Andronicus23

Silver and Blood: A Warhammer Roleplay

Silver and Blood: A Warhammer Roleplay

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Warhammer World Map: gitzmansgallery.com/shdmotwow-full.html


Basic Background:



Karak Eight Peaks, also called the City of Pillars, is a place of ceaseless bloody battle. Once a mighty stronghold of the Dwarven race and one of its greatest kingdoms, the city has fallen to hordes of both Greenskin and Skaven defiliers. After years and years of struggle, in which the Dwarfs fought bitterly for every inch of ground lost, the city eventually fell. The underground portion of the Karak, in which lay the majority of the city and its wealth, eventually fell into Skaven hands through the ingenious plotting of the Council of 13, the dreaded governing body of the Under-Empire, who used countless bodies of rat-kin to achieve their eventual victory. While the Skaven control the under-reaches of the City of Pillars, the surface portion is largely controlled by the Greenskins who have seized what they could and defiled the rest of the Dwarfs ancient ancestral home.



The Dwarfs, however, have not yet yielded the city. And with bitter determination, good dwarven steel and shot (along with a few well placed human mercenaries) they vow to reclaim the Karak inch by inch. While their efforts may constantly be thwarted by Skaven and Orc alike, they can at least take comfort in knowing that the two will happily kill each other almost as equally as their own. So far their bloody efforts have yielded little more than a foothold on the surface, but its given the Greenskins pause to consider that perhaps, the ‘stunties’ aren’t quite finished just yet. There’s still a good fight to be had, and they’ll surely relish the chance to clobber some more.



Meanwhile, the Skaven beneath the city continue their insidious scheming. While they may seem the most secure, with the difficulties of breaching the under levels as daunting as it is, they are far from invulnerable. Indeed, Dwarf and Greenskin incursions into their underground stronghold may be the least of their worries, as various Skaven Clans jockey for power over such a valuable prize as the City of Pillars is, and even amongst individual clans: loyalty is a precious commodity in short supply. After all, who best to be the mighty Warlord of the Pillar City but the lone Skaven who is most willing to kill anyone who stands in his way? Fur or no fur.

Characters:



You have the option to choose from various races and groups in the RP. Skaven, Greenskin, Dwarf, and Human being the most likely choices but not necessarily the only. If you can provide a valid, lore-friendly, reason for a character’s inclusion, then it might be permitted. However, you should be prepared to lose your character at any time, and in fact it's encouraged to try out multiple different characters throughout the RP. The idea is that this is a bloody battle unending, and if your character winds up in a situation where they face certain death: then they should.

Character Sheet:

Name:
Character Portrait: (optional)
Race:
Clan/Faction/Country:
Class Descriptor:
Physical Description:
Weapons/Armor and Gear:
Background:

War Never Changes

Vulpes Inculta, Indianapolis International Airport- Concourse A

“The eyes of mighty Caesar are upon you Vulpes, do not fail him. My armies march ever eastward. The vanguard will be in Indianapolis before the Ides. I wish to have your full report when I arrive, and then I will break the city. I will show Brotherhood and Cult alike how The Legion wages total war.” - Legatus of Triumphant Caesar and his Eastern Legions, Aurelius

Vulpes read the unsealed message written in latin that Aurelius had sent. The Eastern Legions were closing in on the city. Reports were already coming in of their presence on I-74. From the description of the standard made by the locals, Vulpes guessed that Legio XII Infernus led as the vanguard. If the 12th was leading, that meant that Aurelius was most assuredly at the head along with them, as he was wont to personally command his own legion. Time was short then, he needed to finish gathering the information he and his Frumentarii had been collecting so he might present it to the Legatus immediately on arrival. At which point...the assault would commence and blood would flow.

As Primus Frumentarius, it was Vulpes duty to work closely with the Inquisition to attain the information he needed. To that end, Inquisitor Stahl had been most helpful. Despite being a woman, she’d proven herself remarkably clever and resourceful. A most unusual trait for the fairer sex. She would make a fine wife for a Frumentarius, he’d thought to himself, his mind now treading down a far more dissolute path as it conjured up an image. Normally such primitive thoughts were beneath him, but they occasionally still wormed their way in. Of course as head of the Frumentarii, he would never betray the trust Caesar and the Legatus had placed in him by causing trouble with The Brotherhood in such a manner. Yet the temptation was there.

Snapping his attention back to his duty, he stared down at the envelope of material he’d been handed by the Inquisitor as he made his way down to the debriefing room where the Lancer-Sergeant was being held. He was not being charged with a crime or anything of the sort, but his history and status as a former member of the Eastern Chapter were under investigation, if only because The Brotherhood wished to know that they were dealing with the genuine article. The strange encounter he’d had with the cultic woman had caused no small degree of concern as well. Still, as he understood it, this debriefing was more of a formality than anything, and irregularities were not expected. Vulpes had been asked to perform the debriefing both as a show of good faith to The Legion, and to bring an outside perspective. Of which he was more than happy to do.

