It had been a few days since he had arrived here. He knew he was not usually welcome within the confines of Salem proper.  He found a shack near the edge of the city, and he had to clear out the Mirelurks that rested within it. The eggs had been easy enough, it was the King that suddenly showed up that gave him issues. The red and black monster had torn out of the water like it owned this shack... And maybe in a way, it did.

When claws hit steel however, it was a very different reality. In his full suit, he might as well of been in powered armor, like those Brotherhood fellows, and the claws of the beast simply clattered and scraped along welded steel. Rook pulled back his fist and slammed it hard into the face of the Mirelurk King. He had seen what that sonic attack of theirs could do, and he would rather not have to be on the end of it. Stepping into the next strike, he pushed it back towards the water, blackish blood flowing down it's face.

The beast pulled back, ready to unleash that attack that it was known for, and that was when the blade came down. The heavy weapon that Rook had spent years trying to cobble together, the blade was heavier than he wanted, but overall, it worked. The halberd like weapon sang out through the air, found the flesh of the King, and in one motion, ended it's life. He would need to harvest the meat before it went bad, but he couldn't help himself.
[color=00a651]
“Rook takes King. Checkmate.”[/color] He said, looking to the remaining few eggs, the dead king, and the shack. [color=00a651]“Yes... This will be a good place for Rook to live.”
[/color]

That was nearly a week ago. He had cut and cooked the body of the King, making a simple stew with that he had left. Fish stew got old however, and he knew he had to do more. He had cleaned out all the muck that had been left behind by the Mirelurks, pulled up the truck from the water and let it dry before working off the steel and using that to make a better foundation for himself. His armor was put up on racks, the age old diamond plate steel had long ago lost it's luster, but he knew it was still as useful now as it was back then.

Grabbing the small bag of caps, Rook would count out what he had left. He needed supplies. He had seen other Super Mutants eating humans, but he couldn't ever bring himself to do that. He used to be one. As terrible as the wasteland was, he knew he could find food if he was willing to work for it, or had the money to get it. He had some caps, but not enough for every much. With a sigh, he would grab up the tattered cloth he had found what felt like years ago.

White, frayed in spots, holes in others, but it got the point across. Tried to what used to be a flag pole, he walked out with that on his shoulder. He wasn't in his armor, he had no weapons, but he was still an eight foot tall green man walking towards a town. He was sure he was going to make some people scared, hence the flag. It should make them wonder, or stop if they knew it was for surrender. Wearing only a simple pair of pants, Rook walked up the beach and around the rocks, heading towards the town of Salem proper, looking to trade, offer his muscles for caps, or just generally prove he was not like most of his kin.

[color=00a651]“Rook is here for trade! Not to fight! Please do not shoot at Rook!”[/color] He called when he was on the main road, heading towards the town his one arm up, the other holding the flag.