after the primary village within it, that has set itself against me and my forces. Their have been a few skirmishes and such as of now with only one real "battle" of any sorts when the Montous attempting to launch a war party against the Whispers. The Whispers found out about the attack and were able to retreat and meet up with me and together we took a stand and let the Montou War party come to us. The result being I was able to inflict a nice little defeat of their forces forcing them to rout from the field. Javelin vs. Rifle, not much of a contest honestly, I even let the Whispers go and chase them down and get a few kills. As of now I am waiting. Waiting for what you ask? The Montous will be marching here very son and I plan on having me and my 50 Militants and 20 Whispers ambush them. This had become the nature of this conflict honestly with misdirection and slaughter being the norm. My forces were to well armed and in such a good position that if the Montous where to launch an attack it would be virtual suicide, but because of their sheer numbers I was unable to do the same to them. So as such we poked and prodded at each other hoping to where each other down over time wih shear attrition. Such was the nature of this conflict.

One of my men comes up to me and quietly states "The scouts have reported in, the enemy has arrived." I nodded my head in acknowledgment and watched as a similar message was conveyed down the line. We were positioned on the side of a hill with my Militants being placed higher up while the Whispers were placed more closer to the base. I carried a flare gun in my hand green denotes when my troops will attack while red denotes when the Whispers will attack. As usual my troops were principally armed with Hunting rifles and Pump action Shotguns, while my officers and some of the NCO's were armed with R91s and Some Combat Shotguns. The Whispers on the other hand were armed with their traditional Hatchets and Throwing spars, though one or two of them had some poor quality pistols. The plan was to wait for the Montous to pass in front of are forces and one they are half way through My militants will begin to open fire, The Whispers being down their to kill any Montou that attempted to charge up the hill at us. When I gave the signal the Whispers would charge and slaughter the rest. In the end we would have another nice victory to claim as are won and would of further reduced the Montou's forces. And even better based off my intel I have good reason to think there may actually be a Montou chief traveling with this party. I watched as my enemies marched in front of mey forces and waited for the opportunity when it finally came I took it. I raised my flare-gun in the air and gave the signal, A roar of fire emitted and the screams of the forsaken screeched into the day.

A little while later

Bodies lay upon the ground battered and twisted with gaping bloody holes all over. Upon the ground red covered the surface like a sticky varnish, and the smell of rot and decay pervaded the hot humid air. I watched upon the hill my own looted the corpses of are fallen enemies, taking the heads of are enemies as trophies and having these be tallied by official counters as proof of their service. A few Whispers lay upon the ground dead from various wounds, their bodies would be carried away by their comrades and returned to their village as heroes. two of my men came up to me, one an officer the other a regular enlisted, and at the nod of the officer the enlisted showed me the head of the enemy chief. He would be well rewarded soon.

[Ontorisa]

OOC: Teleported us further into the Front, sorry

"The Front", Northern Louisiana

The sun was setting and Monet did not like the looks of the surrounding area as the valley grew darker, narrower and began to grow more streams and plant life all around. Flicking out his 9x19mm Smith & Wessan SD9 Pistol, Monet turned on the flashlight he had in his left hand. Down the valley was probably something Monet regretted seeing. At least eight Jengals sat there, feasting on the remains of a dead wild Branhim that they had probably run down.

Seeing the light, the Jengals hissed at Monet before Monet turned to Rocky and Urban.

"Oh shit!" Monet shouted before the Jengals left the Branhim corpse and sprinted after the new meat that they had spotted.

[SaintB]

OOC: Teleported us further into the Front, sorry

"The Front", Northern Louisiana

The sun was setting and Monet did not like the looks of the surrounding area as the valley grew darker, narrower and began to grow more streams and plant life all around. Flicking out his 9x19mm Smith & Wessan SD9 Pistol, Monet turned on the flashlight he had in his left hand. Down the valley was probably something Monet regretted seeing. At least eight Jengals sat there, feasting on the remains of a dead wild Branhim that they had probably run down.

Seeing the light, the Jengals hissed at Monet before Monet turned to Rocky and Urban.

"Oh shit!" Monet shouted before the Jengals left the Branhim corpse and sprinted after the new meat that they had spotted.

Rocky

"Tell me Monet, is this whole state as fucked as this place?"

This was the deciding factor; today was definitively a bad day. He knelt and switched the fire selector on the rifle to single and took careful aim - his shooting might attract more critters but there wasn't much of a choice right now was there? "You two stay back and pick up the ones I can't get, I'll go point on this!"

He opened fire, carefully plunking away one round at a time as the jengals rushed the trio, yapping and yowling with excitement at the prospect of fresh meat over the rotting remains of a scavenged carcass and if they were like the dogs or coyotes they seemed to descend from they were probably communicating with each other. Maybe they were just going after the big juicy brahman that was with Urban it wouldn't bugger Rocky one iota if the slavers beef was killed; but the chances of that were not good enough that he was going to let a bunch of wild hungry animals charge him without fighting back himself. His first shot hit the lead animal in the chest next to it's right leg and sent it flipping head over tin cups where it whimpered and then remained still. In the dark though getting shots like that with any regularity was a difficult task and his second and third shots hit dirt while the fourth hit one in the ear and made it lose some of its enthusiasm for the hunt. The fifth shot was met with a yelp from somewhere in the pack but Rocky wasn't sure where or why and finally number six took out another of the jengals as they rushed forward but the gap was closing fast and there where still at least five of them to contend with...

[Ontorisa]

OOC: Teleported us further into the Front, sorry

"The Front", Northern Louisiana

The sun was setting and Monet did not like the looks of the surrounding area as the valley grew darker, narrower and began to grow more streams and plant life all around. Flicking out his 9x19mm Smith & Wessan SD9 Pistol, Monet turned on the flashlight he had in his left hand. Down the valley was probably something Monet regretted seeing. At least eight Jengals sat there, feasting on the remains of a dead wild Branhim that they had probably run down.

Seeing the light, the Jengals hissed at Monet before Monet turned to Rocky and Urban.

"Oh shit!" Monet shouted before the Jengals left the Branhim corpse and sprinted after the new meat that they had spotted.

Rocky

"Tell me Monet, is this whole state as fucked as this place?"

This was the deciding factor; today was definitively a bad day. He knelt and switched the fire selector on the rifle to single and took careful aim - his shooting might attract more critters but there wasn't much of a choice right now was there? "You two stay back and pick up the ones I can't get, I'll go point on this!"

He opened fire, carefully plunking away one round at a time as the jengals rushed the trio, yapping and yowling with excitement at the prospect of fresh meat over the rotting remains of a scavenged carcass and if they were like the dogs or coyotes they seemed to descend from they were probably communicating with each other. Maybe they were just going after the big juicy brahman that was with Urban it wouldn't bugger Rocky one iota if the slavers beef was killed; but the chances of that were not good enough that he was going to let a bunch of wild hungry animals charge him without fighting back himself. His first shot hit the lead animal in the chest next to it's right leg and sent it flipping head over tin cups where it whimpered and then remained still. In the dark though getting shots like that with any regularity was a difficult task and his second and third shots hit dirt while the fourth hit one in the ear and made it lose some of its enthusiasm for the hunt. The fifth shot was met with a yelp from somewhere in the pack but Rocky wasn't sure where or why and finally number six took out another of the jengals as they rushed forward but the gap was closing fast and there where still at least five of them to contend with...

