NationStates Jolt Archive

(OOC: See OOC for details and signup OOC and Signup (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=579222))

The New World

In late January 2009 the world ended. The global war between Stoklomolvi and GWO turned nuclear and people had to pick sides.

The GWO launched a tactical nuclear attack on Whiskeasy and other Stoklolmolvi alligned states. Main cites and ports were levelled and hundreds of millions died in the opening salvoes. Whiskeasy responded with the complete destruction of GWO and her allies. Soon things spiralled out of control, nations randomly choosing sides and firing nuclear weapons.

Every single nation on NS Earth was hit by the brutal holocaust. A huge ten year nuclear winter ensued, millions more died in Whiskeasy alone. The aftershock claiming millions of people leaving the desolate wasteland of Whiskeasy. The climate became colder and small groups of survivors formed. Some building small communities, which farmed and herded the still fertile land. To begin with radiation was a serious problem, there was no effective medication for this and many caught cancer and died. But about twenty years after the war, radiation was less of a problem. The main cities still had near lethal doses of radiation contained in their concrete wastelands. Small groups of scavengers with military radiation suits dared to enter and they looted what they could. Some of the more desperate groups attempted such feats without any form of protection.

Nearly every person in Whiskeasy wanted a gun. Most got their wish, the Whiskeasian armed forces had just received massive amounts of small arms, as well as that they had large amounts of surplus guns as the ones they were replacing. However after forty years many were destroyed or unusable, but most people could scavenge some sort of firearm. In the countryside most people had owned a shotgun or rifle of some kind, hunting was popular. You needed one, to shoot the ever growing animal population and to defend yourself from the large numbers of raiders and scavengers that would be more than happy to kill the average person and take everything they had. Transportation was now limited to horses and other such animals. The car becoming extinct due to lack of fuel or care.

Most technology went the same way. The EMP from nuclear blasts had destroyed most electronics, anything else had just deteriorated or decayed with time. However some electronics must have survived somewhere.

http://img89.imageshack.us/img89/3732/whiskeasy2tk21wi2.png

OOC: I should just point out, to those involved in the Stoko-GWO war, that this did not actually happen. Whisk is simply using a suggestion I made that this is a possible outcome of said conflict, and is definetly non-canon. Also, sweet intro Whisk.

A large boat cut silently through the waves off the shore of Whiskeasy. It was mainly wood, and appeared to have been built before the war, and had been repaired several times since. It's great white sail had been patched up, and the hull was covered in pieces of metal, covering up holes that had obviously been caused since.

The boat finally slowed down as they reached a small beach. A small inflatable boat was tossed over the side, and three people descened into it. They rowed across to the beach, where the boat slid to a halt. Two of the people exited the boat. A man, in his thirties at least, and a woman, slightly younger than him. The other man remained in the boat, as they recovered their bags of eqiupment. The woman passed him something, which he looked at carefully, and then nodded gratefully, beginning his row back to the ship.

The woman turned back to the beach they had landed on. She wore a heavy black leather coat over her red t-shirt and blue jeans. The man, in stark contrast, wore forest camoflage fatigues, with a light blue beret perched atop his head - the colours of the Ustian Army. Of course, no such organisation existed anymore, and he had probably scavenged them from an old army installation, along with their weapons and other equipment.

As for their weapons, the woman carried a Webley Mk IV (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Webley_Revolver) in her holster, which looked in almost pristine condition. Slung over her shoulder was what appeared to be an AK-47. However, upon closer inspection, it was something completely different. Instead of the signature curving ammunition clip, it had a straight block ammunition clip. It had also been fitted with a telescopic sight, and a bi-pod at the end of its elongated barrel. The man's weapons were similar. In his belt holster, he carried a Luger, whilst over his shoulder was slung an M8, though it had been repaired with the butt stock of an M16, crudely fasioned on with bad welding and duct tape. He turned to his companion.

"Sarah, welcome to Whiskeasy" he said, indicating the landscape before them

"Where do you think we are?" she asked him, joining him on the crest of the hill down to the beach

"I don't know" he replied, picking up his bag and pointing to some buildings, barely visible on the horizon "But we can't be far from the ruins of a city. Let's go see what it's like"

OOC: That would put them somewhere near Killhoman. Also, what is the blue spot in the middle of the map for?

The man was running again. He could here him crashing through the bushes to the left. Mike raised the horn to his lips and gave the call, the other hunters heard him and galloped towards his position. He was sitting on his filly Tara. They were on the track and beneath them in the undergrowth the man was making an escape. Not today thought Mike. He pushed his mount into the bushes, fording the ferns and saplings like he was crossing a river. He was crouched low against the neck of the horse as they careered between stunted oaks and young pines. He caught sight of the man running, cloak billowing around him. He turned saw Mike and scurried away like a frightened rabbit. Mike leaned down for the K29 Carbine in it's holder on the side of the horse. He picked it up one handed and quickly cocked it. As they approached a clearing he slowed Tara to a stop. Took careful aim at the man fleeing before him and shot him twice in the back. The man shouted and jumped forward, arms outstretched in a cross position and then he fell. Mike trotted forward and saw that he wasn't quite dead. He dismounted swiftly and pulled out his long knife. With a quick sawing motion the mans throat was cut and a hiss of blood and air escaped. Mike looked down on the corpse with disdain, couldn't even fight like a man. Two days earlier the man had got drunk at Freevilles tavern The Muddy Seal, and had gone on to rape the young daughter of one of Mikes deputies.

Mike was Mayor and Police Chief of Freeville, he was in charge of running the town which was home to nearly three hundred and fifty people. Freeville was once named Brandyvine but they had given it a new name. It sat on the river between the mountains and the old city of Grouse. The inhabitants were farmers and herders, but of course due to it's size other professions had integrated. They had a bar, restaurant, two blacksmiths, a clinic, a church and a citadel.

The town had a crude palisade around it. It was patrolled by members of the Militia. The towns semi-army. They were expected to do eight hours of service to the town a week and be on standby constantly. The town had suffered many hard ships but for now they were one violent rapist down.

(OOC: In depth description of town will eventually get made)

The bishop Anne Black sat quietly on a bench in the center of the town of New Antioch, looking at the three structures before her. Beside her sat an imam and a rabbi, and together they formed the current ruling council of New Antioch.

The settlement of five hundred and it's outlying villages were the members and offspring of an Abrahamic League mission that had been sent to provide humanitarian aid to the nation of Whiskeasy when the great nuclear exchange had begun. After losing all communication with the Sumguaian homeland, they had settled in area that had been mostly unaffected by the devastation, and had since then grown into a large town, with a constant influx of Whiskeasians seeking safety. It was now, for all it's inhabitants knew, all that remained of the Abrahamic League, and they took their roles as the last surviving remnant

"It is quite beautiful." She said, as the sun dipped below the church, synagogue, and mosque that dominated the center of the town, outlining them in orange light.

"Indeed." said the man sitting beside her. There was silence for a short moment. "We've taken stock of the food stores again." he said, breaking it. "It will be tough, but we should have enough to make it to the harvest."

"I see. Very well." Rev. Black said, taking a thin cigar out of her pocket and lighting it. New Antioch had been in existence for nearly forty years, and while it was coming ever closer to being self-sufficient, was not quite there yet, and so foraging was still a necessity. She only hoped that as the remaining stores of accessible and edible preserved food dwindled, the town's own food production would increase enough to eventually fully supplant them as a source of nourishment. We will manage. We are the Abrahamic League, and it is our duty to shepherd this world into new age of civilization. We cannot falter, we cannot fall.

