[center][h1]The Collegia[/h1]
[img]https://aw1x.files.wordpress.com/2011/02/conlogo.png?w=500[/img]

[hr][hr][h3][sub][sub][i]The old world is in ruins, its existence little more than a memory.
Some take it as absolute freedom, 
doing as they please no matter how horrific or depraved their action.
Others take it as revival, 
a restart from the world they see as corrupt and broken, deserving to die.
We on the other hand seek to find it once more.
For the past is where mankind flourished.
And even if we cannot call ourselves men.
The Collegia is always of the old world.[/i][/sub][/sub][/h3]
[hr][hr][/center]
The clear blue sky watched the desert plans from above, an azure sentinel with vigilance of the endless dunes of sand. Such an ocean was only pierced by the occasional rusted wreck or lifeless bones of either man or the world he once made. Only settlements provided any true lives in these lands, and even then they were only half lives, no matter the genetic purity of the people. Humanity had long died, its patron God long since leaving the salted, sanded earth to its fate.

But there are those who wish to defy the destined death, those who wished to bring it back to its glory, or at least safe guard it. The Collegia was one such few groups, a collection of mutants ironically enough doing the task of safe guarding mankind’s greatest creations and research, always looking for more from its exalted scavenger runs. Such runs carried valuable knowledge for the Collegia’s cause, but they also made tempting targets for raiders who wished to gain something from the mutant’s war rigs.

“Slocke! On your right!” a red clad Legio shouted as he held on to the side of the War Rig [i]“Sucinus”[/i], returning across the wasted dunes, currently being attacked by someone who wished them dead. The soldier crawled up into his machine gun turret and began to open fire.

“I see the beasts!” Slocke rotated the pintle mounted maxim, carefully made by the forges of the Collegia, the gun screamed to life as it delivered lead to the raiders.

The [i]Sucinus[/i] was what was classified as a “light” rig by the Legio Collegia. Made from an old, emptied out school bus, it had a pair of turrets on top to provide fire at all angles, a giant shotgun-like cannon poking out of the back and firing points in the windows.

Several bullets clattered and bounced off the heavy armor of the war rig, causing everyone inside to duck. With a deafening low roar, the blast cannon at the back fired, its hail of metal and stones sending a vehicle and its driver to a sandy death. The shell clattered to the ground, the crew loading in another homemade shell and taking aim.

The driver of the holy war rig crashed wildly into the tops of dunes, the cargo containers shivering hazardously as the vehicle landed. Cursing loudly as he went, the driver swerved left and right to try and shake the pursuers off, but it’s hard to loose someone in an open desert. The raiders were coming in closer as the guns just kept firing, a couple of IEDs flew towards the trail left behind by the armored bus, taking out another vehicle but it didn’t stop the others from taking its place.

“Say your prayers my brothers!” Slocke bellowed over the howling wind and the sounds of guns, “We are raised in the Collegia but are born in the old world! The Old World Anew!”

The rest of the crew tightened their knuckles and exclaimed the motto of the Collegia with great zeal, “The Old World Anew!”