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3 yrs ago
Current Fallout Tactics has death claws that can talk, scary killer robots, and the ability to have a tank. It just doesn't... Sit well with the rest of lore.
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4 yrs ago
Very sick, will post when not hurting.
4 yrs ago
I'm awake at weird hours again.
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4 yrs ago
Drank a lot last night currently recuperating with large bottle of water and black eyed peas to eat. Happy New Year guild.
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4 yrs ago
Merry Christmas to all!
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Night's Watch


Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come.


Order Description:
The Night's Watch have fallen from their once loft ambitions, once tens of thousands men stood upon the walls and stared out into the North waiting for the enemy to come. Many have forgotten the purpose and reason as to why the Night's Watch must stand but the magic in the wall, strange bundles of Dragonglass daggers found in their castles, and more tell another story. One the current Lord Commander intends to uncover to understand the history and work behind his seat.

Currently the Night's Watch stands at around three thousand five hundred men ready to fight and die to hold the wall against the Wildlings from beyond it. They know of other threats many do not believe in yet those who go beyond on the wall who listen to the Wildlings speak and the stories from the far north know. Ice Dragons, Giants, Ice Spiders, and perhaps even the Others are real... Yet for now the Wildlings are gathering, reports from Rangers say that the clans are fighting harder and allying together. For what reason who can say yet... They all know the world is a dangerous place and the one beyond the wall is like the one from the age of Heroes, men of the world not the dangers they are protected from.

Recent History:
The Night's Watch has recovered some strength since the Dance of the dragons and peace more law and order have as well as removal of schemers and traitors has helped to fill the ranks out. The North who has prospered over the last fifty years has had many sons and volunteers come forth to join the Crows. Though their glory days are long behind with this surge the Lord Commander has begun a new mission, learning more about what is beyond the wall and mapping it so future generations might know more.

The Rangers have greatly increased their numbers and more importantly the builders have used the extra man power to fortify Castle Black and the other fortresses with the intent to use the time well. They have expanded the navy of galleys as well, the Night's Watch wants to use it's limited time to prepare even scouring libraries and looking their old castles, they seek to know about the ancient brothers who came before. Of course their is even rumors of a ranging coming to look into a tale the wildlings have told for centuries of a horn that might bring down the wall.

The Brothers:

Lord Commander Willwyn Forrester

First Steward Gillan Flint

First Builder Harlwyle Ryswell


Two months before the tourney...

Barth Blacksword breathed in the fresh air, next to him his little brother Brandon, The Wolf Lord as they called him, to him it was still just Branny, his shit little brother running around hugging to his their mothers leg and watching him train. Now here they were, his brother a famed fighter in the south, respected among the North, and having three loving children he wasn't the little boy who watched warriors return from Dorne exhausted and worn.

They had been out in the Wolfswood hunting together having snuck out when their men weren't able to catch them, both brother's missing the days when they could run and do as they pleased. The crisp wind biting across them as they took shelter under a large ironwood tree in the wood, Brandon producing a flask taking a long drink before passing it to the man next to him as they both sat in the snow wrapped in heavy furs, distant howls of wolves in the distance.

"You are leaving for that big tourney in the south, aye Branny?" Barth asked laying his spear down as he looked out towards the deeper parts of the wood. "Taking all the lads to give them southern knights a good trashing? Remind'em we don't need a sept to turn men into warriors that can knock'em from a horse and bury a blade in their belly." Barthogan smiled turning back towards his brother looking over the younger Stark as he shook his head laughing.

"You act is if I was once some great warrior down their unseating the greatest knights in the seven kingdoms, I'm good Barth... But I'm older now. It's the boys time... This will be Mathias's first big tourney, your boy wants to do you proud." He added looking at Barth who took another long drink.

"I know he does... I love him so much... But I don't want him caught up in our struggles... Gods I wanted to go to the wall but then Jonnel couldn't knock a girl up... So here I sit, now I'm passing Winterfell on to you... Just to keep it out of the hands of our blackheart brother and his inclination to take wed us to the fucking dragons. Our father was a fucking fool to lead our boys south to fight for them, no blonde wench is worth the lives of northern men, the tears of our women, and suffering of the north." He spoke bitter it seemed over a lifetime of losing out on what he wanted. "You, little brother better take damn good care of our home. You killed a dire wolf, walk around wearing it's pelt like a badge of honor Wolf Lord. I don't say it often enough... But you are the right man to take Winterfell, the Lords up here adore you, no one foreign or northern has a bad word to say about Brandon Stark the Wolf Lord you just finally make that old wolf happy." He sighed turning back towards Winterfell thinking on the crypts bellow.