"The Front", Northern Louisiana

Monet looked back at Rocky firing at the Jengals. He probably would run out of bullets before all of the Jengals were dead. A howl echoed in the distance as Monet pointed his pistol and managed to pick off a wounded Jengal, who had been hit by one of Rocky's stray bullets. Monet could only glance up after the howl just in time to see another group of Jengals. Where the hell were they? Monet was sure this was the way to Saint Jacques. Cursing under his breath, Monet ran over to Urban's Branhim, the one he fondly called Bessy and took off its bag. Tossing it back to the clearly shaken Urban, Monet kicked Bessy in the back, causing her to spur on.

"Rocky! Move!" Monet shouted to Rocky as another group of Jengals, this one being led by a grey Jengal with bright white stripes all over its torso, sprinted down the hill in an outflanking motion.

Monet turned quickly and fired off his pistol in rapid succession, taking down two before sprinting behind a rock and taking out the stimpack from his left shoulder. The wound was a lot better now, but it was still tender and raw and Monet highly doubted that he could use it. Reloading as fast as he could, Monet could see the Jengals creeping up on Rocky, but were obviously more interested in the charging Branhim now.

[SaintB]

Rocky

"Tell me Monet, is this whole state as fucked as this place?"

This was the deciding factor; today was definitively a bad day. He knelt and switched the fire selector on the rifle to single and took careful aim - his shooting might attract more critters but there wasn't much of a choice right now was there? "You two stay back and pick up the ones I can't get, I'll go point on this!"

He opened fire, carefully plunking away one round at a time as the jengals rushed the trio, yapping and yowling with excitement at the prospect of fresh meat over the rotting remains of a scavenged carcass and if they were like the dogs or coyotes they seemed to descend from they were probably communicating with each other. Maybe they were just going after the big juicy brahman that was with Urban it wouldn't bugger Rocky one iota if the slavers beef was killed; but the chances of that were not good enough that he was going to let a bunch of wild hungry animals charge him without fighting back himself. His first shot hit the lead animal in the chest next to it's right leg and sent it flipping head over tin cups where it whimpered and then remained still. In the dark though getting shots like that with any regularity was a difficult task and his second and third shots hit dirt while the fourth hit one in the ear and made it lose some of its enthusiasm for the hunt. The fifth shot was met with a yelp from somewhere in the pack but Rocky wasn't sure where or why and finally number six took out another of the jengals as they rushed forward but the gap was closing fast and there where still at least five of them to contend with...

"The Front", Northern Louisiana

Monet looked back at Rocky firing at the Jengals. He probably would run out of bullets before all of the Jengals were dead. A howl echoed in the distance as Monet pointed his pistol and managed to pick off a wounded Jengal, who had been hit by one of Rocky's stray bullets. Monet could only glance up after the howl just in time to see another group of Jengals. Where the hell were they? Monet was sure this was the way to Saint Jacques. Cursing under his breath, Monet ran over to Urban's Branhim, the one he fondly called Bessy and took off its bag. Tossing it back to the clearly shaken Urban, Monet kicked Bessy in the back, causing her to spur on.

"Rocky! Move!" Monet shouted to Rocky as another group of Jengals, this one being led by a grey Jengal with bright white stripes all over its torso, sprinted down the hill in an outflanking motion.

Monet turned quickly and fired off his pistol in rapid succession, taking down two before sprinting behind a rock and taking out the stimpack from his left shoulder. The wound was a lot better now, but it was still tender and raw and Monet highly doubted that he could use it. Reloading as fast as he could, Monet could see the Jengals creeping up on Rocky, but were obviously more interested in the charging Branhim now.

Rocky

These things were definitely Rocky's least favorite animal and when you've traveled the length of the east cost of post apocalypse America that was really saying something. Switching to burst fire Rocky let fly two volleys scoring a few hits but then the jengals were too close. One lunged at him and he barely had time to raise up the carbine between them before it got there, the metal weapon deflected its bite and was hard enough to stun it for a moment buying the regulator enough time to grab his trench knife - a combination of a combat knife and knuckle duster that was probably Rocky's prized possession, the steel blade was sharp and well maintained and though it was weathered by time the bronze hilt was stamped on one side with the words US 1918 and had the word Cutter crudely chiseled into the other - a true relic if their were such things. He stabbed the jengal under the jaw and felt the rush of hot blood splash onto his arm before he withdrew and let the animal fall then reached and drew his pistol with the left hand while he twirled and let his duster coat billow out to draw the attention of the other nearby animals and distract them from biting at his actual extremities and spotted the cover being used by Monet.

He shot another jengal twice with wounds that would be fatal with time and immediately incapacitating before he made a break for it and tried to dash toward D's rock when a sudden heavy weight knocked him off balance. The grey jengal with white stripes had decided it didn't want hamburger just yet and instead wanted a real challenge, that challenge was Rocky. The regulator brought the pistol up to fire but the alpha lunged for his throat and Rocky instead interposed his left arm between himself and the creature which dutifully bit down as hard as it could while the two of them fell to the ground. As the animal clenched it's jaw Rocky felt pressure and heard a snap and silently hoped that it was just the cracking of combat armor bracer beneath the sleeve of the duster he wore (even though if it could crack the ceramic plates it would certainly be able to break his bones) as the animal thrashed his wrist around with so much force it actually jarred the pistol from his hand and sent it flopping off in the direction of Desire and Urban. Rocky tried to resist and pull the animal closer to him but it had the advantage of leverage while he was stuck on his back and the strongest damn jaw... he punched and stabbed at it with the knife and managed to score a few hits but nothing that deterred the mutant beast from it's attack.

He was in a pickle, the jengal weighed too much and was thrashing too hard for Rocky to get the leverage to push it off or stand up and he could feel the muscles and tendons in his left arm straining. His arm might even have been broken but the adrenaline pumping through his body would prevent the pain from kicking in just yet but not the dull ache from the wrestling match with the monstrous mutt. Desperately he tried to roll onto his side and swung his right hand as hard as he could in a hay-maker punch that landed square against the alpha jengal's eye socket. There wasn't any way to be certain how much damage he caused but it got the damn thing to fucking let him go for an instant and gave Rocky a chance to crab walk a few feet back before the animal lunged again. He was still in the dirt and on his back but now he was prepared for the bastard this time...

[SaintB]

Hey baby its Crawdaddy with a news bulletin for y'all.

Well brothers and sisters it seems like the authorities in Providence have progress in relation to the shooting death of their former mayor.

A man identified so far only as Samuel came to the authorities with claims he had information on the killing. He was taken to the nearby police precinct and given an interview but brothers and sisters it seems like the Providence PD didn't think his story added up and decided he needed some detaining for further questioning.