The group was comprised of about 20 people, most armed with automatic weapons, and those who didn't had hunting rifles.
They had just finished raiding a small group of people, probably trying to find a survivor colony. They had lots of canned food, not to mention a few firearms.
The thundering of their horses' hooves could be heard from the camp.

"HALT! What happens at the end of the game?" asked the sentry
"The king and the pawn both go in the same box." said the man on the lead horse.
"Go on through."

Ziyoshiyua Ashida, an excellent sharpshooter, despite his young age, only 23, left his hut. He was wearing forest camoflauge, useful in the mountains, had a Winchester Model '94 slung across his back, and a combat knife stuck in his boot. His left eye was completely shut, it had been that way from his birth, probably due to the radiation.
"How'd it go?" he asked the leader of the raiding squad
"Pretty good." said the leader, gazing at the encampment of the organization. Most of them had some speciality, many of them were excellent hunters.

OOC: The encampment is about 75 men, and about 50 women and children. The children and those born after the war generally have some unimportant mutation (eg, no hair, no fingernails, etc.) The encampment is in the mountains, where most of the time they hunt game, or go raiding to bolster supplies

"Nah no use, Jimmy, no fuckin use at all mate" said a late teenaged male as he walked out of a barn and towards Jimmy. "No petrol mate, thats what it is" he said, only this time he sounded more annoyed. "Saved all that money to get a brand new, chrome gleaming scoot and then th fuckin powers that be decide to have a bit of a rumble."

Jimmy looked at the man, the man in question was called Chalk and to be perfectly honest he was a bit of a strange one. Chalk stood in front of the barn dressed in a brown polo shirt, with dark blue skin tight jeans and a tweed trillby sat perched on top of his head. These clothes did Chalk no justice in the new world where skinny legs were frowned upon as muscle is now whats needed. The brown polo shirt also did nothing to protect him from the lurking radiation that was everywhere. Jimmy stared at the ground for a moment then checked his bag to see what was left. Tinned peaches, tinned beef and some water purification tables which were now of no use as they could not make iradiated water pure again like the water the world had once known.

"Chalk, we need to head south" said Jimmy compleatly changing subject, "We're running out of supplys and i hear theres a settlement of some sort." Jimmy looked straight into Chalks eyes, he quietly nodded. The original plan had been to start their own settlement but the day had come when plan B was forced into effect, if they could not find enough people and a substanable food source then they would be forced to join another colony and become another target for raider groups.

"Jimmy, so where exactly did you get that gun then?" asked Chalk as they treked south in the hope of find other people.

The past forty years had been rough on the crew. They'd started off around twelve strong before the war, fought like demons during it, and all had come through in one piece. Operation Detachment Alpha 401, 1st Argonian National Army Special Forces Group had all survived. They'd even all survived the WMD national purge afterwards.

The real fight had started after the radiation had turned the Black Marsh into a death-pit. Mostly composed of marshes and therefore water, it became inhospitable even after the bombs fell. The fallout made sure of that. They'd lost three due to radiation poisoning, six more to raider attacks over the years, and most recently one to a catastrophic incident involving their ride over. Some old bastard had scavanged an old aircraft and the remaining four operators had jumped at the chance to leave the Fatal Terrain region. After they'd crossed into what used to be Whiskeasy, the damn engine had literally fallen off the fucking plane. The four former operators had scavanged parachutes before they'd left Argonia, and decided to make use of them. Three of them worked, one didn't. Their former team sergeant had burned into the makeshift drop-zone like a comet and died shortly after impact after the dry-rotted webbing on his 'chute had given way under his weight after it had deployed. After surviving a veritable neutron purge of the entire planet, raider assaults, starvation, radiation and forty years worth of hard living, the old fucker had died like any paratrooper would want to: on the drop zone.

They'd buried him where he'd landed, wasn't much else they could do. There were three of them left now, tired and hungry, but they were alive. All were well armed, and had a few canned goods to keep them going. There wasn't a ranking member left, all had held the same rank previously, and since Argonians were particularly long-lived, they'd done away with the rank structure. Uniforms had basically be scrapped minus the faded digital-pattern pants and the patched together boots, but they'd all clung to the body armor. Each wore a standard Eagle-brand plate carrier over a ragged t-shirt, and the Eagle-rig offered a little protection from frontal gunfire, and otherwise held all their ammunition. Names had long been forgotten, each had had a nickname before the war, and that was what they'd used during it. No sense in changing it now.

The first went by Teacher, a name he'd picked up when he'd been serving as a cadre member embedded in the Auxillary Corps long before the war due to his patient attitude and willingness to pass along whatever knowledge he thought would keep his troops alive during whatever action got sent their way. Teacher carried a battered FN FAL, a paratrooper version with a folding stock and shorter barrel. Spare magazines were wedged into his kit mag pouches, clearly designed for something a bit slimmer. The forearm of the rifle was wrapped in green '100 mph' tape, since it had been cracked during his own rough landing. The sling, a crude single-point affair, was made out of several strands of parachute '550' cord. There wasn't an optical sight on the thing, that had also been destroyed during his own mini-crash. It was all iron-sights now. He'd have preferred something with some zoom on it to take advantage of the punch of the weapon, but he really didn't have an option. A well-used M1911 rode in a drop-leg holster on his left side, and it looked a little better taken care of than the FAL. Teacher was built like a runner, toned and tall.

The second was known as Crush, a moniker he'd been given because of his innate ability to down (in military terms 'crush') a case of beer faster than anyone in the ODA, or 1st SOG for that matter. Crush carried an angry-looking paratrooper-sized M249 SAW. Ammo belts were draped across his shoulders like some sort of Rambo-inspired action hero. Magazines for the belt-fed beast were in short supply, and he only had two besides the one already hooked into the weapon. A SERPA holster had been attached to his vest on the left side, which held a beaten-up SIG P226 semi-auto. Crush wasn't quite as tall as Teacher, but he was wider in the shoulders, a powerful individual capable of beating someone to death if they ventured too close.

The last was Zero, the marksman. He didn't say much, and his point of aim never shifted. Hence the title. Zero cradled a decent-looking Kimber bolt-action, a spray-painted 8400AT which was based off of the near-perfect Winchester Model 94 action. The scope had somehow survived the drop, too. Zero was about Crush's height, but more of Teacher's build. A right-handed drop-leg held a Browning Hi-Power semi-automatic, weather-worn and devoid of nearly every bit of its finish around the slide. Zero was also one heck of a gunsmith, one of the biggest reasons their little crew had survived for as long as it did with second-rate weapons and other gear...

"Shame Hoot didn't make it..."

Crush had been pretty close with the senior NCO...

"Yeah, it is bro... Isn't much we could have done for him, least he went out quick..."

Teach attempted to console his brother warrior, but the truth was that he'd been a little stunned himself when he'd seen Hoot's broken body lying in the dirt. When the older Argonian had somehow angled his head and looked Teach in the eye and smiled before he'd expired, that really hit him somewhere deep inside...

"That's all we can ask for..."

Both men were a little surprised Zero even made a comment, but losing a comrade was always hard...