Brandon sighed. "You have years to go before I take this place old man, now... You want to catch that deer or we going back to tell my wife two of us can't find any dinner the forest?" They both laughed, bow and spear in hand they trudged onward into the snow.

One month before the tourney...

Brandon has finished gathering up the horses and wagons ice, beer, furs, and more to bring southward. For company merchants, warriors, and more who wished to test their metal in the south against these knights. Barth meanwhile prepared his men, reports from Skagos were scarce as always but the true concern was that there was silence after stories of the different houses there being united. As the Blacksword prepared his men to ride eastward their host seek aid from the Karstarks to try and get news on what was coming. Winter was at it's end and it meant soon it was time to prepare for another Winter, the smallfolk back in the fields and harder to gather up it's why he had gathered the force now rather than trying to recall them all later.

His children, his wife, and his nephew as well as many others from the Houses of the North young men and women eager to see the sights and hear the music of the new spring in the verdant south. In lands of wine and honey they were no doubt thinking of trysts and trouble they could get themselves into Ashe was testing his bow string as gave Beylee pointers on how to draw it back, Mathias and Gryffith sat side by side discussing battle tactics and other knights they might see at the tourney.




Edric meanwhile walked the wall, he had sent letters and at the last family gathering his pleas fell on deaf ears, he would never be lord of Winterfell as long as Barthogan was alive. But with Brandon away and the word of the south begging urges to rebel he had sent letters and lined pockets. His sons were already down south to talk and walk among his potential allies. Cregard and Torrhen would bring his words and offers to Blackfyre, when Barthogan fell the North would belong to the patient.

His sons had orders to secure themselves good marriages he had held back giving them to northern houses where sense of duty and honor might betray following him to war. In the south he had little concern of that, of course House Mormont and Bolton would more than likely back Brandon, The Wolf Lord, the avenger of Lord Cregan of Winterfell few of the houses in the North trusted the old and tired man and even fewer wanted his sons, his fangs to the position after him. Edric didn't care it was his, Winterfell... All of it was to be his, he would fulfill what his father had no stomach for make the north a real power in the seven kingdoms. He was more willing to bring the wall down, to burn the fields, and salt the earth than to let his brother's make a fool of him he who had carried Rickon home, who had studied hard in both north and south, he who had the ambition to be more than a Warden... They were fools and he never could stand a fool.

The Tourney.

The Twin Fang's were present, Torrhen and Cregard had been southward awhile. Cregard had been sitting quietly reading a book on southern knighthoods and their importance to the Seven he'd never pretend to understand the faith here but he could try and at least not mess up around them. His father wanted them to be closer with the south, he'd thought of talking with some of the noble women but honestly he was never the biggest flirt. Better to make your intentions plain and get right to what you wanted to be doing, not dancing and singing for years and weeks on end. Better to warm a bed with your love each night than leave him alone and yearning or her distressed and worrying it was a small wonder Cregard had not taken a bride he'd not found anyone he could handle his direct approach.

Torrhen meanwhile was requesting wine and food as the pair sat in the feasting tent, Torrhen eyed the noble women he needed someone he could really cut loose with not some shriveling maiden scared of a rough and tumble northern lord. He fought like he loved rough, tumble, and smooth. He loved the chase and dance of two people trying to see how they might maneuver and tease one another it was a glorious thing to be part of here and now? This would be an event for the ages perhaps he'd finally meet his match definitely looked better than hairy wenches from bear island or the those boney Boltons up north. Though his father would never approve maybe he could finally try a Dornish girl wouldn't that be a treat?

The Fangs sat together of course, the twins were never to far apart they didn't like it they seemed to naturally work together one tall and strong and the other lean and fast in a fight they were not to be trifled with though they never came to blows with each other. They had both sworn never to end up like Edric had with his brothers.




Beylee squealed as jumped off the wagon running through the crowds enamored with the place, as Brandon and his kin rode up ahead of the wagons full of items from up north the most prized of all good pure ice perfect for the hot weather and carefully moved and now needing to be stored. Of course beer and furs from the north as well, many a fine folk would pay good money for the furs of the northern animals to see them through cold nights. The horn resounded as they announced the arrival of the heir of Winterfell, following that announcements for each of Lords or their boys who had come with him southward to see this great tourney and fight in it.

As Beylee darted back to her father's side and took his hand and Ashe slipped out of his saddle already heading towards the jousting grounds eager to see how many shitheads knights he'd have to remind that they weren't anything special. Gryffith rolled his eyes at his brothers departure and Mathias tried to stop Ashe, both followed Brandon as he headed further in off to pay respects to the hosts and thank them for the invitation. The wagons moved to deliver their goods and sell wares as the northerners had arrived in decent number a suprise to be sure but many followed Brandon Stark for he was good man and a honorable one too.