It'd not yet an official arrest but it seems poor Samuel is not going anywhere in the immediate future. Funny thing about trying to fight the law, it always seems to win.

[Fascist Russian Empire]

Victor Robinson

After spending around a half hour on business negotiations, Victor had hired the Nightshades' support for the sum of seven hundred and fifty caps, as well as giving them a fifteen percent cut of the spoils of war after Vendetta was taken. It was just about all of his caps, but it wasn't like he was planning on doing anything else with them anyway, and it wasn't like he didn't have any ways to get more caps. With the Nightshades recruited, along with Gunny's dozen men, that put their numbers at sixty five, including Victor, Hugo, and Gunny; they would still be heavily outnumbered, but Victor was counting on quality over quantity, counting on superior soldiers being able to overcome superior numbers. Quality over quantity tactics were obviously something common within the Enclave, considering the Enclave's less than high membership numbers and the Enclave's very much so high quality equipment and training.

"Well, the negotiations are finished, and we can count on the Nightshades to support us. We've gotten the supplies we need, and now we have the manpower we need; we're all set for the assault on Morgan City. Let's not waste any more time, let's go and crush the criminal scum; if we start walking now, we should be able to get there around tomorrow afternoon. They might have a lot of numbers, but it's a matter of quality over quantity; superior soldiers are far more valuable than superior numbers. Now, unless any of you have any objections, let's hit the road." Victor said to Gunny and Hugo following the negotiations with the mercenaries, ready to get the show on the road and launch the attack on Vendetta.

[Neo-Chicago]

Jacob, The Haven Broadcast

"Hellooooooo wastelanders! For those who've forgotten about me, or to any new folks tuning in, it's Jacob Crownley! Now I know you haven't been hearing much from this station, and I know you'll all jump at the chance for back-to-back music, but that's not gonna fly. We still haven't heard much of anything from our friends up in Providence, but I'm sure they're doing just fine. Meanwhile, down here in New Orleans, we found ourselves a hideout of vampires; You know where they were? A big ass hole! Well, that's a bit blunt, they were hiding in a tunnel beneath old Harrah's Hotel. As we speak, they're being executed by Gatekeepers. You're welcome Louisiana, we saved you from waking up to an unpleasant sight right around Twilight Time."

General Isaac, Abandoned Riverfront Expressway Tunnel

The tunnel beneath Harrah's Hotel was part of a planned expressway that would have went straight through the French Quarter had it been built. This fact was unimportant, irrelevant, and unbeknownst to the Gatekeepers as well as the ghouls they were purging from the tunnel. No, the most major concern to both was survival, and as the song Twilight Time reverberated through the large chamber, this concern fueled each shot fired by each side.
"Go back to hell you inhuman bastards!" one of the Knights shouted, spraying a ghoul with bullets from his assault rifle. Shortly after this, the knight was beheaded by a ghoul wielding an axe-like instrument. No one noticed the creature that briefly surfaced in the knee-high water, almost grinning.
"OH MY G-" escaped an inquisitor's mouth before he was torn asunder by the two tusk-like teeth of a gutter, followed by the shrieks of several feral ghouls as another gutter split open the face of one of their brethren. Forms similar to stalagmites and stalactites were present in what could only be called a cavern now, as a result of the deterioration of the concrete over it. The casino floor was almost completely flooded by mud and stagnant waters.
There were now five gutters in all that had surfaced from some unseen underwater hovel within the cavern, and the ghouls were in a frenzy. "Christ, they're everywhere! We've got to-" was another sentence cut short by a gutter's strike. Most of the Knights and Inquisitors had escaped the tunnel, however 10 or so including the general still tried to fight off the gutter threat.
"Got one!" shouted Isaac, disintegrating a gutter. His victory was cut short, however, when a gutter bit into his leg. He had managed to avoid the full brunt of the bite, but had still been bitten by the gutter which had successfully gotten its poison into him. "MEN! I'VE BEEN BITTEN!" he practically screamed, as two knights climbed out of the cavern, picking him up on their shoulders on the way out.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Matt Shaw, Barksdale Air Force Base

Leaning back in a metal chair, Matt downed a bottle of Nuka Cola. He pocketed the cap, and turned on the ham radio he had himself repaired that sat on his desk. Playing with the dial a bit, he finally caught a signal. Unfortunately, it was just a radio station broadcasting some song called Twilight Time. He tried to intercept a signal from Chicago, but failed. He decided to turn it back to the radio station, and to turn on the PA system in the Air Force Base. Walking the base had become a routine for him, and an uninteresting one at that. A raider stood before him, not noticing him yet.
"I don't know what constitutes as a message to 'STAY THE FUCK AWAY' to you, but personally, I'd say the severed head of your buddies should do it." Matt said, belittling the raider, before riddling him with bullets. He severed most of the tendons in the man's neck, and stomped the bone until it gave way. Mounting the raider's head on an empty spot on the fence, Matt looked at his work for several minutes, admiring it. After this, he took the mostly useless items on the man's corpse, and took a cartridge of assault rifle ammo that the man had for no explicable reason. The carcasses of rabbits and other animals hung from a long length of wire, to be dried. He walked past this display, and went back to working on the vertibird, on which progress was minimal so far.

[SaintB]

Ol' Crawdaddy is back with a news bulletin for y'all.

Defiance hasn't made the news in a while but today changes that. You see brothers and sisters it seems that a parlangua managed to make its way on to their grenade and mortar range the other day!

Nobody heard the beast roaming about what with all the explosions and such going on all around them and it remained undetected until of course none other than Thomas Rickers The Command Governor General himself decided he wanted to inspect the troops. He and his command staff had barely made it onto the range before the parlangua got it into her mind to attack somethin'.

The Command Governor General managed to escape unharmed but the commander of his reserve forces Colonel Dorothy Grayson received severe wounds and nae on half a dozen men were killed before the parlengua was felled by about a crate and a half of ordinance being thrown at it. Crawdaddy isn't making that up baby, its written right into the report: ABOUT ONE AND A HALF CRATES OF EXPLOSIVE ORDINANCE.

Anyway man the monster is dead, but so are about six of the city's most promising recruits, and one of the city's two top officers is out of action so it looks like Defiance ain't gonna be taking advantage of Providence's moment of weakness.

That's our segment of the news for today, now back to what you're really here for.

[Ontorisa]

Snip

Snip

OOC: I swear, I feel like I've posted this before.

"The Front", Northern Louisiana

Rocky could play hero all he wanted to, but on his own time when Monet's life was not in danger. Right now however, Monet felt the urge to step up and protect the guy who had just earlier, saved his life from certain death. As the white striped Jengal reared up for the attack, Monet popped up from behind the rocky and fired the pistol six times, three of the rounds hitting the Jengal dead centre in the chest, sending it flying backwards as the Brahmin in the background was jumped on by multiple Jengals, who eagerly tore at the mutated cow's flesh and meat, bloody spraying all over the place.