+++++The purge of most of the world happened without the industrial might of the Ennuisian Republic caring. Allied with none, enemies with none, the nation was safe and prosperous while the rest went to hell. That was, until the extent of the fallout from the nuclear death became apparent. The weapons used were primarily in the kiloton range; enough to wipe out ciites, but not enough to blacken the sky on their own. 50,000, on the other hand, could do both. The vast homeland of the Ennuisians, free from French Occupation for a mere hundred years, would crumble from this barely visible threat, though all the government Scientists agreed: the sea of troubles would remain clean. And clean it did remain, for all of six months. Within six months, rioting and insurgency had broken out in Plaines Mornes. The 50 million strong district of Le Vide succumbed to labor and food riots a few weeks later, seceded and promptly launched their entire stock of Home Guard nuclear missiles at the shield city of La Ville D’or and the capital of Mer de Noms. The irony that the very weapons designed to repel an invasion from without had obliterated all semblance of law and order was lost on none. Fifty-Five Megatons incinerated the central government and nearly 300,000,000 citizens who had formerly dwelled in some of the most densly packed metropolises in the civilized world.

+++++Mer des Ennuis had been, and always will be, a Military dictatorship. When the Arch Arsonist burned in the largest fire of all, the nation descended into chaos. The Rigel Array, the most effective AI on the planet and commandant of the Air Force, ceased to function; its bunker unable to handle a 10 megaton direct strike. Desperate to maintain order in the South, Major General Andres Leon declared Martial law and sealed off the border north of Ville d’Espoir, closing a vital chokepoint with machineguns and sandbags. The nation had effectively split in three; desperate civilians and military in the north, a nuclear wasteland that had spread as more cities launched nukes in the central region, and Seven Hundred Million in the south. In their haste to secure a homeland, however, the Army neglected to destroy its secrets. No one is sure who unleashed the Aurora Virus, though the vector: at least one of the infected made it through the barrier. Known as “Satan’s Pox,” Aurora’s 99.97% mortality rate soon reduced a thriving Industrial Giant into derelect cities filled with the desiccating black corpses, all showing signs of auto cannibalism. Of the estimated 1,842,900 humans left standing, nearly 600,000 were trapped on the wrong side of a nuclear wasteland, left to their fate to die of fallout. Only a million told survived the first winter. Of the 26 million military personnel in active duty, a mere 25,000 were left. The Republic had retreated to the one safe haven left: the ancient walled city of Mer de Ville d’Ennuis; kept alive only by grace of uncontaminated soil.

+++++Forty Years Later, the Tribunal, the body that had prevented the utter collapse of organized society, they began to look outwards. Refugees had washed up on shore over the past years, and were often summarily euthanized; their radiation poisoning or a battery of other diseases having progressed that far. Though the city-state of a million was self-sufficient, materials and men were sparse. In the end, ten acolytes of the Masako (http://elhabib.at/wp-content/gallery/27062008-neue-saints-row-2-screenshots/45063_masako_sweep.jpg) cult, a mere shadow of their Death’s Head predecessors and the elite security team of the Tribunal, were given a 130-foot cutter and enough stores to reach the strongest radio signal detectable over the background noise. It took two weeks at the most efficient speed, but the team soon anchored and washed ashore near Kilhorman. Rifles at the ready, they spread out into the unknown.

The two travellers had walked for ages, opting not to follow the roads for fear that the main cities were still too dangerous, if not with radiation then with other dangers, such as damaged and unstable infrastructure. Suddenly, the man called out

"There!" he shouted, pointing at some sort of settlement. It was still a good distance away, but it would be possible for them to walk there in time.

"What is it?" asked Sarah, joining her friend

"I don't know, could be a settlement" the man said, pulling out a pair of binoculars "But it looks makeshift, so it might still be inhabited. Come on, let's see if there's a room for the night"

They continued walking through the grass, heading closer to the town. Soon, the wooden palisades were much clearer in the daylight. They continued walking, though they expected to be stopped by any defenders - these people were likely to be just as jumpy as the rest of them.

Mike trotted back towards the town, dragging behind Tara was the body of Ralph Bondsman. The three deputies he had with him trotted along cracking jokes and generally making banter among one another. He walked along the country road, it was cracked and worn but due to continued use only had weeds growing at the edge of the asphalt.

Mike scratched his arm and looked over to his left. He saw a flash of red in the bushes. He quickly scanned back and saw what looked like two people in the bushes. He put up a clenched fist and the men automatically stopped and went silent, one of the horses fidgeted and was stopped with a touch from it's rider. The couple were still a little way off and he motioned for his men to go back the way they ha come. A couple of hundred meters back and out of sight he dismounted and his deputies did likewise. "Well they aren't towns people. And the trading caravans came through recently. We will get close to them and I will approach them, Dan, Jack you hang back, Fred. Curl round their rear cut of their escape, no firing until we know what they want.

The men swiftly moved to do as he said, Approaching the couple he emerged from the bushes his carbine slung on his back and said in English "Hello there, can I help you two?"

"Well, I must say that it's nice to see a friendly face" the man said to Mike "Well, any sort of face really. Smith, John Smith"

He gestured to his companion

"And this is my friend, Sarah". She gave them a little wave.

Mike relaxed somewhat at that, he whistled and his men started to emerge from the bushes around them. He smiled and said "Please, do not be alarmed. I'm Mayor of Freeville, over yonder. We have to be careful out here the land is mostly fertile and we have plenty to steal. I'm afraid to say we are only here because we shoot first and ask questions later." He glanced towards the town. "Where are you guys from? And what do you need? You should come down the town we will put you up in a room for the night. But I'm afraid you will have to barter for your own food or equipment."

Mike relaxed somewhat at that, he whistled and his men started to emerge from the bushes around them. He smiled and said "Please, do not be alarmed. I'm Mayor of Freeville, over yonder. We have to be careful out here the land is mostly fertile and we have plenty to steal. I'm afraid to say we are only here because we shoot first and ask questions later." He glanced towards the town. "Where are you guys from? And what do you need? You should come down the town we will put you up in a room for the night. But I'm afraid you will have to barter for your own food or equipment."

"I understand" John said, as they joined the mayor's group to head back to Freeville "We came from across the seas, from the United Kingdom of Ustio North, originally. About six months ago, we left our home with several companions, intent on finding survivors"

"We crossed continents, finding small camps and settlements wherever we went" Sarah chipped in "One by one, the friends that we set out with stayed at the camps, untill it was only us left"

John nodded in agreement

"We would be glad of a place to spend the night, mayor. It has been some time since we were able to spend the night indoors"

Mike walked on foot next to his guests as his men rode around them. He nodded and said "Tourists then! Seeing the world? How is it? I would imagine not as nice a place as our sunny vale. The only country I have ever seen is photos from around the world. I rarely leave this valley now, the town needs me."
He looked at them and said "I don't suppose you have any cigarettes? Or tea or coffee? I haven't tasted any of that since I was a boy when we ran out."
He walked alongside them as they approached the gates of Freeville, they were open at this time of the day as people were tending their fields and flocks. It was getting dark though and people started to head back to town and safety. Apart from the few shepherds and ranchers who remained guarding their flocks from wolves and raiders.

Mike walked on foot next to his guests as his men rode around them. He nodded and said "Tourists then! Seeing the world? How is it? I would imagine not as nice a place as our sunny vale. The only country I have ever seen is photos from around the world. I rarely leave this valley now, the town needs me."
He looked at them and said "I don't suppose you have any cigarettes? Or tea or coffee? I haven't tasted any of that since I was a boy when we ran out."
He walked alongside them as they approached the gates of Freeville, they were open at this time of the day as people were tending their fields and flocks. It was getting dark though and people started to head back to town and safety. Apart from the few shepherds and ranchers who remained guarding their flocks from wolves and raiders.

OOC: Was that a sly Fallout 3 reference?