Vulpes turned the handle on the debriefing room door and stepped inside. Seated at the table with a single unarmed guard to watch over him was the man he assumed to be Lancer-Sergeant Robert Kyle, formerly of the Eastern Chapter of The Brotherhood of Steel. An unmistakably confused expression crossed Robert’s face when he saw Vulpes enter, dressed in full Legion armor with his machete gladius sheathed at his side. Vulpes suppressed a smirk as he noted the man’s intense confusion,

“Ave amicus, is something the matter?”

“No...no not at all,” Robert stammered out, “I mean...they told me that you….that The Legion was...different, but I didn’t...wasn’t sure what to expect I guess.”

“And now you do,” Vulpes replied curtly as he sat down, “You may wish to get acquainted with the look of a soldier of Caesar. I daresay that will become a much more frequent sight in the future...”

“I understand...apologies if I caused offense Mr...uhh..”

“Inculta, Vulpes Inculta. Primus Frumentarius of The Legion. That is all you need know for the time being. And from the information I have been given, your name is Lancer-Sergeant Robert Kyle, correct?”

“Correct.”

Vulpes began shuffling through the documents he’d been given on the Sergeant, “Formerly of the Eastern Chapter, you say you served under Elder Roger Maxson?”

“I did. In the Eastern Chapter, a Lancer is a rank given to vertibird pilots. I flew regular missions right up until Maxson was killed in action, along with most of the chapter. Men and women I’d serve with for years...and was damned proud to.”

“Sergeant Kyle...I’ve read your file thoroughly which contained all the relevant information The Brotherhood was able to get on you, along with your own account of how you ended up here. I won’t bore you by asking you to repeat it in its entirety. There are however, some interesting pieces of information that I wish to probe you for details on, if you would be so kind.” Vulpes’ tone of voice was calm, polite and even friendly, but there was an icey undertone of cynicism to it that threw Robert off-guard...and frightened him.

“Why did Roger Maxson travel to The Commonwealth with his army?”

“To fight The Institute, or at least, we thought it was to fight The Institute. Now I’m not so sure I guess, but everyone understood that to be the plan. Even those who didn’t go with Maxson knew why.”

“Yes exactly, this ‘Institute’ is what I’m most interested in. Who are they and why did Maxson feel the need to lead such a large expedition northwards to counter them?”

Robert leaned back and thought for a few moments, “Well...I can’t say I honestly know much about them, but from what Maxson told us. The Institute is, or was, some sort of secret society of scientists. They were supposed to be hiding somewhere in Boston and creating all manner of dangerous technology. The type of technology that we in The Brotherhood think needs to be eliminated or at the very least strictly controlled. Maxson believe it was his duty to bring The Institute to heel once and for all and drag the boogeymen out from under the bed and into the light.”

“And so what happened when you arrived in Boston?”

“Well...nothing actually. Nothing at all. We never found The Institute. Maxson had us scouring every corner of The Commonwealth searching for leads. All the while we were burning precious fuel and food resources spinning our heels. Eventually we began to think that, maybe, Maxson was wrong and The Institute didn’t really exist at all. Many people in The Commonwealth told us the exact same thing: that they were just a myth. Finally, I think Maxson began to lose it. He became obsessed with finding them and so he began to turn on the people of The Commonwealth, believing they were “harboring” them somehow. Soon he began to demand tributes of food and supplies, but then that turned to forced conscription...and then things got out of hand from there.”

“Go on,” Vulpes encouraged, “How did it get out of hand?”

“We began to meet resistance from the local populace. Farmers not wanting to give up portions of their crops...mothers not wishing to see their sons taken and trained to be Brotherhood fighters…pretty soon we were fighting The Commonwealth itself.”

“And how did it end?”

“Badly, obviously,” Robert replied, his eyes widened as he thought back, “I was out on a routine verti-patrol when it happened. Logan Airport was attacked by local insurgents. We think, or at least us survivors thought, it was some kind of cooperative attack between elements of a local militia called The Minutemen and a mercenary group called The Gunners. Neither group had got along well in the past, in fact The Gunners had done a number to The Minutemen not long before we got there, but as they say ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’ and both of them had cause to hate us. I don’t know what happened exactly, but they brought down The Prydwen with hidden explosives I was told, and after that The Brotherhood’s defense just crumbled. Everyone at the airport was massacred, including Maxson. After that, the survivors attempted to rally but we were hounded at every step and too few in number to mount any kind of effective counter attack. Pretty soon I was the only one left…”

“And so you came here after all that?”