Hopping over to the knocked over Rocky, Monet pulled him back by the collar just as the Brahmin fell, its agonizing moo squealing throughout the air as the Jengals continued to frenzy over it, tearing pieces of it off as the Brahmin continued to try and resist before fading away and dying. As Monet dragged Rocky behind the rock, he looked him straight in the eyes, grinning.

"Some John Wayne shit you just pulled off there sir," Monet made the reference to a movie he had seen in a public restaurant back during his childhood, an old movie called Die Hard, really old actually. "Come on, the Brahmin will buy us a little time for us to get out of here."

[SaintB]

Snip

OOC: I swear, I feel like I've posted this before.

"The Front", Northern Louisiana

Rocky could play hero all he wanted to, but on his own time when Monet's life was not in danger. Right now however, Monet felt the urge to step up and protect the guy who had just earlier, saved his life from certain death. As the white striped Jengal reared up for the attack, Monet popped up from behind the rocky and fired the pistol six times, three of the rounds hitting the Jengal dead centre in the chest, sending it flying backwards as the Brahmin in the background was jumped on by multiple Jengals, who eagerly tore at the mutated cow's flesh and meat, bloody spraying all over the place.

Hopping over to the knocked over Rocky, Monet pulled him back by the collar just as the Brahmin fell, its agonizing moo squealing throughout the air as the Jengals continued to frenzy over it, tearing pieces of it off as the Brahmin continued to try and resist before fading away and dying. As Monet dragged Rocky behind the rock, he looked him straight in the eyes, grinning.

"Some John Wayne shit you just pulled off there sir," Monet made the reference to a movie he had seen in a public restaurant back during his childhood, an old movie called Die Hard, really old actually. "Come on, the Brahmin will buy us a little time for us to get out of here."

OOC: Been there.

Rocky

"This John Wayne character sounds like he'd make a hell of a Regulator." Rocky smirked back.

Now that he had been literally dragged from his mortal combat with that big Jengal it dawned on him that the cracking sound he heard wasn't bone or armor it was him biting through the toothpick he had holding between his teeth and absently picked the end that was still in his mouth out before tossing it (more John Wayne shit). Now that he had time to take stock of the situation he was perfectly fine save for some gravel in the back of his trousers. "So what's the next move? We just make a run for it?"

Poor Bessy, that was a bad way to go even for a slaver and a particularly cruel fate for the innocent brahmin that was his unwitting accomplice but at least it wasn't him on the menu, "Making a run for it sounds like a good move."

[Kazarogkai]

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

I looked upon the simple man who stood before me speaking in his tribal tongue groveling on his knees before me. The man in question who stood before me was none other than a chief who's village was apart of the Montou-Confederacy. Why was here you may ask with the reason being simple enough, politics. The second oldest profession, and not much different than the first if I say so myself. He stood before me as a result of the great war that had been going on in the area, known as the Whisper-Montou war for all intents and purposes. Who started doesn't really matter for all that matters is that the Whispers appealed to help from me and I decided to get involved and assist them in fighting a rather large tribal confederacy Known as the Montou-Confederacy which desired to wipe them from the face of this land, probably for some alleged slight or some other bull like that. Let me reiterate the point, tribals are weird, no getting around it. But that is the situation I had put myself in by staking a claim in this land so I have to deal with it. The Chief known as Pete who was of Bryceland Village lay before me groveling on his knees like a dog. Since his village was the furthest from the remainder of members of the confederacy and the one closest to the front they had taken the brunt of the fighting in their lands. Scorched earth tactics and total-war had taken their toll and the people of the village had enough and were willing to surrender despite pressure from the remainder of the Confederacy to fight on. My militants were an effective force that bought powerful weapons to the field that was difficult for the Confederacy to take on out in the field even in the best of circumstances let alone now. The grip that the Confederacy had on it's members was beginning to erode overall with many member villages outright refusing to send their warriors to aid in any new offensive campaigns into what had turned into a virtual meat grinder for their own forces. though their overwhelming numbers prevented me from engaging them out in the open generally forcing me to hit them in small coordinated assaults and then have my forces retreat back to are fortified home of Arcadia which the Montous knew full well they could not really engage against. What was occurring right now may be the beginning of what was to come in time.

Back to the situation at hand. When the chief was finished with his blathering I gave the signal to the young son of Chief Pete, his name being Calvin. To bad for Chief Pete I had made a deal with Calvin promising him Chiefdom of Bryceland Village in exchange for killing his father and overall coming under my domain. I had made the deal with Calvin for honestly he was not the most intelligent to say the least of the Chiefs many children and would make a far less threatening figure to have in control of the village in contrast to his father who admittedly had been a somewhat effective leader considering the circumstances. He was strategically just a better choice to have as a figurehead. When the signal was given, a simple wink of my left eye and a thumbs up Calvin and the other guards loyal to him that had accompanied the Chief as his entourage killed his father rather brutally with their spears. Calvin went up to his father and shot him in the head with a crude muzzle loading pistol and grabbed the staff his father Pete had carried as a badge of office and proclaimed himself as Chief. Calvin kneel before me and stated his vow of vassalage unto me and so did his honor guard. I readied a small force of mine and we began are march to Bryceland Village to enforce are Coup.

A little while later

My forces and I marched into the village with Calvin and his honor guard marching in front. At first the villagers had readied themselves for battle but then when they saw Calvin had the Chief's staff they went out without a fight. Well not completely honestly, a few of the late Chief Pete's troops agitated and caused a small mob to form but this was quickly dispatched by my troops disciplined fire and the help of a grenade launcher. Calvin announced the start of a feast which me and the troops stayed to see, he also under my instruction sent a messenger to the Montou to announce his villages leave from the confederacy and joining of my domain as an auxiliary village. This being meant with anger and resignation from the Confederacy vowing to avenge Chief Pete and see that Bryceland Village be "liberated" from my control and returned to it's rightful place as a member of the Confederacy. When the feast was over Me and my militants returned to Arcadia though I left behind a member of my staff to function as an Overseer and a few of my troops to "assist and advise" the Chief Calvin.

[Elerian]

Providence Slums

The old woman looked around her shack, as if the killers would burst through the very walls at any moment. Then when she was satisfied looked back to Jessie. "Nothing much. Swamp and tiny villages here and there. I'd advise you not to set foot off that bridge, strange things are afoot." The old woman suddenly stood and shoo'd Jessie from her shack. Once Jessie was out the door, the lady said "Broussard Bayou, don't go alone."

Providence, Council Chambers

The Marshal stood when all those in favor had voted. "It seems we will be seeking peace then. I will set about recalling our assets from No-Man's-Land and put them to work bringing to justice the raiders and murderers." The Marshal nodded "I believe we're done here, unless anyone would like to speak we should get about our duties." He looked at the assembly to see if there were any takers.

Sokarus
I-10

Sokar looked at Sawbones, perplexed at his outbursts. He was an odd travelling companion, however Sokar was already starting to like him. It would likely be strange when he no longer had his malfunctions. Sokar walked along through the brush with Dog hot on his heels, following Sawbones. It would take another day of walking to reach Providence with no interruptions, which Sokar believed to be likely. Once the tribals figured out what had happened back at the site of their ambush they would likely be back, and with many more men than before. Or Sokar could just be paranoid.