"Tourists?" John pondered the label "I suppose you could say that. I'm afraid i have to dissapoint you, but the rest of the world appears to be in much worse shape than here. Ustio, despite it's attempts to maintain neutrality, was hit hard"

Having reached the town of Freeville, John dropped his bag from his shoulders, opened it and passed a pack of cigarettes and a lighter to Mike, and then a packet of teabags to one of his friends

"We managed to scavenge these before we left home, but we've never had time to use them. I guess we just kept them as bartering tools" He said, picking his bag up again, and continuing into town

"Now, where can we get some rest?"

((OOC: Many more from where that came from!))

Mike looked with sheer amazement at the little packet of gold in front of him. He reverently put them in his pocket and told Fred to go give the tea-bags to the treasurer. The tea bags would be safe their and he could collect some later.

"I'm sorry to hear that your homeland was so devastated. Whiskeasy was hit pretty lightly. We were strategically hit with neutron bombs so radiation is only a problem right next to the sites of the explosion, at least this what Old Jim tells me. Jim was a scientist before the war, he was working on something called 'fusion' don't know what it was but he seems to think it was important. We are so gratefull for these gifts, they are worth a fortune here and I must offer for you and your... wife? To stay in my own house, I will be very happy to explain our little set up over dinner. Perhaps you can tell me of your travels and homeland?" He dismissed his deputies and waited for a reply.

A lone man walked towards Freeville. Well actually, not quite alone, he had a strange man with a sniper rifle following him, not too close, but not too far, making sure he was allright. The man was the Preacher, he had no other name, and he had come to Preach to the citizens of Freeville (any who would listen to his mad ramblings)

Fire bloomed along the horizon as the first rays of the sun crested over the low hills, revealing a blasted, barren landscape. Stunted, twisted trees with branches that grew down instead of up marked the fringes of the landscape, hemming in a large, wide expanse of beaten dirt and stone between New Antioch and Kilhomen. Orsus Melnick glanced sidelong at the sun, the tinted lenses of his respirator helping to filter out the direct light. Not everything that dropped forty years ago had been neutron bombs, and a good deal of radioactive isotopes still lingered in the soil, so it was best to take precautions when passing through areas prone to dust storms. Beneath his legs his horse shifted uncomfortably, protesting the bulk of the homemade gasmask that rested over the beast’s face. Orsus patted his horse softly on the neck, whispering calming words to him.

“Hail, Orsus,” someone called from behind him. Melnick readjusted the battered AVIR III slung on his back- he called her Greta- and turned in his saddle. Visily Zoktavir, one of his compatriots and the best damn scout south of Ardburg.

“Hail, Visily.”

“Road’s clear up ahead. Weather looks to be holding for now. Easily make Hammerpoint by sundown.” The sniper was not fond of words, preferring to let his rifle speak for him, but still managed to convey all he needed to with a minimum of effort. Orsus nodded and glanced back to the crouching shapes lined up behind him. Naked save for the collars chained to their necks and the surgical masks on their faces- it wouldn’t do to have radioactive merchandise- the thirty slaves were staring listlessly at nothing in particular or trying to sleep on the hard ground. Behind the group two more slavers sat high on horseback, guns drawn as they surveyed the mob. They met his gaze and stared right back.

“We’re setting out, boys. Round ‘em up.” Anatoli Masha and Pyotir Fyodor nodded and goaded their horses forward, shouting for the people on the ground to line up. They grumbled and got to their feet, shivering slightly in the early morning chill, but gradually formed into a line behind Orsus’ horse. The brutish man turned back and spurred his horse into a slow trot. The slave markets in the southern mountains were only a day to the south, nestled down into valleys between the peaks. The area had turned into a pirate haven in recent years, free of the moral constraints of “modern” civilization, but that did not by any means limit the sale of slaves to the south. Clandestine deals were often made on the outskirts, and even town squares of many settlements in the area. After all, there was nobody to say that slavery was wrong, no central government. Hell, Orsus reflected, there’s barely any local government.

The Reverend Black sat at her desk, writing on a sheet of paper. Behind her were several crates of cigars that she had bought with her own savings off of a scavenging party, stacked up next to a bed. Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. "Come in." the Bishop said, sighing.

A man entered, dressed in an old Abrahamic League uniform, with an assault rifle slung on his shoulder. "Ma'am" He said, saluting. "One of our villages reports that it has captured a slaver and several people that he was apparently taking south."

Rev. Black frowned. "Very well, have him brought here. We cannot allow slavers and their kind to operate near us, he must be made an example of."

"Yes Ma'am" The man said, saluting again and turning to leave.

Anne put down her pen. So those wretched savages think they can encroach upon the League's territory? They think they can intrude upon the domain of the righteous? No, such sin cannot be tolerated. She rubbed her eyes. There was a time when none of wicked practice would dare be within twenty miles of us, they are growing bolder.

_________________________________________________________________


The sun shone down upon the town square of New Antioch. A man knelt in the center, armed guards on either side. He was bound hand and foot, and gagged by a strip of cloth. In front of him stood the Reverend Black, regarding the prisoner with disgust.

Anne was dressed in a black duster and hat, and held a bible in her right hand. Contempt eminated from her as she looked down upon the slaver. "Mr. Ford," She began, her voice cold and emotionless. "you have been found by the ruling council of the town of New Antioch to be guilty of the practice of human slavery, a most heinous crime against both the Almighty and your fellow man. The evidence against presented is irrefutable, and the sentence carried by this crime is death."

She took the cigar she had been smoking out of her mouth, tapping it. "You and your kind will not corrupt this haven of righteousness with your wicked practices. You will serve as a warning to any such others, that they may know where they are not welcome."

She turned, and began to walk back to the church. Behind her, a gunshot rang out, and a body hit the ground. Rev. Black smiled, folding her hands together for a moment. "Amen."

OOC: bleh, bad post, ill edit later.

The afternoon sun shone off the surface of the water, casting a bright light onto Erik Klein, who had been attempting to catch a fish for near two hours now. Time seemed to stand still in this land, where so many had once lived. Alas, such thoughts were liable only to bring tears, and Erik forced them out of his mind, concentrating on the task at hand. With a yawn, he cast his line out into river, suddenly feeling a tug. Perhaps my luck has changed...

Yanking upwards on the line, he stuck the crude hook further into the fish’s mouth, who was not yet visible under the water. He began reeling in by hand, pulling the string line towards shore until the glistening of the water was met by the glistening of a sizable fish’s scales. Erik picked up the knife next to him and began de-scaling the trout, whistling as he did so.

Ever since the Leistungi refugees landed in former Whiskeasy, life had been difficult for them. Despite establishing a functional, communal society (which of course, had they not been in a life or death situation, would have been laughed out of existence by the ultra economically rightist former Leistungi government), early encounters with hostile and deranged Whiskeasian civilians had used up the lasts of the Leistungi ammunition, and the settlement was essentially undefended besides a paltry ten AVIR III assault rifles.

What the settlement, christened Lichtblick, did have, was brains. While it may have seemed strange to the other, more utilitarian settlements, every expense was spared to ensure that the designs for old technologies were kept alive—even if they could not be duplicated, almost every man, woman, and child in Lichtblick dreamt of returning to Leistung proper one day as a hero, plans for a new age in hand. Though the settlement had only a meager population of two hundred and two souls, many of the eldest members of the Lichtblicker community had worked for Leistungi shipbuilding firms, and had an advanced knowledge of technology, even if the parts were not available to create any of the designs they had worked on during their time at ENI.

A fishing society, denizens of Lichtblick lived and died by the river, which, though it of course had a Whiskeasian name, had been christened the Jordan River by the first refugees to land on its shores. They swore that God had delivered them to this place after two years at sea, during which time they had eaten their entire food stock from the mainland. Wooden boats went up the river every week to collect fish from the abundant waters, while individual fishermen plied the waters near the mouth of the river, sharing their catch amongst the other, less capable members of the community.

