[hr] [center] [i][b][url=https://78.media.tumblr.com/5eccb17208b9ab82fcf1e850a826a54a/tumblr_o2hynqKTG11ta0earo2_500.png] [b]The Lioness of Steel[/b][/url] Raven Rock [/b][/i] [/center] [hr] It was all Maxons fault! If he had send reinforcments back to the citadel, they would have beaten the Cult. If he had not claimed the position of Elder, she could have stopped his idotic expedition that had seen his demise in the commonwealth of Boston. If he would have not brokered this damn peace with the Outcasts and if he would have not taken her glory against the Shepard, she would have won the election...and the East-Coast Chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel would still be a power worth mentioning..and not a rabble, hiding away in the ruins of their old enemy! The plans to restore Raven-Rock, had been to turn the ruins into an auxiliary base for long-range operations into the west, using its distance from most settlements in the captital wasteland, to easily resupply expeditions, without causing much attention, as well as to scavenge for enclave data and technology. The plans had been criticized, for making the base far to small, leaving too little room for personal, which would lead to a shortage of space when in full operation, yet today, they couldnt even fill half the rooms, with others having been simply abandoned and given away to collect dust. [hr] Staying close to the terminals, the Lioness looked unmoving, as she could spot the dots on the holo-table, moving a single finger onto her ear. [b]"Knight-Captain Harris, you have a visual?" [/b] Static followed, as the three little dots spread out further, keeping their distance as they sneaked towards the building. [b]"Prides Shadow here, Fireteam leader! Can confirm visual! Informants reports seem truthful! MWBoS heraldry confirmed! Request permisson to uncloak and approach!"[/b] Lyons felt a sour taste over this request, before taking a step away from the table. [b]"Permission denied! Distance is to be kept and the fireteam remains in cloaking at all times!"[/b] Where had the MWBoS been when the Citadel fell? Where had they been when she had launched her counter-attack? They came onto her chapters lands now, like scavenging crows, yet she would not let them absorb her chapter in shame and dishonor! They would force her to stand trial in her fathers place, answer for what had been just and honorable! If it werent for her acts, this chapter would have been as dead as the world believed it to be. [b]"Keep an eye on them, but avoid all contract and detection! You will not engage, if the MWBoS is attacked, you hear me? You remain in position and report! Lady-Commander out!"[/b] [hr] [center] [i][b][url=https://i.pinimg.com/474x/36/dc/c6/36dcc69e2e607d1f4bb504dfd533ca8f--fallout.jpg] [b]Harkon, the younger Brother[/b][/url] Barrack 23 / Labor Camp 12 - Hibbing, Minnesota [/b][/i] [/center] [hr] The knife was sharp and when it slipped into the ghouls neck, the eyes sprang open, as a scream was muffled by the younger brother, who pressed his hand hard onto the mouth of the informant. Licking the stumps of his lips, he leaned in closer, as he looked into the dying ghouls eyes. [b]"Shhh, its all over!"[/b] The younger brother could feel the pain and the fear in the ghoul below him, as he pulled out the knife, allowing the rotten blood to flow faster from the cut veins. Finally looking away, the Ghoul let out a sigh, as he cursed his duty, yet for the comming storm, there could be no disloyalty in their ranks. The window was slim, and the order had been given. The Day of liberation came closer and closer, and the force needed to be prepared for it. People like the pitiful worm below him, had earned themselves easy hours, food rations, cigarettes and protection, by giving away information to the guards. Not, that any of them could have come close to the identity of Hastura, she who would liberate them all. Her orders had been whispers, small notices and hints, yet there was no second guessing. She gave the name, and this person would not see another day. Placing the shiv in the other hand of the ghoul, Hakon closed the deads eyes. Just another suicide among many, another muty who could no longer endure the hard labor and the mines. Others raised their heads from their bunks, yet Hakon knew that there was no longer a need for secrecy about the murders in the camp, nor for threats. Most already had sworn devotion to Hastura, she who would bring liberty, while the rest would not dare to speak out against her countless servants in the camp. Calmly, and without haste, Hakon walked out of the Barracks, his shift taken by another ghoul with a forged number, taking his