[Tayner]

Gunny Smith


" Ok Victor, were gonna move like lightning down some back roads. When we arrive, I suggest we hire some mercenaries there to even add some more power to our ranks. If we find caravans on the way too, we hire them. Were gonna roll in, and fuck shit up. If that's your plan." Gunny said to his partner. He then pulled out an old map of the state.

" Were gonna move down these roads, here and here, then take these dirt roads here. These are along some caravan routes, so we should run into some caravaners. After we get to here, we should have a straight shot to the city." He pointed out a route that was rather safe.

"We do need some caps though. So if we stumble upon an old gas station or something, we loot it. Everything, scrap metal, cash registers, floor tiles, everything. Attack raiders on sight and take their gear. If it's worth a cap, take it." Gunny said. He then said "Let's rock and roll." And walked down a cracked asphalt road.

[Transoxthraxia]

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

---

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

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

[SaintB]

Hey there brothers and sisters! Crawdaddy is back and that of course means its news time baby!

Way up north where my radio signals barely reach in the Texarcana region The Bundle of Knives who recently took over Arcadia have found themselves embroiled in local politics and got stuck in the middle of a war between the Montou Confederation and a smaller tribe known as The Whispers. Crawdaddy's sources say that they have inherited a long and bitter conflict that will not likely be ending any time soon.

Well baby; Crawdaddy Jenkins likes to say "When you chose to live by the gun..." Well that's pretty much as far as Crawdaddy got with that one...

[SaintB]

Rocky
Florida Parishes - The Front, St. Jaques,

St. Jaques was pretty much just like the other countless settlements that dotted the wastelands of the former United States with only one key difference as far as Rocky could tell - the entire town was lit up about as bright as if a fatboy had detonated right in the middle of it and was frozen in space-time! Rocky imagined that it must have been about as bright as the New Vegas Strip (but he'd never seen it himself) and all this must have been in order to keep the denizens of the night out of the town limits. The bonfires and spotlights that achieved this feat were visible from behind a ridge more than a mile away and acted as a beacon to draw him along with Urban and Monet. As they approached the edge of town another spotlight was shined from somewhere behind the halo of light toward the trio but instead of the usual kind of 'who goes there' challenge a woman's voice cried out, "What the hell are you doing out there?"

"We've been shooting our way from the damn border through poachers and jengals, my two comrades here are wounded from all the confrontations and I'm not so sure I ain't hurt either!" Rocky shouted back and raised his hands up in a submissive gesture.

"Damnit just get in to the light before the damn backkush make a meal outta ya!"

Rocky was not about to argue with whomever was behind the beckoning voice, "Yes ma'am!" he answered and headed for St. Jaques Proper with his traveling companions.

[Kazarogkai]

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

We had approached the settlement under the cover of the blue hour that lies between the night and the day before the shining eye of the divine rose from it's slumber to open up and scorch the land and illuminate all like truth. Light, truth and justice, which is a result of truth, be intimately related for truth and justice thrives in the light while deception and ignorance thrive in the darkness. In the dark are bad intentions and deception of the small settlement were hidden away from view were we wore clever disguises like Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves. Quiet was the word and silence it's ingenious effect upon are column as we solemnly marched upon the still mostly sleeping settlement of people. Up the little hill we went making are way up until the signal was sounded when we would begun are charge up to the city upon the mountain who's name comes from the biblical lands.

One could say the Band of 50 that I led was rather overkill for the job Of taking on a settlement of what was only maybe 80 people, many of which had fled for safety as a result of the nearby war. But one can never be sure, I wished this to be a quick and efficient conquest of this little Settlement that would end rather quickly and allow me to set up and fortify in a timely fashion. I had my eye on taking this settlement seeing it as a step towards securing the area around me and a stepping stone towards the eventual conquest of the Settlement of Gibsland which was rather large and prosperous, as places in this area went, and would be a difficult fruit to pick. I needed to cut off the confederacies direct access to It so that it would not fall under the influence and be a pain in my back. All of this was part of a grand plan to bring under the entire northern section of the former Parish lands under my domain and unite it. I had grander ambitions than that obviously but baby steps as one may say. I left one of my captains in control of Arcadia and another one who was to have command over field operations against the Confederacy while I was gone doing my bloody work, as was usual. My commanders were a loyal and tough lot who I had since my Mercenary captain days, and in a handful of cases my bandit days. Loyalty was a value I cared deeply about but merits were important too as incompetence could be just as deadly as disloyalty. It didn't take very long but we eventually heard the sound of a shrill horn, signal had sung it's song and my Officers gave their troops the command to fire which they did in a torrent of noise and flash that caused the lights within the settlement to awaken and the blood curdling screams of innocents to sound through the night.

Blood shall spill upon the holy ground of this land.

[SaintB]

The Boat People

Just about once a year, more precisely every 8 or 9 months, comes the boat people. An armada of small homemade rafts and boats that make essentially a floating city of traders and craftsmen. Like gypsies of the ocean the boat people float along the coastal currents from the island of Q-ba up and around the Florida Panhandle to the bayous of Louisiana, the Texas Blood Coast, and down into Mexico until they are brought once again to the start and end point of their journey. There are several hundred boat people who live their entire lives and even raise their families on these boats and rafts and make stops along the coast to trade goods and services in exchange for food, medicine, and caps. Now is the time where the boat people make their annual stops in Rat City and Vendetta. The settlements will see a huge boost in trade and an almost equally large boost in crime for the week or two that the boat people will be staying.

Arcadia

While their commander is away women, children, and elderly refugees begin to trickle into Bundle of Knives' territory. There are not many, in fact no more than twenty or thirty of them. Among them a single warrior who can speak decent English who has been mortally wounded. Before he dies he tells the swift and brutal retribution of the Montou Confederation upon Bryceland. He describes a slaughter of all the hunters and warriors and how the village was ransacked and pillaged and only those that fled before the carnage avoided death or slavery. Scouts discover that nearly 200 Montou warriors are skirting around Arcadia to attack the settlement of the Whisper Tribe.

[Chrysaor]

Victor Robinson

Hugo was nervous. The past few days were a kind of torment he had not faced in years. He had been turning in his sleep and then woke up drenched in cold sweat. Even having an Enclave soldier and his gangs around didn’t much calm Hugo’s nerves. He dreaded that it would show on his face or in something he said.

It was the fear of exposure and capture. For so long to hear nothing and then to suddenly hear the name Caesar’s Legion discussed aloud rattled him more than he’d ever expected… Or maybe was just the side-effect of the stealth-boy? Either way, for now he grinned as Victor talked, for now they were marching. The Enclave soldier spoke well and now they got a mercenary band behind their backs and a clear target on the horizon: Vendetta.

The whole thing was ridiculously ambitious and not something the ex-legionnaire would voluntarily do normally. But then again this was no normal circumstance plus Hugo did need to take his mind other worries and there weren’t any better distractions than a suicide mission.