“Yes,” Robert nodded, “I felt it my duty to report to the Midwestern Elder what had occured, and to join the fight here. Even if my brothers and sisters are dead...I know that The Brotherhood itself still lives, and that’s good enough for me.”

“One final question, if you please,” Vulpes said, not lifting his eyes from the paper or even checking to see if Robert had agreed, “Do you believe The Institute actually existed?”

“No..I don’t think they did,” Robert sighed, “I think Maxson was wrong...and I think he cost the lives of everyone under his command because he refused to accept it.”

“Thank you,” Vulpes nodded, “You’ve been most helpful.” He then proceeded to pack up the document and close them all back up into the envelop before standing up and stepping out of the debriefing room, “I bid you vale Sergeant Kyle.”

“Uhh….vale? I mean...goodbye.”

---

Vulpes returned to Inquisitor Stahl with his report, handing her the detail notes he had prepared.

“I do not believe that the Lancer-Sergeant is a cult spy or anything of the sort,” Vulpes mentioned as he let her read through the document, “He is not lying, of that I can be certain of. He has neither the tone, or posture, nor the slightest hesitation in anything he says. I can only conclude then that he believes everything he is saying to be true. I will be honest Inquisitor, the only thing I find strange about his story is the matter of this ‘Institute’ that he refers to. It makes little sense to me why Elder Maxson, who I can only assume was an experienced Brotherhood commander, would risk so much manpower, equipment, and resources traveling north on a lark. Surely he must have had some sort of evidence of their existence to risk so much? Evidence, perhaps, that none but he and his inner circle were privy to. But then to travel all that way, find nothing, and then steadfastly refuse to leave? Its...its not the moved I would expect. I feel as though we are missing some piece of the story that could explain this. Then again, tactical blunders have been made by many so-called great men throughout history. Perhaps this is just another in a long line of commanders who are forever cursed to be relegated to footnotes…”

“In any case my work here is done. I’m sorry I could not be more help,” Vulpes bowed, “I’m afraid that I must ride to the Legatus at first light. We shall meet again soon Inquisitor, when our armies arrive here...we shall deliver the city into your hands. You can be sure of that…”

Desmond Lockheart - New York City

Desmond winced as he finished off the last of the Manhattan he’d ordered. A shiver ran down his spine and he nearly gagged,

“What a piss-ridden cocktail,” He growled as he set the empty glass down, “These post-war fucks wouldn’t know a decent mixed drink if they had to make it to save their life….at least the smokes are decent.”

Desmond puffed a few times on a hand-rolled cigarette as he stared around the longue at a number of well-dressed patrons. He was...unsurprisingly...a bit underdressed for the establishment, but few seemed to mind. The occasional dirty look was worth it to have a quiet place to drink and have a smoke..even if the drinks tasted like piss water. Hey, at least they weren’t trying to kick him out for being a ghoul. That was a courtesy he didn’t often get.

After taking another puff of his cigarette and letting the smoke waft around him, he flagged down the bartender, waving him over,

“You wouldn’t to happen to know where I could catch a ride to The Free Commonwealth would you? Visiting an old friend and such. Long story.”

The bartender rolled his eyes, annoyed to have to play travel agent to his foul-mouthed ghoul in addition to being a bartender,

“Might ask those gentlemen over there, I hear they're in from The Free Commonwealth....you can tell because they’re giving dirty looks to everyone that’s actually having a good time....and they were trying to pass out Bibles earlier...”

“Them?” Desmond pointed to a number of strangely dressed individuals seated to one corner of the bar. The Bartender nodded.

“The fuck? Where the bloody hell am I headed to? The Quaker Oats Kingdom? Goddamnit Thomas...” Desmond smashed his cigarette into a nearby tray and grabbed his hat and bag, “What kind of fucking ‘magical adventure’ did you send me on…”

War Never Changes

Caesar Lucius, Imperator of The Legion

“Let us hold fast for the moment,” Lucius stood as Barnaky and The King had finished speaking. The entrance of the NCR and Texan delegates had caused a bit of stir, but nothing that couldn’t be solved with a little bit of order, “There is much to discuss here. I assure you all that we will get to each and every one of the issues that has been put forth. If I might bring some focus to this discussion however, let me first address the item that is most concerning to me. I feel too, that without resolution to this, we will not get far in this meeting.”

“First, I would like to welcome the delegates of Texas and the NCR military. Your presence here is necessary to ensure that what I wish to accomplish is done. As the neutral party in this affair, I hope that Texas may be able to ensure a smooth mediation and a fair agreement.”