Rumors around the settlement were growing, however, of Doctor Engel, the former naval architect and engineer, getting more than his fair share of the catch. While it was rumored to be sanctioned by the ruling council, the anger remained, as in the minds of Lichtblickers, no man deserved any more of the food than another. If only they knew what the good Doctor was working on, long into the hours of the night in the darkness of his hovel...

OOC: Don't worry, I'm not building an aircraft carrier or anything...nothing that could be used as a weapon, anyways.

After being on the move for what seemed like a life time, Jimmy saw somthing in the distance. "Chalk, Chalk look!" said Jimmy excitedly and he pointed to what appeared to be a settlement. The settlement that they were looking at was Antioch.

"We better check in and see if they got petrol or owt, if they do i can get ma scoot to work again!" said Chalk now smirking. The two men made there way towards Antioch.

"Oh, I'm not his wife" Sarah said to Mike

"No, we're just friends. We grew up together, as did the others who left with us" John said "Thank you for your hospitality. We are most grateful, and I would be glad to tell stories of the places we have seen"

The trio moved southward, keeping a well-spaced wedge formation and having Zero scan ahead of them whenever they crested a hill or other elevated terrain feature. The practice kept them out of sight of raider and slaver bands, and if they did have to fight it was better to control the high ground.

On around the seventy-fifth rise (Teacher had been keeping count), Zero spotted a settlement in the distance...

"Hey Teach... Look..."

The older Argonian crawled up next to his marksman, peering across the horizon at what had to be a settlement. There weren't any corpses displayed around the encampment in a gruesome manner, and that meant one of two things: It wasn't a raider camp, or it was a slaver camp...

"We're staying put for a bit, guys. I want to be sure that's at least a neutral settlement and not stumbling into a god-damned trap..."

Zero nodded slowly behind his scope, centering his crosshairs in what looked like a guard tower, and noted that the person within held some sort of a rifle without an external magazine. They were armed, but not well-armed, it seemed. Three men couldn't out-gun an entire settlement, but they did stand a good chance of being able to out-manuver them and hit them hard from a distance if needed. Teacher would rather save the ammo, however. It wasn't easy to come by back in the homeland, and it would be even more scarce here with the larger population. Best to save it where possible.

Crush cracked open a can of peaches with his worn combat knife, a crude-looking Grayman Darfur Defender, the hefty blade easily seperating the thin tin on the top to allow him to dump the fruit and juices within into his mouth like a can of beer. He'd seated himself behind the crest of the hill, out of sight and clear of making himself a target. He finished the can of fruit in about three gulps, then began the process of unloading his automatic rifle and taking it apart to make sure it was clean enough to function. Gun lube was also in short supply, and a weapon with that sort of cyclic rate needed to stay slick if at all possible. There was a little dirt caked in the lower part of the reciever, probably from their ill-fated parachute drop, and he began the process of scraping it out. The 249 would need to be functional if he was going to be useful to his buddies in the event it was actually a slaver camp and they sent a party out to look for the three Argonians.

The process was quick, and Crush had the weapon put back together in short order before taking his place on-line next to Zero while Teach took a break to check his own weapon and throw back a can of beef ravioli. Zero ate in place, snacking on a PowerBar. His eyes needed to be on the potential enemy ahead, in the event they needed him to put a round down-range and beat feet back the way they came...

"Oh, I'm not his wife" Sarah said to Mike

"No, we're just friends. We grew up together, as did the others who left with us" John said "Thank you for your hospitality. We are most grateful, and I would be glad to tell stories of the places we have seen"

He smiled and said "I'm sorry, my mistake. If you would like to come this way I will introduce you to my wife. And some other prominent members of our little town who may be joining us. Please follow me," He moved down the main street, people were starting to cook supper on wood burners and open fires. Children played in the muddy street running around the town in old garments and homemade additions. Older men sat outside houses drinking potsheen made from potatoes that were fermented and distilled, it was a fiery drink much stronger than pre-war vodka. Pre-war liquor was worth a small fortune and only the rich people could afford it.

Mike led to them to a smallish house opposite a bigger fortress like building with the words "Town Hall" carved in weathered stone above the gate to the inner compound. Mike opened the door to his house and called out "Judy! We have visitors! Cook for two more people!" He smiled at the couple and led them into a lounge type room sparsely furnished with a couple of threadbare sofas and armchairs, a few photos and paintings hung on the wall. Soon a small blonde lady stuck her head round a door and said "Hello there! I'm Judy. Can I offer you anything? It's either potsheen or ale I'm afraid. Dinner will be ready in a couple of hours."

Mike led to them to a smallish house opposite a bigger fortress like building with the words "Town Hall" carved in weathered stone above the gate to the inner compound. Mike opened the door to his house and called out "Judy! We have visitors! Cook for two more people!" He smiled at the couple and led them into a lounge type room sparsely furnished with a couple of threadbare sofas and armchairs, a few photos and paintings hung on the wall. Soon a small blonde lady stuck her head round a door and said "Hello there! I'm Judy. Can I offer you anything? It's either potsheen or ale I'm afraid. Dinner will be ready in a couple of hours."

"No, thank you" they said to Judy, before John turned to Mike

"Quite a nice little place you've got going here, Mike" he said "How long has it been here?"

Mike sat in his chair and said "Well, must be twenty years now. I remember my father coming here, it was just a group of survivalists back then. We came down from the mountains, where we had stayed for all of my life. My father set up the citadel in the town hall. We were hit hard for the first few winters, there were about a hundred of us. Plenty of space in the Town Hall. The Raiders killed thirty of us. The winters another twenty. More people came every spring, soon we fought back the small groups of raiders and built the walls. That was fifteen years ago, we have been growing ever since. My father died and I was elected in as Mayor and Police Chief, my first job was to clear the whole valley of Raiders. Luckily we get drinking water from the river otherwise they would have got us badly. We could only go out to the fields when we had our weapons. It was hard but we got rid of them, killed 'em to a man.

After that we have become a farming and herding community, however we arm ourselves as best we can. There are military facilities in the mountains. Most are still locked up, we crack open one every now and then. But we mostly trade food to survive. Well that and tools we make from smelted down car parts. But what about you? What have you seen? What's your story?"

The Preacher aproached freeville and started to yell to the people (any who could hear and bothered to listen),"People of this wonderful settlement, I come to preach your salvation. Meanwhile the mysterious stranger followed stealthily behind.

Ziyo and Kenkon had recently finished eating and were planning the next raid.
"I've heard of a rather populous settlement to the north, Freedom, Freeville, something like that. I hear it also has a lot of traffic." said Kenkon, munching on a hunk of deermeat.
"I've heard of that too. Do you think we should deploy a group down there to intercept traders and travellers?" asked Ziyo, toying with his knife.
"Probably. 2 squads rotating weekly would be good. Set up a blockade and take the town. I'm sure we could get recruits from the travellers as well."
"You're right. You're leading the first squad." said Ziyo, motioning to the commander of the previous raider group, Bushi.
"Organize two groups of 8. 6 people with automatics, 1 with a scoped, and the other a hunting rifle. You lead one, Kenkon leads the other. Set up a loose blockade around the town of Freeville. Don't kill them instantly, get as many recruits as you can. That's all."

30 minutes later, Bushi and his squad began thundering out of the encampment with supplies and weapons.