“I believe this is as good as we’re going to get. Let’s get this show on the road huh?” Hugo said as the rag-tag siege squad headed towards their destination. They walked in quiet discipline for a while before he grew restless once more.

He glanced at Victor.

“Y’know, I’ve heard that the Enclave would like to kill me for being a mutant.” Hugo mumbled. “A mainlander mutant - like I didn’t grow up in no vault or nothing. I heard that you guys are wrapped up in this idea of, of the survival of the pure human race. That you believe how everyone else, like me or like Gunny over there, was contaminated…and contagious.

Now…it would really comfort me if you say that’s all bullshit. I know how Johnny NCR likes to spread their propaganda and I could care less what the men of California think, especially now that we’re in Louisiana. I want to hear it from you Vic.”

“If you don’t want to tell me then, ah well…” Hugo shrugged and smiled with gentle confidence. “I’m sure I can prove to you that I’m a real man.”

[Fascist Russian Empire]

Victor Robinson

Victor frowned a little as he heard Hugo talk about the Enclave's quest to purify the wasteland, not that anyone would be able to see it behind his helmet. It wasn't entirely false, either; the Enclave was, in fact, going to kill just about everyone on the mainland before having their oil rig blown up and their plans foiled. Of course, while there were still those in the Enclave that wanted to kill the wastelanders off along with the rest of the mutants and ghouls, Victor wasn't in the kill-everyone camp of the Enclave; Victor was much more in line with Colonel Autumn's camp of the Enclave, having significantly less genocidal lines of thinking.

"I'm not gonna lie, we had a lot of people on our hit list, and were planning on killing quite a few people before our oil rig got sabotaged. However, that plan failed, decades ago, before I was even born, and we've moved on from such radical ambitions. The only ones we have plans to kill now are actual mutants and ghouls, and you don't look like a mutant to me. There are, admittedly, still some more radical members of the Enclave, that think for some reason that simply being exposed to radiation makes somebody impure, despite the existence of rad-away and despite them not actually being mutated, but I, and quite a few other Enclave members, don't buy into that garbage. Our goal is purification, not genocide; I'm not going to kill you, or anyone else for that matter, simply for being born in the wasteland. So long as you aren't a mutant or a ghoul, and so long as you aren't an enemy of the Enclave, I have no reason to put you on my hit list." Victor explained to Hugo.

Victor really did find it rather ridiculous and, frankly, far fetched for certain Enclave members to want to kill almost everyone who hadn't lived their entire lives in a vault. Mutants, and ghouls, he could understand, since they were threats to humanity and their extermination would be beneficial, but killing absolutely everyone who had been irradiated, mutant or not, would be an utterly ridiculous concept. Victor had no intentions whatsoever of trying to wipe out the entire wastelander population; he wanted, simply, to see the Enclave rise to power and see pre-war America restored. Killing the vast majority of the wasteland's population wouldn't help out with that goal, not even in the slightest, and it would only give the Enclave a reputation as mass-murderers; they already had a reputation as attempted mass-murderers, considering the failed project to exterminate the mainland's population that was foiled when their oil rig was blown up, and reinforcing that infamy would only hurt the Enclave in the long run.

[Ontorisa]

snip

Saint Jacques, "The Front", Northern Louisiana

Hearing the sounds of his people, Monet eagerly moved forward towards the brightly lit up town, to the sounds of people he knew. They mostly spoke Cajun French here, however, that was fine with Monet as it made no difference to him as long as it didn't kill him. Stepping into the small town, he was soon lost in the small maze of houses as people glanced out of their shacks' windows to look at him before closing them again. The people who were out, were armed with hunting rifles, pistols and shotguns, nodding their heads to Monet and acknowledging him but keeping their eyes on Rocky and Urban.

OOC: Very short post. Sorry.

[Neo-Chicago]

Jacob, The Haven Broadcast

"Helloooooooo wasteland! Jacob Crownley here, coming at you live from the Big Easy, in the heart of New Orleans! I have one job, and one job only, and that is to inform you of the Gatekeepers while playing some sweet tunes. Unfortunately, I've failed at one of those tasks. I haven't been bringing you news about the Providence Chapter. For all I know, they could be in the digestive tracts of a group of Lakelurks or something, because it's pretty difficult to communicate, besides floating a bottle down the Mississippi. Anyone who wants to help fight the vampire scourge, head on down to the Haven of St. Louis down in New Orleans and enlist. I'll try to bring you up to speed on what's been going on ever since Jeremiah and the others went up the Mississippi doing the Riverboat Shuffle.

Senior Knight Matthias, St. Joseph Cathedral

Matthias threw the match, and the flame trailed towards the stone monolith of a building. The shishkebabs that had been drained of fuel, those that belonged to those now dead, formed a sizable pile nearby the building. As he did this, his fellow Gatekeepers stood and watched solemnly from the Natchez. Samuel had not returned from his excursion to the Mayor's Office, and now it was time to burn their bridges, so to speak. The sun was at the precipice of night, and was now retreating beneath the horizon. No one spoke as the slowly dwindling armor-clad soldiers and the rag-tag band of refugees that were the citizens of the Gatekeepers.
"Where do we go now?" inquired Sarah, breaking the deafening silence.
"Where can we go?" responded Abraham, the eldest of the Senior Knights.
"I suppose we can follow the river north. I for one am not going to come crawling back to the hellhole that Rat City's become." Matthias told the others.
Sarah thought of saying something along the lines of Become? That's a laugh., but decided that it wasn't the time of sarcasm. "I agree. Whatever's up there must be better than this place." she spoke, ignorant of just how wrong that statement was.
Most of the other Gatekeepers offered grave nods, and some murmured in agreement. Several looked as though they were going to object, although none of them actually spoke out.
"Then we're in agreement." Matthias affirmed, and as he did this, the band of outcasts began to board the Natchez. Matthias awaited the hum of the engine, and when it came, he steered the boat as Jeremiah had before. He tossed Jeremiah's last pack of cigarettes over the side of the riverboat. As the carton became waterlogged, and the Mississippi swallowed up the word "Morley", it seemed to say something about the Gatekeepers' actions.

General Isaac, Harrah's Casino

Isaac blacked out almost immediately after he was carried through the gaping hole in the foundation of Harrah's Casino. Knight Dawson impaled the offending gutter that had practically torn off Isaac's leg with his shishkebab, which he was unable to retrieve from the gutter's corpse. Dawson then fired his laser rifle almost to the point of over-heating, and collapsed a large portion of the ceiling onto the tunnel opening, crushing several vampires in the process. This collapse took a chunk out of the exterior wall, giving the Gatekeepers a viable escape route. Half a dozen Knights and Inquisitors had been killed by the frenzy of the ghouls and Gatekeepers to escape the threat of the gutters, simply by being trampled to death.
"Up there, we can jump through that hole in the second story wall! The swamped ground will probably cushion our fall!" exclaimed Dawson, as he and Knight Theo scrambled up the rubble, Isaac in tow. Knight Dawson was half-right. The ground had cushioned his fall, but Theo had the misfortune to land on a surviving slab of concrete, breaking or at least severely straining his right ankle.
"Agh, my god!" he screamed, toppling over onto the pavement. The "H" of Harrah's cam unhinged, landing inches away from Theo. Both of them momentarily forgot about Isaac, who had begun to sink into the swampland.
"Theo, the General... he's... he's sinking!" Dawson cried out, in an almost comically inept manner. Each knight grabbed one of Isaac's arms, and freed him from the marsh's icy depths. They returned to the Haven of St. Louis shortly afterward, with an uneventful journey.