Lucius sat down once again and folded his hands in front of him, he looked directly at the NCR delegates sitting aside President Harris,

“The first and foremost item of the agenda is this: I wish to formally end the war between the NCR and Legion. My terms are simple and direct: a continuation of the terms laid out between myself and General Lee Shu during the general armistice and a formal treaty of non-aggression. Under the terms of the armistice, all remaining NCR POWs that have rejected the Legion’s offer will be returned home by the end of the month. Finally, and most importantly, the NCR will accept full responsibility for the actions of its military and President Kimball Jr. The cause of the war, and its conclusion, will be laid squarely at the former President’s feet. The NCR Government will issue a formal condemnation of Kimball Jr, his administration, and his foolish invasion which ended any hope of diplomacy winning out before it could even begin. Those are MY terms, and I will accept nothing less than that. Given the circumstances, I think they are more than generous.”

El Dorado Substation, Nevada

Darkness engulfed the substation, the surviving caravan guards and scientists waited anxiously as their eyes tried to adjust. Suddenly there was a voice that cut through the blackness, one all of them were quite sure they’d not heard amongst those previously gathered..

“Oh boy….what have you done this time Robert?”

“Backup power coming online now!” One of the scientists shouted. Suddenly the lights flickered on once more, and the visage of House’s face on the large screen returned with it.

The survivors gasped when they saw a party of individuals standing atop the strange devices platform. One was a man in his mid-to-late 30s, wearing a pair of eyeglasses, neatly combed hair, and a stark white lab coat emblazoned with a vitruvian symbol. Next to him was a woman with fiery red hair, and a red and white form fitting jumpsuit. Finally two dour looking figures stood to either side of them: clad in dark armored coats and carrying strange energy weapons.

“The hell happened here? What’d you bloody idiots do? You could have got us killed! Christ just look at this place…” The red haired woman yelled out with a thick Boston-Irish accent.

“Now now Cait, there’s nothing to be worried about,” Thomas began examining the wreckage around him with a keen eye, almost as if he was making mental notes, “Signal strength at The Institute was excellent and the failsafe would have triggered if the relay was incomplete. We were never in any real danger. Most likely what happened is a failure to properly disperse the intense amount of energy on this end. Overloaded the fragile pre-war system and caused the mess you see here. Would you agree with that Robert?” Thomas turned to the television monitor with a grin.

One of the Coursers lifted a hand to his ear, “Successful transfer SRB. Relay complete.”

Karak Eight Peaks RP Interest Check (Warhammer Fantasy)

If anyone has suggestions to implement the RP, let me know. I'm not an expert in Warhammer lore by any means, so I'm all ears.

Karak Eight Peaks RP Interest Check (Warhammer Fantasy)

Karak Eight Peaks RP

Warhammer World Map: gitzmansgallery.com/shdmotwow-full.html

Basic Background:



Karak Eight Peaks, also called the City of Pillars, is a place of ceaseless bloody battle. Once a mighty stronghold of the Dwarven race and one of its greatest kingdoms, the city has fallen to hordes of both Greenskin and Skaven defiliers. After years and years of struggle, in which the Dwarfs fought bitterly for every inch of ground lost, the city eventually fell. The underground portion of the Karak, in which lay the majority of the city and its wealth, eventually fell into Skaven hands through the ingenious plotting of the Council of 13, the dreaded governing body of the Under-Empire, who used countless bodies of rat-kin to achieve their eventual victory. While the Skaven control the under-reaches of the City of Pillars, the surface portion is largely controlled by the Greenskins who have seized what they could and defiled the rest of the Dwarfs ancient ancestral home.



The Dwarfs, however, have not yet yielded the city. And with bitter determination, good dwarven steel and shot (along with a few well placed human mercenaries) they vow to reclaim the Karak inch by inch. While their efforts may constantly be thwarted by Skaven and Orc alike, they can at least take comfort in knowing that the two will happily kill each other almost as equally as their own. So far their bloody efforts have yielded little more than a foothold on the surface, but its given the Greenskins pause to consider that perhaps, the ‘stunties’ aren’t quite finished just yet. There’s still a good fight to be had, and they’ll surely relish the chance to clobber some more.



Meanwhile, the Skaven beneath the city continue their insidious scheming. While they may seem the most secure, with the difficulties of breaching the under levels as daunting as it is, they are far from invulnerable. Indeed, Dwarf and Greenskin incursions into their underground stronghold may be the least of their worries, as various Skaven Clans jockey for power over such a valuable prize as the City of Pillars is, and even amongst individual clans: loyalty is a precious commodity in short supply. After all, who best to be the mighty Warlord of the Pillar City but the lone Skaven who is most willing to kill anyone who stands in his way? Fur or no fur.