place, serving the great uprising in his own way. Outside the Barrack, he was another huddled shadow among countless others, trying to evade the eyes of the watchmen, yet even the most simple minded slave of the brain in the jar would know that something was off. The MLA logo appeared far more often, the fire was back in some mutants eyes, and a whisper had filled the night...yet even this, was shrouding something darker! For the Brothers did not served a petty revolution, they served the prophet, and his favored servant, Hastura, she who would bring liberty. Few had known of the monolith before, yet the words of the older brother had been seed, falling on fertile ground among the ones without hope. For all were equal in the eyes of he who slumbered, human or mutant. The guards would not know the runes carved into the wood and the inquisitors would be too busy with the threat of the MLA looming, seemingly defeated. Stumbling into him, another prisoners almost fell over, as the younger brother groaned in anger. He felt the paper slipped into his pocket, yet also could see the guard in the edge of his eyes. To not show an reaction would be suspicious! [b]"Watch your step you maggot!"[/b] A kick followed, right into the soft part of the knee, as the younger brother wanted to kick again, before a guard shouted. [b]"Thats enough, you ugly mutants!"[/b] Spitting out, the younger brother stepped away, the paper feeling heavy in his pocket, slowly moving to his own barrack. In its shadow, far from the eyes of the guard, he opened the sheet, before looking at its content. [b]"This week, prepare the faithful and the tools!"[/b] The order had been given, the faithful would answer! [hr] [center] [i][b][url=https://img00.deviantart.net/6101/i/2016/301/8/e/super_mutant_cyborg_by_preciteran-damjt1q.jpg] [b]Cthalpol the Iron[/b][/url] The Long Path of the Prophet - Point Lookout[/b][/i] [/center] [hr] Cthalpol the Irons mouth remained unmoving, as he looked down at the arriving Suttbray and his small escort. Toy soldiers, like Cthalpol had seen so many! They had not bleed in the hills, shivering the in cold of night, and feasted on the flesh of the fallen to endure hardship, that would strip all weakness from them, leaving them hard as iron. He snorted, before stepping closer, his mighty hand calmly taking hold of the bearded mans head. The voice had a sound of grinding metal, sharp as a dagger and cold as the bite of steel. Yet it was lead by a woke mind of a scholar. [b]"Tell me, do you feel in charge of your fate?"[/b] Like wolves, the Cult warriors around moved in closer, men and mutants, scared and grim, veterans of the hills, devoted to the monolith. Their hands rested on looted guns, sharp blades and dark trophies, as they waited for how their leader would react. [b]"I had wished to remain in the hills, for i enjoyed the fight there. Killing the men of Franklin was a hard task, yet each victory, was sweet and nurishing. I learned much from their ways, and would have liked to ended them by my hands. But the prophet has ordered me here, to overlook you, Convert! He has hopes for you, but i have not! I am here, to provide military assistance, yet make no mistake, for if you are found wanting, i shall be your executioner, Mr. Suttbray!"[/b] Letting go of the mans neck, the Super-Mutant stepped past him, as he nodded to one of his warriors, who calmly presented Suttbray with an roll made out of dry, brittle leather, some parts of it sowed together, ink markings still on it. [b]"Half my forces will remain here, to turn this harbor into a fortress of the faith, and paint the swamp red, with all who dare to oppose us! The rest of my army will come with you, and sail to the place you call Jacksonville!"[/b] [hr] The roll, wrapped into human skin felt alien to all touch, almost shivering and alive. Opened, a disgusting smell would come from it, as a single piece of old, damp paper would fall from it. [hider=The Letter] [center][b][i] Suttbray, Your loyalty and service to the monolith has been fortold, yet is accepted by my own hand, for i have forseen great victories in the south. You are to be my herald, bringing the word of the monolith to these shores, and unleash my wrath onto the heaten and unenlightend. Take control over the Keys, and return to the holy city, i myself, shall grant you a visit to the monolith, that you may touch the stone itself. I have send one of my warleaders, to act as your aid, military adviser and executioner, should you fail in your tasks. More so, i task you with protection of Point Lookout itself, and the creation of a fleet, worthy of the monolith! Proof your worth, or die trying! [/i][/b] [/center] [/hider]