Matt Shaw, Barksdale Air Force Base

Matt had tuned into another radio station, sighing as he expected to find another signal. The Enclave communication channels had been abnormally quiet in the past week. He looked out his window, at the ruins of Shreveport. It was then that a wave of nostalgia hit him, that day 3 years ago, when black smoke billowed from those ruins. He was fully aware of the settlement that had been there. He had walked nearby it that day he came upon the ruins of Shreveport, when he was 15 years old. Matt had in fact regularly visited the village up until that day in 2274 when it went up in flames. The very people that were most likely responsible for him not losing his ability to speak English, or degenerate some other way into some near-primal creature. The fire had sent him into hysterics, flashbacks to his youth, that day... the panic, the chaos... That was probably the closest thing he had ever experienced to a panic attack, although it was probably far worse than most.
After that day, he began killing all those who trespassed on the Air Force Base without good reason, the common bandits and garbage, the likes of which had probably burned the small settlement of... Oxru, he believed, named after something on a sign. They had used working vehicles, dwarves compared to the wrecked cars, but still transportation nonetheless. The citizens of Oxru had fought off attackers with steel clubs, some of them splintering and yet impaling the enemies regardless. But that was all in the past now, Oxru was just burnt rubble. If he had been there, he would have chained the assailant to one of the vehicles of Oxru, and dragged him along the long stretches of gravel, eventually unchaining him and forcefeeding him one of the clubs of Oxru. That was a fantasy for him, his way of stopping injustice. The injustice of Alexander, of the anonymous man, of the raider who's head now had a large steel point exiting it... All of them. Once the United States was returned to its former glory, these things would become a reality... common criminals no more, since they wouldn't be so common. This was what Matt hoped, anyway. He sighed once more, and pulled down the blinds.

[Kazarogkai]

Arcadia, Bienville Parish, Louisiana
The Bundle of Knives
Cornelius's Staff

The villagers were received well given food, water, and even shelter in one of the barracks were Cornelius's troops rested until homes could be fashioned for them among the many homes of the old Ruins of this Sentiment upon a mountain. Originally tribal allies they would now be received as civilians within the fold of Cornelius's Domain and would be treated like any other without discrimination if they so wished to. The former settlement of Bryceland could theoretically be rebuilt and the people returned but it would never be the same for Cornelius would be in command of such an operation and would rule it just like any other Settlement under his command. But that was an issue for another time for a pressing concern had come upon Cornelius's staff who were without their commander forced to make a decision that would have the potential to change everything. The news of the size of the Montou warband simply put meaning into why Cornelius's forces were generall advised to not to engage the Montou forces out in the open which was the reason for why the war had turned into what it was with Cornelius's forces occasionally leaving the safety of their walls to make the occasional probe at the Montou and then quickly retreating to safety. The viciousness of the attack on Bryceland illustrated the shear nature of the confederacies wrath but it also showed something else, desperation. In order to keep their members in line they had had to make an example of a sacrificial lamb of sorts in a very bloody and public spectacle, it also showed their need to show their strength towards all outside forces and compensate for their defeats and numerous mistakes in the face of a powerful adversary.

The Staff debated in a hurry knowing full well that time was not on their side until eventually they were able to come up with a decision and a plan of operation. The general goal was agreed that they needed to save the Whisper tribe from destruction as they were a strong ally and their loss would be a major blow to their momentum. The First thing that was agreed had to be done was send a group of fast messengers to send a general alert to both Cornelius's Party in the field but also to the Whispers to give them general warning of what is happening. The Montou warband being so large it was believed they probably would be traveling a little slowly through the rough brush that characterized this land and that their messengers would be able to make the mission. The 8 Messengers were sent in 2 groups of 4 with one group traveling to Cornelius's forces and the other 4 traveling to rouse the Whisper camp. A general plan was made that would involve both of the captains currently in command. Capt. Batholomew who was placed by Cornelius in direct command of the settlement of Arcadia in his absence would remain at his post and secure the rear from any further Montou Forces that may decide to show up and either stop or if unable severely harass them. Capt. Clay who had been put in place by Cornelius to command field operations would gather up the majority of disposable forces and lead them to oppose the Montou warband to assist the Whispers in the defense of their camp. Cornelius had with him 40 Fighting and 10 Support troops total at his disposal and there were also 4 fighting and 4 support troops who were part of the messenger parties that had left. This left left 76 Fighting and 24 Support troops in Arcadia itself. Capt. Clay it was decided would lead 50 of these fighting and 15 of these support troops to wage his Campaign against the Montou war party while the remainder would stay at Arcadia under Capt. Batholomew to defend the settlement and oppose any incoming Montou reinforcements. Such the plan was made and the troops made their way to battle, some of them for the first time. But in the shadows lurked a sneaky an unseen enemy that bided it's time to strike...

Another place another time

Mount Lebanon, Bienville Parish, Louisiana
The Bundle of Knives
Warlord Cornelius White

Before me stood my goal, my enemy defeated and subjugated beyond all doubt. The battle had barely lasted 30 minutes catching the local Sheriff and his small band of deputies off guard. The initial assault team I sent in surreptitiously to sabotage their abilities had been successful in it's endeavor that when the Sheriff and his deputies had made their way over to their HQ after the initial shots had rang out they were when they arrived met with a very strong force that had taken over the HQ and in effect the armory of the settlement and who deiced to open fire upon the Sheriff and his men. Despite this setback a few of the locals attempted to get their personal weapons to battle my troops but this was in vain as we quickly swept in before they could organize an effective resistance and their fighting capacity was swiftly liquidated with little challenge. Rather bloodless honestly in comparison to recent days with my forces only suffering about 3 wounded, my adversaries on the other hand lost their sheriff and a deputy who were killed in the shoot out at HQ and finally 2 other locals who died trying to organize resistance to my forces. We had been spending the day resting and licking are wounds when the messenger party arrived to inform me of the situation that had unfolded. I thanked them for their service and silently did the same for my staff who had taken the initiative. I organized my forces into two groups. One which would be under command of Capt. Donaldson and composed of 7 fighters(including the 3 injured ones), and 2 support that would be collectively tasked with holding the settlement for me while I was gone. The 35 remaining Fighters and 9 Support would go with me to battle the Montou and meet Capt. Clay and the Whispers. The roll drums sounded and the winds were tinged with a faint scent of blood and dark misery, a prelude to what was to come.