Characters:



You have the option to choose from various races and groups in the RP. Skaven, Greenskin, Dwarf, and Human being the most likely choices but not necessarily the only. If you can provide a valid, lore-friendly, reason for a character’s inclusion, then it might be permitted. However, you should be prepared to lose your character at any time, and in fact it's encouraged to try out multiple different characters throughout the RP. The idea is that this is a bloody battle unending, and if your character winds up in a situation where they face certain death: then they should.

Character Sheet:

Name:
Race:
Clan/Faction/Country:
Class Descriptor:
Physical Description:
Weapons/Armor and Gear:
Background:

Any interest?

War Never Changes

Indiana Border

A solemn figure clutched at his disheveled cloak as he pressed his hands against a pitifully low burning fire, one he’d attempted to keep burning since the early morning. The wastelander sat atop one of the bluffs overlooking old Highway 36. The sorry excuse for a meal he’d tried to prepare with the meagre amount of wood and kindling he’d been able to gather this morning was little more than a radroach, and it was not nearly fully cooked. It was disgusting, but it was protein and energy. He would need both if he expected to make his way to Tuscola. His flight from the Cult’s ever growing reach had been a hard one, and he was desperately hoping to take refuge in Brotherhood lands. It was his only choice.

As the wastelander sat there, cursing his poor fortune and the empty stomach that he’d suffered with all last night, he became keenly aware of some sort of commotion coming down the Highway. While he’d camped on the bluffs, he’s campsite was well out of sight of the road, and so he quickly sat up and crept his way through the underbrush and over to the edge, deciding it best to keep a low profile while tried to ascertain the source of the strange sounds.

His eyes widened with astonishment. Thousands of men marched below him with armor unlike any he’d seen before. The column stretched on for miles, engulfing the road in a tide of crimson. He backed away immediately….he knew he had to leave. If there was an army this large marching through, then they’d almost certainly…..

“Hold there wastel…”

….have scouts.

He turned to find three soldiers coming up behind him from the treeline, each wore the same strange armor as the army that marched below. A snarling dog was held tightly by one of them. Two held rifles, while one held a sharpened spear at the ready. They conversed with one another in a language he couldn’t hope to understand. The one with the spear approached him.

“I’m not a sp...” He tried to say before the butt of the spear crashed against his head, and his vision went dark.

Dunwich Borers LLC Quarry

“No wait! Please!” A raider scrambled desperately backwards on the floor, hand outstretched in a plea for mercy: something he himself would never have extended to his many victims. X6 continued approaching the man coldly with pistol raised. Without the word the Courser shot the man through the head with a single blue tinged laser blast and simply stepped over his body.

X6 looked up and out the open window of the overlooking structure towards the Quarry below. All along the rim and basin of the carved rock face, blue tinged laser fire burnt flesh, leather, and armor as a force of Coursers eradicated the raiders that had taken up residence here. The rag-tag group of wasteland junkies stood little chance against the deadly efficiency of the Institute’s attack dogs. The surprise attack was over in mere moments, leaving only a few remaining wounded to mop up. X6 turned to acknowledge one of his Coursers approaching up the gantry to give his report,

“All of the surface dwellers have been killed sir. The rest have fled deeper into the Quarry.”

“We’ll follow them in shortly,” X6 said as he popped the spent energy cell out of his pistol and replaced it with a fresh one, “Now that they’re aware of our attack. They’re bound to be more prepared now. I will signal the scavenger teams and inform them that the surface is clear to begin their investigation.”

The Institute - Advanced Systems Laboratory

“The power requirements alone will be staggering Director. I’m not entirely sure we can even guarantee enough with the reactor fully online and the entire Eastern Massachusetts power grid at our disposal. And what about our...associate in this matter?” Dr. Madison Li stood inside her office glaring at Thomas, her perpetually sour faced expression had not changed one iota in the past fifteen minutes. As always, Li tried to be the voice of reason, or in the opinion of some of the Advanced Systems team: a spoil sport.

“He’s more than capable of figuring it out,” Thomas replied, “ And with Hoover Dam operational, he should have what we needs on his end as well. Need I remind you this is a trial run Dr. Li, you have to break a few eggs to make an omelet......I assume that’s still an expression people use now?”

Madison sighed, “It is...and very well. I’ll make sure my team is ready for the power transfer. I’ll do my best to prepare them. We’d better notify SRB as well...this energy spike could be huge.”

“Everyone who needs to know, already does,” Thomas said with a smirk, “You can be sure of that, Dr. Li.”