A rambling old man started to walk through the fields of Freeville. His kind were not welcome here. They had there own Chaplain and they didn't need a zealot. They didn't want some heavily armoured loon following him around town either. As he approached the town walls a shot rang out. It skipped past his foot, and whizzed of over the man with the snipers head.
"Go back the way you came. If you take one more step we will blow you across the road."
Several rifle barrels and even an old machine gun poked out through loop holes and the parapet. This was no empty threat, they knew the dangers of radicalism.

Mike sat in his chair and said "Well, must be twenty years now. I remember my father coming here, it was just a group of survivalists back then. We came down from the mountains, where we had stayed for all of my life. My father set up the citadel in the town hall. We were hit hard for the first few winters, there were about a hundred of us. Plenty of space in the Town Hall. The Raiders killed thirty of us. The winters another twenty. More people came every spring, soon we fought back the small groups of raiders and built the walls. That was fifteen years ago, we have been growing ever since. My father died and I was elected in as Mayor and Police Chief, my first job was to clear the whole valley of Raiders. Luckily we get drinking water from the river otherwise they would have got us badly. We could only go out to the fields when we had our weapons. It was hard but we got rid of them, killed 'em to a man.

After that we have become a farming and herding community, however we arm ourselves as best we can. There are military facilities in the mountains. Most are still locked up, we crack open one every now and then. But we mostly trade food to survive. Well that and tools we make from smelted down car parts. But what about you? What have you seen? What's your story?"

"We both grew up in one of the underground civillian fallout shelters" John began "Although people were only supposed to stay in them for a year, the people who came before us stayed there for twenty years. They traded with survivors on the outside, but initially refused to leave untill the fallout had cleared up some 15 years later"

He leaned back in the chair, pausing a moment to think. Then, he continued "When we left, many survivors were heading for The Crucible. They said that it was calling to them, and that only The Crucible would save them from their sickness" He paused again, thinking back to that day "I went there. We all did. We went to see what it was that was calling the survivors to this place. The Crucible turned out to be Bedivere Tower, a massive pre-war tower that was rumoured to hold "The Hand Of God" within it. A man called David LaSalle was leading these people. But we could not hear what the others could, and were turned away. That was when we began crossing the continents. We managed to make our way to some of the old Defence Perimeter Towers and get some supplies. Having crossed several continents and lost friends along the way, here we are"

Sarah sat forward as he finished. She feigned a cough

"Tell them the rest" she said

John took another deep breath. This information had got his friends killed in the past, so he was reluctant to just give it away.

"People say that the Spike Islands, a small group of islands off the coast of the Northern Mountains in Ustio, are untouched by radiation. We tried to get there, but radiation levels in the mountains were too high. We couldn't get there by sea either. Once we learnt this, we began searching the continents for some sort of aerial transport to take us over the mountains"

Mike was indeed interested. Anywhere free of this hell hole would be nice but there were no aircraft left. Certainly no modern ones, they required constant maintenance and the EMP would of caused havoc with their electronics.

"That is a hell of a story. But I'm afraid to say there are no aircraft here. Nor any I have heard of. Technology is more or less gone. We have only minor pieces of technology left, certainly no planes or helicopters. Even if you found one, finding enough fuel for it would be near impossible.

This Crucible. Tell me more, it sounds like radical filth. Did you know in my time here I have seen four different messiahs? And each time a few of my people followed them, whenever I find people inciting religious insurrection I have to act quickly and often unfairly. The Crucible sounds like many of the post-war refuges we get around here. People turned insane, or just plain stupid. Some just want to believe it is the best place." Mike sighed, he had men patrolling the valley every day. He had heard of some crazy man coming, also that bandits were becoming more common in the north west. He needed to do something about that. But what really interested him where the scattered stories of a larger town down river of him. He needed to send someone down there but hadn't had the time. Perhaps he would do that tomorrow.

Mike was indeed interested. Anywhere free of this hell hole would be nice but there were no aircraft left. Certainly no modern ones, they required constant maintenance and the EMP would of caused havoc with their electronics.

"That is a hell of a story. But I'm afraid to say there are no aircraft here. Nor any I have heard of. Technology is more or less gone. We have only minor pieces of technology left, certainly no planes or helicopters. Even if you found one, finding enough fuel for it would be near impossible.

This Crucible. Tell me more, it sounds like radical filth. Did you know in my time here I have seen four different messiahs? And each time a few of my people followed them, whenever I find people inciting religious insurrection I have to act quickly and often unfairly. The Crucible sounds like many of the post-war refuges we get around here. People turned insane, or just plain stupid. Some just want to believe it is the best place." Mike sighed, he had men patrolling the valley every day. He had heard of some crazy man coming, also that bandits were becoming more common in the north west. He needed to do something about that. But what really interested him where the scattered stories of a larger town down river of him. He needed to send someone down there but hadn't had the time. Perhaps he would do that tomorrow.

"Well, all I know about the Crucible is that it could actually be the seat of power for a new government" John told them "See, when we managed to enter one of the old offshore defence platforms, their designs had shielded most electronics from the blast. Although the cannon and AA launchers were severely damaged, and the radar control annttenae was gone, the computers inside still worked. We spent a few days repairing the power generator and we managed to access the main terminal. Obviously, we could not access the something called "internet", but some old files were still on the hard drive

"There was an email from then-Prime Minster McArthur, wishing the tower mechanics a happy new year. And there was another note. It was heavily encrypted, but we managed to decipher some of it before the power went completely. All we got from it were the names 'LaSalle, SRPA, Crucible, Avalon One and Station Genesis', none of which meant anything to us. They must be codenames, but there was no mention of them in the old records. I don't think it's people being religious, or being stupid. But it's weird, and I don't really know what to make of it. Most people could hear something, a voice, calling to them. But we heard nothing. Just the endless silence of the wastes"

He took a deep breath. It was a long time since he'd told that story

"I don't know. Sarah noticed something about the people though"

Sarah looked up at the sound of her name

"Um, yes I had a theory - of sorts" she said, closing her backpack and sitting back "I noticed that all those that could hear this voice were all people who had not been able to shelter from the blasts and fallout - they had been forced to live in the wasteland since the attacks. Yet our group had not been affected, and we heard nothing. Those who came from the cities said they heard it loudest, while those in the countryside only heard it as a whisper. I thought it could be something to do with the radiation, but to be honest I don't know."

She looked over at Mike

"Have you attempted to enter the cities yet?" she asked him

This was interesting, maybe the Doc Harris could explain some of this behavior. Nonetheless the idea of an existing government intrigued him. He had heard nothing of any remaining government but he supposed some must exist in Whiskeasy.

"Well, I'm afraid to say you should be talking to Doc Harris about your theory, he learnt from the three previous doctors we had here. All experts in their own fields. He is a clever blighter, got a huge library as well. Trains the most intelligent of the kids as well. He is coming round later, you may see him then. The town council meets most nights and he is coming round to brief me on the situation of the sick people we have at the moment.

We have been to nearby Grouse but the place is abandoned and decrepit. Getting dangerous in it's old age. We have scavenged through it but so have a lot of people. I'm afraid to say that Bowmore and most of the port cities are still unusable, due to radiation. But I have heard reports of a town down river of us. Some sort of religious but not extremist colony. I need to get someone to check it out but I haven't had the chance yet."

After being on the move for what seemed like a life time, Jimmy saw somthing in the distance. "Chalk, Chalk look!" said Jimmy excitedly and he pointed to what appeared to be a settlement. The settlement that they were looking at was Antioch.

"We better check in and see if they got petrol or owt, if they do i can get ma scoot to work again!" said Chalk now smirking. The two men made there way towards Antioch.