Some time later on the road

As I put upon my troops a forced march in order to make time we met on the road the Whisper people who had come along having been advised to make their way to Mount Lebanon where I had previously been stationed. Me and my troops went to the side to make way for the Whisper party. Elders of the Whispers made their way to me rather quickly and spoke that they had received the message an hour or so before the Montou were to arrive which barely gave them enough time to pack their goods up. A few brave Whisper warriors had decided to go and skirmish the Montou war party in order to give their people some time to escape allowing the bulk of them to escape though a few stubborn old fools decided to stay, both the warriors and the old fools were all presumed dead. I elected to have what remained of the Whisper warriors follow me and my band into battle while sending both the Whisper Civilians and my 4 messengers who would lead them the way to Mount Lebanon for safety. This bulked up my force to 55 Fighting men and 9 Support as of now which was a capable force but may not be enough.

A little after that

We had finally reached the Whisper camp which had been are destination and found the situation grim. The Montou forces had come through here and leveled half the village before they withdrew. Their abrupt departure was a result of Capt. Clay's Group arriving and striking them from behind almost unexpectedly. To be fair to the Montou leadership they had wisely chosen to only commit a handful of their troops to the destruction of the Whisper Camp keeping a significant body in reserve which when they were attacked allowing them to respond more quickly than one would of expected. Capt. Clay had wisely chosen to withdraw after a rather brief but bloody skirmish with the Montou forces whose reserve units and most of the engaged units gave chase. Though a few of the troops who engaged showing their poor discipline decided to stay and continue looting, but their greed would be their downfall today. I along with the Whisper warriors struck down upon the handful of scavengers with a righteous fury, their scattered and unorganized forces were no match for my own who systematically hunted them down and exterminated them like rats. Once this was over I reorganized my forces and we went back on the trail to go where we expected Capt. Clay probably retreated, my settlement of Arcadia. Emboldened by are bloody slaughter of are enemies we went along the warpath with the fires within are bellies raging like little suns doused with gasoline.

Outskirts of Arcadia, Bienville Parish, Louisiana
The Bundle of Knives

When Capt. Clay and his troop made it back home to Arcadia they found an unexpected situation with a previously hidden Mountou War party raiding Arcadia. They were just as surprised to see Capt. Clay for they had expected that Cornelius's forces would be widely spread giving them the ability to launch a large raid against Arcadia. They numbered about 100 strong which was a significant force but even then was not enough to really break the powerful defenses of Arcadia, especially by a bunch of tribals chucking spears and shooting crumbling old homemade firearms. Never the less they were being a real pain and when the Capt. Clay's forces arrived it was considered a relief by the defenders until they heard the drums and horns of the Montou war band and knew full well that it was not over in the slightest. What resulted would be a confusing and rather brutal fight that originally started off with the main Montou warband bearing down upon Capt. Clay's forces before they quickly found out that right behind them was Cornelius's troop who swiftly took some of the small hills that surrounded Arcadia which had been ignored by the Main Montou warparty in favor of attacking Capt. Clay's forces directly before being forced to turn to fight Cornelius. Cornelius was a calm commander like that of Hannibal who patiently planned things and waited for his opportunity before taking the initiative. Capt. Clay upon the side of the mountain that Arcadia stood upon decided to concentrate his forces in defeating the Montou raiding party which sought Arcadia and deal with them hoping that Cornelius would be able to hold his own against the main Montou warparty in the meantime. With help from Capt. Clay and Arcadia's defenders the Montou raiding party was hemmed in with their backs to the fortifications of Arcadia and Capt. Clay's relentless assault which practically surrounded them caused their will to break and them to ultimately rout. Capt. Clay decided to only initiate a limited chase of the retreating Montou before gathering a few of the Defenders of Arcadia and making their way to hit the rear of the main Montou War party which Cornelius was battling alone.

Cornelius's part of the battle had for the most part gone in his favor with him being able to hold off the continuous albeit piecemeal attacks that were being waged again his troops. Like before he had the Whispers further down the hill using their excellent melee skills to act as buffer troops to eliminate any Montou that was able to get past the withering fire employed by Cornelius's Militants who were further up the hill using the trees, rocks, and the natural ridges as cover from Montou spear men and the occasional Gun mans rifle. The early death of one of the main Montou chiefs against a Whisper warriors spear when they had been traveling to the Whisper camp had damaged their coordination making them not nearly as effective as they could of been. With fractures already being evident in their forces this became even more evident when Capt. Clay's forces launched his assault on their rear. The Montou front virtually collapsed after an hours worth of fighting with their rear compromised and facing an uphill battle against superior troops and having to suffer an endless barrage from the weapons of Arcadia itself. The War party fractured into peaces with some taking a stand while others attempting to leave. Cornelius's militants being adept in small unit tactics responded by breaking up into smaller organized units who were given the mission of search and destroy against the Montou. It was a confused and brutal mess with hand to hand combat and atrocities on both sides with neither showing much in the way of decency and mercy. Quarter was not given that day nor asked, Heroes were made and died upon the field, and in the hot humid sun all knew the bodies and the bloody gore would be stinking of rot soon and the screams of the dieing would haunt the woods forever more. War is harsh nothing more could really be said about it. It is a brutal sport that is carried on by man from his days in the wild and would continue so long as the wild remains within us which it will always honestly for you may take the animal out of the forest but not the forest out of the animal. War never changes.

Time goes on...

It had been nearly 24 hours of utter havoc and devastation once it was all said and done. It was hard to determine who had truly won honestly for though I held the field that day my losses could be admitted as Pyrrhic physically speaking. The Whispers camp had been half destroyed and looted leaving them virtually homeless, and Arcadia's fortifications
in need of repair. The Whispers suffered the lost of almost all of their warriors and the death of many of it's people reducing them further down which threatened to make them even less of a viable tribe. We were able to drive the Montou off and their losses obviously made them suffer possibly one of their worst defeats in the entire war, they had been badly scarred and bloody but were still a ferocious animal that would need to watched out for but they would probably never dare launch another attack of such magnitude ever anytime soon or ever again. The effect on the troops was more positive for it provided them a strong reminder of their overall abilities and effectiveness when faced with such a foe, it also gave them more trust in the abilities of their commanders when it came down to it but all secretly hoped they would not have to be led in such a blood bath ever again.

The Battle of the Forest
Belligerents
Bundle of Knives
-Whispers(allied)
Montou Confederacy
Commanders and Leaders
Bundle of Knives
-Cornelius White
-Capt. Batholomew
-Capt. Clay
Montou Confederacy
-United Chiefs Council
Strength
Bundle of Knives
*Cornelius's Troop
-35 Fighters
-20 Whisper warriors
-9 Support troops
*Capt. Batholomew
-26 Fighters
-9 support troops
*Capt. Clay
-50 Fighters
-15 Support troops
Montou Confederacy
*Main War party
-200 Warriors
*Raiding party
-100 Warriors
Casualties and losses
Bundle of Knives
*40 total
-20 KIA Cornelius's Militants
-20 KIA Whispers
Montou Confederacy
-Unknown, Estimated 100-200 KIA