War Never Changes

Nuka World, Nuka Town USA

The sounds of fierce battle filled the streets of Nuka Town as the Operators began their purge. Spurred on by The Institute’s promise of a mutually beneficial relationship, the Black siblings had launched their long awaited plan to seize Nuka Town for their own, and eliminate the other two gangs. Despite the element of surprise things had not gone entirely to plan. The initial strategy devised by William and Mags was to attack and quickly destroy The Pack with overwhelming force before Nisha and her Disciples even had a chance to learn what was going on. However Mason and his gang had not proven easy to dislodge from their little warren. Mags and William both had given a brief moment of introspection to this, and realized how much they’d underestimated Mason’s crew. They’d made a huge miscalculation, and paid the price.

Finally Mason had been killed, albeit only after taking out a few Operators by himself as he fought like a cornered bear. With that done, they could focus their attention on The Disciples. Unfortunately, the delay caused had left The Disciples with time to figure out what was happening and ready themselves. Now, Mags and William found themselves attempting to breach the Fizztop mountain courtyard, which The Disciples had barricaded and now fiercely guarded, leading The Operators into a choke point.

It was here the battle had stalled, and things were getting desperate,

“Fucking mask wearing creeps!” William yelled out over the din of automatic gunfire as he ducked behind a ‘Cappy and Bottle’ statue.

“Will!” Mags yelled to her brother. She could hear bullets whizzing past her head as she lay down behind the fountain, “They're trying to buy time! They’re going to make a run for it!”

“I can see that Sis!” William snarled as he unloaded a few shots at the barricade. One of the bullets struck a female Disciple, and she crumpled to the ground.

Mags could already hear the shots of the Operators she’d sent to swing around the side of Fizztop, evidently having run into Disciples that had been moved to counter just such an encirclement. Nisha was a bloodthirsty monster, but she wasn’t stupid. Mags cursed herself for not realizing that she should have been their first target, not Mason. Mason never possessed the cunning that Nisha had always showed.

“What the fuck do we do now Sis?” William called out again. Mags had always been the brain to William’s brawn. He was no dummy himself, but he’d always relied on Mags to figure out a way to get them out of tight spot. And a tight spot they were in.

“Damnit!” Mags cried out and pounded her fist on the ground, “I really didn’t want to have to do this….this was our fight! Noone elses!”

She withdrew a small white cylindrical object from her pocket, a red electrical warning label was stamped to its side. She pulled the pin and tossed it over the barricade.

“The fuck was that?” William asked incredulously, “The hell did you just do? Was that a goddamn grena...”

Suddenly flashes of blue light began appearing atop and over the barricade, along with the sounds of laser fire….and numerous mechanical voices.

“By order of The Institute, you must be destroyed.”

William knew exactly what she’d done, and he wasn’t happy, “You signaled them?”

“Had no other choice. We fucked up. Plain and simple,” Mags grumbled as she came to her feet. The gunfire had begun to lull as the screams of surprised Diciples faded away with it. A Gen-1 Synth poked its head around the makeshift barricade before stepping out into full view.

“Operation complete. No hostile lifesigns detected in area.”

“Good no lets….wait none at all? What about inside Fizztop?” A worried look crossed Mag’s face.

“No lifesigns detected.”

Mags let out an enraged scream that surprised her brother, “What? What is it?” He pleaded with her for an answer.

“Nisha’s already gone!” Mags fumed, “They escaped!”

---

Back at Institute SRB, Dr. Secord had watched the entire scene unfold with a discerning eye. The Watchers had captured everything she’d needed for her report,

“Not a good first impression,” She muttered to herself as she ejected the recording holotape. They’d captured footage of The Disciples leaving through the back entrance as well, scattering to the hillside like scrambling rodents. She could order a pursuit, but it seemed pointless. What was one more outcast raider gang amongst the innumerable in the wastes? After The Institute’s synths had appeared, she quite doubted too that they’d ever return to bother Nuka World again. And she cared little for where they went beyond that.

---

Nisha tracked the groups of her Disciples streaming in, scattered as they were, as they began to rally up on the other side of the mountains. Dixie approached her, with a hand held to her hip and speaking in that incessantly polite southern twang that hid the true darkness of her soul almost as much as her Mask did,

“Looks like the gang’s gettin’ back together Nisha honey,” She chirped, “Got ourselves out of a bit of a tight spot didn’t we? So where we headin’ now boss? We gunna go back and gut William and Maggy? I wouldn’t mind a few swipes at that pretty little face of Maggy’s myself.”

Nisha didn’t bother to turn to her, instead she gazed down at the scrap of crudely skinned hide she held. She didn’t doubt for a moment that the hide most likely hadn’t been that of an animal. It had come to her via a trader, one of many that frequented Nuka World. Something about that one had made her uneasy however, and now she knew why.

