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[center] [i][b][url=https://78.media.tumblr.com/80f6236a4f7c554fef5ea1427f8f01b6/tumblr_nywvd4gc4p1ruazzko1_500.png] [b]Thunderfoot[/b][/url] Interstate 15 - Towards Vegas [/b][/i] [/center]
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Salt Lake City burned bright in the darkness of the morning, as the 80s left the city. Thunderfoot knew, that in a year or two, the ash would have given birth to a new city, growing rich of the trade. But today, he had sacked and plundered like his father had, leaving behind nothing but a feast for the crows in his wake. His host had grown, but still would be no match even for a single Khan army. The fall of the city had been a mixture of luck, cunning and the underestimation of the Khans. This would be a mistake Papa Khan would not repeat. Thunderfoot knew, that the old Jackal would never forget the slight he had suffered by the son of Thunderbird and his death would be long and painful, should he fail. Yet he also knew, that his death would mean the end for the 80s as a people. 

They rode slower than ever before, now that thousands of slaves were walking with them and the carts and trucks filled with loot. Driving past Shinji, he could see him laughing and shouting, his hand wrapped around the young woman, he had taken for himself during the raid. [b]"Shinji, that is my name. Named after the greatest and wildest rider that ever lived. He rode to the north and south, making the whole world his highway."[/b] The woman either didnt understood, or didnt wanted to talk, but Shinji kept talking, as if there was one topic he never grew tired of, it was his own name. [b]"While others climbed mountains, he rode up on them, like a true 80. Traveled the whole world, just to find a mountain to ride up on. Now he rides with all our ancestors and feasts in the halls of the painted host and the freckled maid."[/b] Thunderfoot knew that the girl could have found a worse owner, but most likely also a better on. Shinji would not abuse her, but then again, still take her freedom from her. [i]"Would you like to be chained? Never to ride the highway again?"[/i] The words of the slave once more resounded in his head, as he swallowed. But his host needed slaves, for it was his peoples way. 

Pushing his feet into the gas, Thunderfoot pushed on, away from his host, onto the empty highway in front of him. The air rushed past him, as his hair flew open in the wind. Faster and faster he pushed on, his red bike below him roaring loudly to a cheer of his 80s behind him. For a bit, he feared that Shinji would give chase, but Thunderfoot knew, that he would not tempt a race he could not win. 
He was alone, the highways in front of him was his. The sun rose in a deep crimson in the dusty and hot air of the young morning, yet Thunderfoot felt as refreshed by it, as by a cool shower of rain. He was alive, against all odds of the last few days. He could feel the Immortality once more, as he closed his eyes. His heart beat faster as he opened his arms, before shouting out loudly. A long cheer. He had not failed, not died and not forsaken his people. The path was long and dangerous, but he had withstood the first hurdle in his path. 

The next challange would be the crossing of the border into legion territory, yet Thunderfoot had his hopes. The legion was fighting a war on the other side of the sacred highway, and he brought gifts and hostages. He had send his trusted slave forward to negotiate a deal for secure passage through legion land, with a promise of peaceful intentions. 

[center][h3]T H E  C H U R C H  O F  S T A R R Y  G L O R Y [/h3][/center] 
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[center] [i][b][url=https://cdna.artstation.com/p/assets/images/images/005/601/198/large/tatiana-hordiienko-keyra5.jpg?1492362345]Prioress Cabot[/url] New Vegas, The Church of the Starry Glory, Westside [/b][/i] [/center]

The sermon was running like clockwork by now. A warm communion of the faithful, with the common masses down below, firmly pressed together in the limited space, yet still comfy enough not to cause panic of fear. [b]"So many of you are afraid of what tomorrow brings. So many cant stay wake without worries, seeking the thrill or escape, just not to fathom another thought of the worrisome yet inevitable."[/b] The young handsome preacher was standing on a balcony, multiple lights shining at him. His cut hair and sharp suite made him look like a salesman, yet there was a honesty in his voice, that was so rare in vegas, as snow. [b]"But here we are, united to find solace in the embrace of a caring community, warm and welcome. We withstand the tide of sorrow and loneliness. How? By embracing what we are. Stars, bright, glorious and strong. A pillar, who can not be harmed by the aeons. We are unbreakable, unshakable...we are one!"[/b] Countless voices became one, as arms were raised, forming the knot with their fingers. [b]"WE ARE ALL ONE."[/b] There were a few seconds of silence, as the layman once more raised his voice. [b]"Faithful... enlightened... ambitious... brethren, united in this void of purpose, fear, or duty... we shall at long last be free![/b] 

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The Prioress was watching with a smile, up in the highest loge. There was a hint of prominence already present, yet her tree had yet to grow. It was a delicate matter, an intricate game of chess, she had to play, but if a Cabot had one thing in plenty, it was time. The layman preaching had been one of her first converts, a young and talented showman, hoping to strike it big on the strip, but lacking the instinct nor guts to really make it. She had picked him up, before the city would have destroyed him. Now, he was her voice, soon to create other voices. The plant was growing, slowly but steadily, stronger and stronger each day. [b]"Behold the concept, the idea of enlightenment. For a sign will come one very day, that will grant us all a new insight into all the secrets of the universe. A glimmer of immortality. For immortality of our very being, our essence, this is true freedom. All our struggle for material goods, for prestige and recognition is just a childish delay to our true purpose. A purpose that one day, will become abundantly clear."[/b] 
It was a root, carefully planted in the minds and hearts. The cult had done so before and would do so again countless other times. A root that would grow more and more, preparing the soul for true enlightenment. 

She could feel the glow of the piece of the monolith so far below, calling her. For hours, she could look upon it, and lisen to the voices it woke in the back of her mind. How foolish of her brother, to dig in the desert for clarity when it was just here, waiting for him to be understood, not to be found. [b]"Ready your mind, ready your heart and ready your soul. For the day may come, when each one of you, will be required to make a choice. To choose the happiness and eternal satisfaction of true enlightenment, or the pitiful and pathetic existence as a slave to once own cruel and limited reason? Why, i know what i will choose. To be part of a community, to be part of us. The unity that welcomes all!"[/b]

The prioress wanted to clap, but instead just sipped her water with ice, before hearing the knock on the door. Nodding to one of her guards, the door was opened. Lead by another guard, the prioress smiled warm, as she spotted the new fertile ground, for the plant to root in. [i]"Miss Rockwell, i am so glad you could make it. Please, take a seat and have a drink. The sermon has just started and my dear friend Mister Howard has such a moving homily prepared for us. I would be most pleased to introduce you to each other afterwards. We host a modest meal afterwards and would be most happy if you, as a new friend, would join us!" [/i]