Ben Rice looked up from his field to see two figures coming down the road. He placed a hand on his son's shoulder, who had been working beside him. "Get to the town, boy. Tell 'em there's two two youngish looking fellows headin' up the road with some sort'a bike thing."

The child nodded, and began jogging towards town. Ben walked to his barn, and fetched from inside it an old semi-automatic rifle. He walked to the edge of the road, watching the two figures approach. "Whats your business here?" He called when they had come within earshot.

The little terrain feature they'd occupied was part of a larger system of valleys through which was the settlement under observation...

"Teach, got something new..."

The oldest of the bunch had been on his rest shift, dozing in the sun on the opposite side of the hill...

"Whatcha got?"

"Look..."

Zero pointed down towards what looked to be an older man walking calmly along the path to the settlement, but through the scope it became obvious that he was babbling something and making some extreme gestures. Nutjobs didn't worry Teacher much, they were usually harmless. It was the guy following behind the the old coot that was of interest. He was obviously trying to stay out of sight, but wasn't doing very well. The getup didn't help much at all, either. The gun he was carrying was a big one, though. Big-boy rifle by the look of it. Teacher was puzzled, however. It was a heavy thing, and good only at long ranges, useless up close as it'd literally throw you on your ass if you shot it offhanded and the weight made it impossible to hold in any sort of ready position for long periods of time...

"Check out Rambo down there... Must get awful hot in that mask, lugging that cannon around behind that crazy fucker..."

The three of them lay along the ridgeline, talking softly between themselves. They were an odd bunch, and they doubted anyone in this nation had ever seen an Argonian, much less three of them kitted out in pre-War body armor and packing a decent amount of firepower between them. As the crazy old prophet entered the town without incident, Teacher's opinion of the place grew. It was at least friendly to like-minded wanderers like themselves. The only issue now was their appearance. Argonians were more or less lizard-men, and while 'human' in most respects, the look of them was probably going to get them shot at...

(OOC: Umm, WA. I have just shot at him when he is outside... May want to edit that last post.)

OOC: I'm getting to it, I'm getting to it... :)

IC:

The muffled snap of gunshots at long range sent the trio into a higher state of alertness, until Zero drew a bead on where the shots had come from, and where they were supposed to go. The small cloud of dust settling at the feet of the wandering zealot was a good indication of where one of those rounds had landed. Teacher was willing to bet the other was a warning shot for cannon-man down there.

It wasn't as friendly as he'd thought, but then again they weren't crazed religious zealots with Germanic bodyguards roaming the wastes. They were a tired, and rather hungry band of what could be called mercenaries, the benevolent sort. They had no real skills besides those related to waging war. Teacher was a wise individual, able to teach like his nickname implied. Crush was strong, able to do hard labor if needed, and Zero was excellent with his hands, besides being a top-notch gunsmith. Then again, Teacher thought, they did have a few skills that might be useful besides things relating to combat...

"Guys, what do you think? We're about out of food, and it'll eventually get dark..."

"I'm with you, Teach. We'll do whatever... Crush?"

The bigger Argonian was a bit apprehensive. He'd just seen two travellers take fire from the very settlement Teacher was wanting them to go visit, and he really didn't feel like getting shot today...

"I don't like it, fellas. Not one bit. They just shot at those fuckers!"

"I know, big guy I know. I don't like it either, but we need to eat, we need ammo, and we need someplace where we can all sleep without having to rotate shifts..."

"Alright, alright... But I'm not holding back if they drop one of you two..."

"Trust me, Crush. Neither of us will, and I don't think we'll take fire if we don't charge down there like we're storming a fuckin' beach..."

"Alright, Teach. Let's go..."

The trio slid back down the edge of the hill, then made their way to the main 'road', if they could call it that, that went into the town proper. They moved in a tight wedge, Teacher out front with Crush on the left and Zero on the right, weapons held low-ready in a neutral posture. Teacher went a step further, resting his support hand over top of his FAL, but keeping his firing hand on the pistol-grip with his finger off the trigger...

"Just stay cool, guys. Shit shouldn't hit the fan..."

"Let's hope they like Argonians..."

"For once Zero, I'd like you to STOP talking..."

The marksman laughed softly, adjusting his hold on his rifle as they walked slowly towards the town...

"We have been to nearby Grouse but the place is abandoned and decrepit. Getting dangerous in it's old age. We have scavenged through it but so have a lot of people. I'm afraid to say that Bowmore and most of the port cities are still unusable, due to radiation. But I have heard reports of a town down river of us. Some sort of religious but not extremist colony. I need to get someone to check it out but I haven't had the chance yet."

"I'll look in on the Doctor" Sarah said, returning to searching through her backpack

"We could take a look in the morning" John said "I put no stock in religion, so i'm unlikely to be converted"

OOC: It sounds to me like Sarah and John are talking about something called electrosensitivity. Normally, less than 3% of the population is affected by it, but the large amounts of EM waves put out by the nukes could probably bring that up a lot higher. I for one is electrosensitive. Whenever I'm near a phone, computer, or tv, I get a loud ringing in my ears.

IC:
The 8 of them had been riding hard for several hours, when they heard a gunshot ring out. Stopping, Bushi ordered his men to fan out near the crest of the hill on foot. The one with the hunting rifle would hang back and monitor the horses.
Moving forward, Bushi saw a town. It must be the Freeville his superiors had been talking about. A few small figures could also be seen. No features could be seen, but they were still people.

Ben Rice looked up from his field to see two figures coming down the road. He placed a hand on his son's shoulder, who had been working beside him. "Get to the town, boy. Tell 'em there's two two youngish looking fellows headin' up the road with some sort'a bike thing."

The child nodded, and began jogging towards town. Ben walked to his barn, and fetched from inside it an old semi-automatic rifle. He walked to the edge of the road, watching the two figures approach. "Whats your business here?" He called when they had come within earshot.


Chalk looked at Jimmy, his hands still firmly gripping his scooter, he was not going top let it go not even if he were to be shot with the now present automatic rifle. "Jimmy say summut" whispered Chalk

"Hi, errm well we're just two guys looking for diggs, we'll work for it and what not" said Jimmy, he had decided to not even touch his gun, this guy seemed friendly enough.

Zero got the feeling he was being watched. Being a sniper, that was never a good feeling. Without being too obvious about it, he nudged Teacher...

"Got a feeling something's behind us..."

Teacher didn't even look in his direction...

"Probably just some curious villagers or some other benign shit..."

The sniper nodded, but didn't buy the whole 'villager' bit. The area had been more or less raider-free to their knowledge, and that was probably due to a concentrated effort on the part of the inhabitants of the quaint little burg they were headed towards. Then again, raiders were going to be a constant reality for a very long time, at least until modern society kicked back up again with radio communications and other means to make hiding out in the hills more or less impossible.

That said, Zero began watching for someplace to throw himself if lead started flying. They'd be caught in a crossfire if something did pop off, between the settlement itself and the raiders (if there were any) behind them. Zero really hoped Teacher was right, but he did have a knack for staying out of trouble and his gut wasn't wrong often.

They were almost at the gate to the city itself, and began to slow down a bit...

Chalk looked at Jimmy, his hands still firmly gripping his scooter, he was not going top let it go not even if he were to be shot with the now present automatic rifle. "Jimmy say summut" whispered Chalk

"Hi, errm well we're just two guys looking for diggs, we'll work for it and what not" said Jimmy, he had decided to not even touch his gun, this guy seemed friendly enough.