A strange symbol lay tattooed on the hide scrap. The same symbol she’d seen calling to her in her dreams for the past year….and now...it told her where to go next,

“West,” She said simply, as she hid the mark back within her clenched fist, “We go west.”

Gunner’s Plaza - GNN Newsroom

“You’re serious then Colonel? We’re actually going through with this?”

Lt. Kilhorn’s confused expression shifted from face to face, first to Captain Wes, then Colonel Cypress and Commander Kaylor. The three commanding officers of the Gunners sat before him on what used to be the old newsroom table,

“Yeah, and why not? It's a job ain’t it? Are you telling me The Gunners should take contracts from anyone but The Institute?” The gruff voice of the aging Colonel was hoarse but still commanding. Kilhorn involuntary chafed under the reproach.

“I don’t think it's just a job Colonel,” Kilhorn meekly replied, “They’re trying to control us.”

“HA!” That’s a good one, Commander Kaylor threw back her head in a laugh, “As if. They’re just looking for some extra muscle. They know damn well they can’t control us. Besides what's the point? As long as they stay underground or in space, or wherever the hell they are, then we get full run of the surface right? Do as we please.”

“Institute caps wouldn’t hurt either. I’m sure they’ve got plenty enough to give us,” Captain Wes added, “We’ll be set for life.”

“I’m not saying we shouldn’t take a job from them….but..”

“And just what are you saying boy?” The Colonel growled, “Because it sounds to me like you’re saying you’re going to disobey a direct order from Gunner command. Do I have that right?”

“No sir,” Kilhorn suddenly snapped to attention, all thoughts of doubt erased by years of regimented discipline, “Forgive me sir. I spoke hastily. I'll let the other officers know your decision right away. Thank you sir.”

“See that you do. Dismissed.”

With that, Kilhorn gave a salute and turned sharply to walk out the door of the studio, leaving the Gunner leaders behind.

Colonel Cypress turned to Kaylor and Wes briefly, giving them a nod of understanding which they returned in kind. Cypress raised a hand to his ear,

“SRB...this is Unit B3-45 reporting. Operation complete.”

War Never Changes

Caesar Lucius

“Then let us divide the Khan lands at the end of this war. This war in the east will finish with our victory. When our forces have returned west, after the appropriate period of recuperation, we can fall upon the Khans from the west and south. Would that be agreeable to you Caesar?”

Lucius shook his head, “Forgive me High Elder, I’ve not made my intention clear in this discussion. I will not declare war on the Khans without provocation, without casus belli. Sallow was a conqueror, Kimball Jr….tried to be...both men met untimely fates because of their hubris. I don’t intend to follow either to the grave. The Legion I’m forging...is one I intend to be a more stable and productive state than either of them ruled. If you intend to attack the Khans...I will not stop you. As I said, The Legion and the Khans, while amicable, are not allied and I’ve no obligation to rise to their defense. They’ve taken Legion gold in exchange for oaths of battle, but that is all. That being said….I would desire that The Legion be permitted to offer terms of peaceful annexation to the lands of New Canaan and northern Utah. I want to gain what I seek through diplomacy for a change….not warfare. Something Sallow never considered.”

At this point one of the servants handed Lucius a message, indicating that it was from someone waiting outside in the foyer. Lucius quickly read the missive from Barnaky and looked up to see the Lord of The Midwest awaiting the response. Lucius motioned for him to join them. He had no intention of hiding this from Barnaky, nor did it seem, did Gladstone from the tone of his voice.

“However,” he continued, “If you are content to wait until after the war in the east is decided to resolve this, then I’m content with that oath and welcome your support and pledge to do so.”

Once Barnaky entered the room, Lucius address him directly,

“Ave Lord Barnaky,” Lucius said as he rose to meet the robotic construct that served as his proxy, “This meeting has been overdue for far too long, hasn’t it? Please join us.”

Once Barnaky was seated, Gladstone outline his full intentions to join the war, and spoke of an alliance to be forged. Lucius nodded in agreement,

“Your support is welcome, as I previously mentioned. Legatus Aurelius even now marches east to engage the cult. I fear the war will claim many more bodies before the cult is finally defeated.”

War Never Changes

Caesar Lucius

“I will raise up the Western Brotherhood to heights it has never known before, we will stride forth and scour the mutant from the land and purge the barbarism of the raiders. As for the Great Khans, I shall be frank. I do not hold anything against them, if it is Caesar’s wish I shall leave them be.”

