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    1. PsychoticMonkNG 9 yrs ago

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I'm only available for roleplaying from 3 to 9 PM on weekdays, and 9 AM to 8 PM on weekends.

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Several Hours Later...

The storm that shook the Liberty Monument had finally let up. Hal was startled awake by the sudden lack of noise, and he rose onto his feet. The Sun was beginning to rise outside, judging by the cracked windows and shutters. He turned off his Pip-Boy light and walked to the entrance. He unlocked the doors and walked outside. The frigid air and heavy snowfall hit him like a baseball bat to the teeth.
"Heh." Hal rubbed his hair. "You never really realize how hot it is in there until you have to stay overnight." Hal searched his backpack and grabbed the small portable radio. He tuned it to 141.12 and pressed SEND. The radio cracked into the Secure Vault Channel.
"Hal? Is that you?" The slight Hindu accent was immediately recognized by Hal's subconscious.
"Yes, it's me, Harshil." Hal looked around the Wasteland, pinpointing Vault 18's location by a laser beacon he had planted before he had left. "I'm on my way over."
"Where have you been, Hal? The whole Church is saying that you were killed in the storm!"
Hal took a minute to explain as he made his way to Vault 18. He went into great detail, taking more than an hour to explain. He ended up slamming head-first into the Vault door near the end of his story. Rubbing his forehead, he said "Buzz me in, Hersh the Gersh."
A loud ring sounded from the orange speaker above the steel cog as it came open. Hal took precautions not to get his toes caught under the thirteen tons of fast moving metal. He remembered when Harshil got his entire leg stuck under it, hence why Harshil is confined to the Vault.
The door pushed forward and slid to the side.
"Home sweet home," Hal said quietly.
Liberty Monument, Present Day

Hal stepped out of the small room that served as a lobby for the pre-war obelisk. The outside was darker than inside, the blood red moonlight shining upon the entire Alaskan Wasteland. Storms were amassing in the north, and Hal knew they were snowstorms due to the white wall following them. Snowfall was heavy and fast in Alaska.
"Well, I should head back to Vault 18 soon," Hal said to himself. "I'd rather not be caught in another blizzard. Still have the scars from last time."
Hal turned to the steps and began to walk down onto the permafrost layer covering the real earth. He took a few steps, and the icy layer rumbled beneath him, cracking under his weight. He retreated back onto the steps and studied the ground. It was unstable now. Reluctantly, Hal went back into the Liberty Monument. He closed the doors and locked them, and he used his Pip-Boy 2000 to illuminate the entire area again.
There was almost nothing of use in the obelisk. Aside from a few MRE rations he had brought, he was completely alone and unarmed out here. The world was going to leave him here, away from the Dwellers.
"This is going to suck major -" His words were cut off by the snow pounding on the walls at 200 kph.
Hal Fredan [PsychoticMonkNG] is a Caucasian Human male aged 17 years old. He lives in Vault 18, though he was born in a post-war town that was destroyed in 2269. He has light blue eyes and dirty blonde hair worn in a crew cut. Hal is unsure of who he should side with, but he realizes that he will one day have to choose. Usually wields a crowbar.
Welcome to Fallout: Bloodmoon!

War. War never changes.
Since 2077, the world has lain in charred ruins. The Great War has affected the entire globe, killing more than two-thirds of the human population. Those in the United States who believed in the apocalypse had preserved humanity in underground Vaults.
Vault 18 is one such vault, placed inside Mount McKinley before it was bombed out into the contaminated air. Vault 18 opened in 2158, and it was there that the Vault became aware of the outside world.
You are a Vault Dweller in 2276. The Moon, something that Vault 18 holds dear, has recently turned blood red, a symbol of misfortune coming for the Church. Will you leave Vault 18 forever with the Church, or will you side with the Vault's anti-nomadic faction the Dwellers? The choice is yours.

[Rules]
*No sexual content
*No spamming
*Fighting is allowed
*All characters must be given a character bio
*IC posts must be one paragraph at the least
*Relationships cannot conflict with Rule 1
*MUST BE a Human or Ghoul at start
*Becoming a Super Mutant or a Ghoul is possible ONLY FROM HUMAN
It's not dead, guys! I'm back!
"So, Fayden, why did you really come up here?"
Fayden adjusted his arm. "I came to you to tell you what we're doing in Darkened Dawn."
I sighed. "Finally, some orders."
"We are to investigate reports of a creature that could cause massive turmoil in the region if released. This creature is Tyrant, a bipedal monster from Archaea."
"Archaea? You mean the era before recorded history, right?"
"Correct." Fayden sat down next to me. "There are many things we don't fully understand about Archaea, Sinopa. Many tales remain unsolvable as there are many missing links from that time. Tyrant, a dinosaur-like creature I personally found in 3E7088, could be one of the many missing pieces of the puzzle. Only fifty years ago did it escape from captivity."
"You found it in 3E7088?! That's more than five thousand years ago!"
"And that is but a fraction of my lifetime, Sinopa."
"How old are you, exactly?"
Fayden seemed deep in thought at the end of the question. "Well, technically, I'm only twenty, but my own legacy spans several thousands of years."
I was going to ask him how, but then it hit me. He used time travel! That was so simple I'm frankly embarrassed that I didn't catch on immediately.
Fayden got up and walked down the hill. There was an odd jerkiness to his steps that I never noticed before. I turned back to the town and sighed.
Well, I hope Lady Luck has given us her favor. I really do.
Thursday, January 3, Fourth Era 903.
A sunny, warm morning in the wintertime, an oddity in the Kingdoms. The Foxhounds were camped up behind a hill overlooking the town of Darkened Dawn. Only Sinopa was awake at this early hour of the day. He was atop the hill with a clear view of both the town and the camp.


I watched over the Foxhounds as they slept without any sign of waking any time soon. Most of the new recruits were untrained, unable to realize when they were supposed to be awake.
"I remember those days," I said to myself. "The days when I had no worries; the days when I could sleep in as much as I wanted."
Of course, the Patriots had hired me in 4E901. I was just fourteen then, but the courageous fire inside me burned just as bright. The Patriots and Fayden placed their faith in me, and I couldn't let them down. I just can't.
Maybe I should wake up the recruits. I panted slightly, trying to cool myself down. I shook my head. I'll let the recruits figure it out for themselves.
Recruits wasn't technically the right word. Some of them were seasoned veterans of wars, some were trained mercenaries who are doing this for the pay. Fayden was one, of course.
"Up early, I see?"
I jumped slightly.
"Fayden!" I yelled at the elf. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"
Fayden smirked under his hood. "Why not, Sinopa? You've done it to me in the past, I just wanted to return the favor."
I scowled. He was right, the clever bastard. When I was first recruited into the Patriots, I always scared Fayden when he least expected it.
"So, the recruits are still asleep?" I asked the elf.
"Yes, they are. But some are stirring. Perhaps they might wake sooner than the others."
Insanity will be suppressed during actual roleplaying, I promise, guys!
...No promises. :P
Uhm...hey! I'm a new guy here who just started a roleplay called "The Patriots." I'd really like to get some people over here and get started. You don't have to go if you don't want, but, y'know, I'd like for some people to come and have fun with me.
Fayden Matrill (Plot-Essential NPC) is a twenty year old elf with no magic capability. He hails from the first kingdom, Asinna. He wears a dark cloak all the time and has mechanical limbs. He is a great swordsman with almost no equal. He is a neutral person with no reason to not kill you.
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