"Dunno what a digg is, boy, I'm not too familiar with such terms." Ben said, regarding the two men. Well, they don't look much like dangerous types. "If you two are here to work, then you'd best follow me into town. I expect the bishop will meet us 'round halfway with a few of her men." He turned, beckoning for them to follow, and began walking down the road towards New Antioch.

A rambling old man started to walk through the fields of Freeville. His kind were not welcome here. They had there own Chaplain and they didn't need a zealot. They didn't want some heavily armoured loon following him around town either. As he approached the town walls a shot rang out. It skipped past his foot, and whizzed of over the man with the snipers head.
"Go back the way you came. If you take one more step we will blow you across the road."
Several rifle barrels and even an old machine gun poked out through loop holes and the parapet. This was no empty threat, they knew the dangers of radicalism.
OOC: The Sniper isn't following him that closely, doubt they would see him
IC: The old man spoke,"I come to preach and you wish to shoot me? Then it seems civilization has become as barbaric as the raiders. May god have mercy on your souls." He begins to walk away, the sniper takes aim at where the machine gunner is, just in case things gen messy.

Kagetora;14403200']OOC: It sounds to me like Sarah and John are talking about something called electrosensitivity. Normally, less than 3% of the population is affected by it, but the large amounts of EM waves put out by the nukes could probably bring that up a lot higher. I for one is electrosensitive. Whenever I'm near a phone, computer, or tv, I get a loud ringing in my ears.

OOC: Thanks for the medical opinion Kage, but it's something much more complex - and yet simple at the same time. Since this isn't fantasy, I can't actually mention it, i can only allude to it. Suffice to say David LaSalle was a member of a Genetic Research organisation that modified a certain virus. This post will clear it up (http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=4y9ZAXg3inQ&feature=channel_page). Just to say, unless Whiskeasy wants to, we probably won't need to go into any detail about them unless we actually go to Ustio. And as for their presence in other RP's, such as in "Cry Havoc...", I took the advice of Catawaba, only using their abilities if other people are doing so.

"Dunno what a digg is, boy, I'm not too familiar with such terms." Ben said, regarding the two men. Well, they don't look much like dangerous types. "If you two are here to work, then you'd best follow me into town. I expect the bishop will meet us 'round halfway with a few of her men." He turned, beckoning for them to follow, and began walking down the road towards New Antioch.

"Cheers" said Jimmy, before he could say anything else Chalk piped up. "So is this Bishop, what i mean is this a settlement based around a religon?"

Jimmy looked at Chalk as if to say "What the fuck." They both then just ducked their heads and followed the man.

"Cheers" said Jimmy, before he could say anything else Chalk piped up. "So is this Bishop, what i mean is this a settlement based around a religon?"

Jimmy looked at Chalk as if to say "What the fuck." They both then just ducked their heads and followed the man.

"Not one religion, no." Ben said as he walked down the path. "Three, actually. You boys ever heard of the Abrahamic League from back before the war? New Antioch is what remains of us."

Three small shapes could now be made out on the road ahead, steadily growing larger.

The sentry watched the man go, contented he returned to his patrol. It wasn't that they didn't like travelers it just that religion coupled with a desperate situation made people do crazy things. The mass suicides across Whiskeasy proved that, more than a hundred thousand people listened to the words of the Anglican Church and killed themselves. That was three days after the bombs fell.

****

Mike, nodded his thanks and said "Well, wait a few days. I will be sending one of the deputies down their with a small squad of the best we have. Tag along if you want, we need all the extra hands we can get. I was thinking if these people are friendly we could open up a nice little trade route. But who knows, they may be hostile, they may not even exist though I find that incredibly unlikely due to the amount of travelers that have mentioned them. But any way.
Please do talk to the doctor, you may find him in his clinic, in the citadel across the road. But first dinner!"

He stood up and headed through into the other room where his wife had finished making a supper of mutton stew and potatoes. A feast, they normally only got pottage and that was an acquired taste.

****

Mary Jane was eighteen, she was collecting flowers in the hills above the town when she heard something. It sounded like talking, she crouched down and crawled forward looking over a rock and seeing a bunch of heavily armed what looked like lizard men gasped in horror. A small stone slipped from where she snatched her hand back in horror and it clattered loudly. She stared on in shock, not moving in terror.

OOC: Hope you don't mind WA...

The Preacher decided, in some idea in his head, that maybe New Antioch would be more open. He decided to head east and circle around North towards it.
The Sniper waited awhile, until he was sure they would not shoot, then he began to follow the Preacher again, same as before.
OOC: You might want to edit map colors to darker ones, really hard to see them clearly

"Not one religion, no." Ben said as he walked down the path. "Three, actually. You boys ever heard of the Abrahamic League from back before the war? New Antioch is what remains of us."

Three small shapes could now be made out on the road ahead, steadily growing larger.


The men glanced at each other now looking a little shocke, they didnt expect to be surviving with these nut cases running around with bibles. "So errr, you guys strict with the whole religion thing then?" asked Jimmy, now feeling a little more confident

The men glanced at each other now looking a little shocked, they didn't expect to be surviving with these nut cases running around with bibles. "So errr, you guys strict with the whole religion thing then?" asked Jimmy, now feeling a little more confident

"Depends on what you mean by strict." Be said. "Now, we don't much mind what religion, or lack thereof, that you follow as long as there's no human sacrifices or other such things. That being said, the great majority of us here ascribe to one of the three abrahamic faiths; Christianity, Islam, or Judaeism, and we don't allow slavery, polygamy, or prostitution. Y'er also expected to be respectful of the those with theological beliefs that differ from yours. We are run by a council, elected every three years. Currently, it consists of the Bishop Rev. Anne Black, the Imam Rashid Al'Omari, and the Rabbi Isaac Jay. This is the first time since we landed that members of the clergy have occupied all three positions."

The figures in the distance could now be recognized as being on horseback as they grew slowly nearer to the men walking.

"Depends on what you mean by strict." Be said. "Now, we don't much mind what religion, or lack thereof, that you follow as long as there's no human sacrifices or other such things. That being said, the great majority of us here ascribe to one of the three abrahamic faiths; Christianity, Islam, or Judaeism, and we don't allow slavery, polygamy, or prostitution. Y'er also expected to be respectful of the those with theological beliefs that differ from yours. We are run by a council, elected every three years. Currently, it consists of the Bishop Rev. Anne Black, the Imam Rashid Al'Omari, and the Rabbi Isaac Jay. This is the first time since we landed that members of the clergy have occupied all three positions."

The figures in the distance could now be recognized as being on horseback as they grew slowly nearer to the men walking.


"Sounds fair" said Jimmy as he squinted at the people on horseback. "So do you have any problems with raiders or any other ruffians?" asked Jimmy.

Before anything else was said Chalk piped up, "Do you have any petrol? Or even some way to convert an endgine?? 'Cuz I got a scooter here and..." Chalk stopped himself from going into a full on rant

OOC: I don't mind at all.

Zero spun about as the stone clattered downwards, landing somewhere behind him. He almost brought up the rifle, but something stayed his hand...

"Ey Teach, think I found what was staring at me..."

Their leader looked upwards, trying his best to make eye contact with the girl...

"It's alright, my dear! We mean you no harm!"

Crush nearly burst out laughing, Zero nearly had him believing they were about to get shot to pieces in a heavy crossfire, and it was only a young woman out picking flowers...

"We simply wish to trade with your village, for some needed supplies. If you would somehow get us inside we'd find someway to repay you for your kindness..."

Teacher may have looked like a brutal killer from some underbudget pre-war action flick that had been dragged through a mile of backcountry dirt road, but the look in his eyes wasn't one of malice. It was compassion that lurked there, an emotion he rarely got to use these days...