“Or, perhaps we could carve up their lands between us? An alliance between us would I think be a way to constrain the New Californian Republic from ever moving against us again. An entente against them, you to the south and southeast, and the brotherhood to the north and northeast. I suggest the old highway 80 be the new borders between our lands. And perhaps, befitting of your marital connections, the former lands of New Canaan and all the Mormon territories could be rendered unto Caesar as well?”

Lucius sighed and sat back in his chair, his mind racing with a number of different thoughts. This was going to prove to be an….interesting start to this meeting,

“You put me in an awkward position High Elder. First, to your offer, I cannot deny that reclaiming New Canaan from the Khans has long been a secret desire of mine. Consider it the sentimentality of a husband to his wife, and the desire to right a wrong that I indirectly played a part in by serving Sallow. Had Sallow not encouraged the White Legs to destroy New Canaan, perhaps those lands would still be in the New Canaanites care and out of the Khans hands. Part of me wishes to accept your offer without hesitation...” Lucius gave a sidelong glance to his wife, waiting out in the foyer. She was not aware of the conversation currently going on in the meeting room, and appeared to be discussing some hospitality matters with a few of the household slaves.

“However,” he continued, resuming eye contact with Gladstone, “As I mentioned before The Legion has amicable enough relations with The Khans, and they've proved to be reliable thus far. Even now, Khan mercenaries are fighting side-by-side with your Brothers, and mine, against the greater foe we face in the east. Does that not give you pause at least to consider the implications of war with them? I wonder too, what Lord Barnaky might say about yet another war flaring up in the west. When the true war now lies east.”

War Never Changes

Desmond Lockheart - On the Road to Pittsburgh, Outside Yonkers

Desmond strained his eyes as he stared towards the towering broken structures of what used to be the old world city of New York. His recent trip via the molecular relay had left him with a stomach churning sensation, and although The Institute’s personnel had assured him that use of the relay conferred no ill effects, he wasn’t fond of traveling with it. He’d seen enough of those cheesy B-movie horror flicks before the war where some brilliant scientist accidentally teleported half of his body or some other poor sod’s right into oblivion. He didn’t like to use it, and would have preferred his own two feet if he could spare the time.

Still, he couldn’t help but admire its efficiency and speed of travel. The Institute had calibrated the relay to the furthest extent of their comfortable transmission range. It had taken a hell of a lot of power, and would it been entirely impossible if not for The Institute’s cold fusion reactor, but it had manage to drop him not far outside the outskirts of New York, which was a rather considerable distance to travel quickly even in the pre-war world.

SRB had loaded him up with enough provisions to last a good long awhile, but he needed information and speedy, discrete, transport to Pittsburgh, if such a thing was possible. He might find both in New York and if not there, then in The Free Commonwealth, his next destination. The potential difficulties of the journey were not lost on him. He’d heard Pittsburgh was a hell-hole after the war, but rumour was that now it was even worse.

“The hell am I doing this for anyway?” He muttered to himself as he heaved his supply satchel up and over his grimy overcoat. He then stared down at his rotten, necrotic hands, rubbing his fingers together lightly as he tried to remember what it felt like to have skin that didn’t peel off every time he touched it. Thomas’s promise of a new body, a return to what he once was, flooded his mind. It was a gamble...but he had to trust the pre-war popsicle to hold up his end of the bargain.

“Right then,” He sighed, and he double checked to make sure his 9mm was secured by his side, “On the road again….for the upteenth time in a fuckin’ century.”

Caesar Lucius, Santa Fe - Palace of Caesar

“As I see that I am the first to arrive, might I be presumptuous, and enquire as to any matters you might wish to raise with the western brotherhood? Might I suggest an exchange of ambassadors and perhaps the establishment of a trade agreement between our civilisations? In additions to any other matters Caesar wishes to raise with my nation.”

“Ave Elder, and firstly, I thank you for the gifts. They were unnecessary, but not unwelcome. I’ll gladly accept such generosity,” Lucius nodded to a couple of Praetorians standing guard at the doorway, and motioned for them to take the chests of finery away so that they would not clutter up the meeting room.

“As for your second question, yes, I think there is a matter we should discuss. Have a seat. The matter I wanted to discuss with you specifically, Elder, and one of the primary reasons for your invitation to this gathering was to allay some concerns. Your recent militaristic reform of The Brotherhood hasn’t gone unnoticed, especially by your neighbors. The Great Khans. The Khans are not allies of the Legion, and indeed many of them still harbor resentment against us after the learned what Sallow had planned for them in Vegas….however we have good enough relations as it stands. And those Khans who are friendly to the Legion have expressed doubts that your intentions in the region will remain peaceful.”

He paused for a few seconds and leaned in, “And so I'll ask you bluntly, are their doubts unfounded?”