House Stark of Winterfell


Winter is Coming


House Description: The Stark's of Winterfell are a truly ancient house, once known as King's in the North after defeating the Red Kings of House Bolton and the Barrow Kings supposedly of House Dustin. Fiercely loyal and true to their words and justice no matter the reason, a slight against one Stark is a slight against them all. Beloved by the people of the North and well regarded even in the South for their honor, the Starks like many Northerners are aloof from courts and intrigue yet when called upon they answer with ferocity and cunning, as the did with the pact of Ice and Fire. However after the death of his foe by poison rather than letting those who had wronged his foe go free Cregan Stark showed the honor of House Stark, bringing to justice the lords who had poisoned the King. Of those condemned those Cregan dealt justice upon he only beheaded two the rest took the black or were spared for strength of their defense or their kinsman defense them.

Recent History: Since Cregan's Stark show of moral strength during the Dance, House Stark has gone through a turbulent times with the children of Lord Cregan having traded the throne often from one calamity to the next. The death of Rickon Stark during the final battles in Dorne began the problems for the Great House of Winterfell. With the death of Rickon, his daughter's would be passed over and the throne given to Jonnel Stark who then wed Sansa Stark his half-niece though it never bore issue nor would his second wife. Before Jonnel's death he would pass the seat to Barthogan Stark rather than the next in line Edric.

Edric despite the fact he had married Rickon's other daughter Serena Stark and had four children a perfect safety net for the succession, he was passed over. It is believed his passing over stems from his desire to rule Winterfell and to try and negotiate for what his father never received namely a Targaryen Princess for one of his sons or failing that a more favorable arrangement as Warden of North with the Targaryen family.

Barthogan Stark or Barth Blacksword as he more commonly known has been a good King and warrior, he never took a wife. Only having a single bastard son who was raised in the care of his younger brother Brandon, Mathias Snow. Barthogan also has laid out in advance that should he perish without an heir Brandon will inherit the throne not Edric or his line, also out of love for his son has made the small request that Mathias be allowed to carry the Stark name even if he may never be Lord of Winterfell.

Edric for his part is even more enraged by Brandon, the least trained or expected to rule the North will take the seat of Winterfell rather than himself, in his old age he has passed this bitterness down to his family.

Family Members:

Edric Stark: Edric the patient

  • Cregard Stark 'Bloodied Fang'
  • Torrhen Stark 'Silver Fang'
  • Aregelle Stark
  • Arana Stark


Warden of the North: Barthogan Stark, Barth Blacksword

  • Mathias Stark 'Runt'


Heir to Winterfell: Brandon Stark

  • Ashe Stark 'Knight Bane'
  • Gryffith Stark
  • Beylee Stark


Married off daughters of Cregan Stark

  • Sarra Stark
  • Alys Stark
  • Raya Stark
  • Mariah Stark
  • Lyanna Stark













House Stark of Winterfell


Winter is Coming


House Description: The Stark's of Winterfell are a truly ancient house, once known as King's in the North after defeating the Red Kings of House Bolton and the Barrow Kings supposedly of House Dustin. Fiercely loyal and true to their words and justice no matter the reason, a slight against one Stark is a slight against them all. Beloved by the people of the North and well regarded even in the South for their honor, the Starks like many Northerners are aloof from courts and intrigue yet when called upon they answer with ferocity and cunning, as the did with the pact of Ice and Fire. However after the death of his foe by poison rather than letting those who had wronged his foe go free Cregan Stark showed the honor of House Stark, bringing to justice the lords who had poisoned the King. Of those condemned those Cregan dealt justice upon he only beheaded two the rest took the black or were spared for strength of their defense or their kinsman defense them.

Recent History: Since Cregan's Stark show of moral strength during the Dance, House Stark has gone through a turbulent times with the children of Lord Cregan having traded the throne often from one calamity to the next. The death of Rickon Stark during the final battles in Dorne began the problems for the Great House of Winterfell. With the death of Rickon, his daughter's would be passed over and the throne given to Jonnel Stark who then wed Sansa Stark his half-niece though it never bore issue nor would his second wife. Before Jonnel's death he would pass the seat to Barthogan Stark rather than the next in line Edric.

Edric despite the fact he had married Rickon's other daughter Serena Stark and had four children a perfect safety net for the succession, he was passed over. It is believed his passing over stems from his desire to rule Winterfell and to try and negotiate for what his father never received namely a Targaryen Princess for one of his sons or failing that a more favorable arrangement as Warden of North with the Targaryen family.

Barthogan Stark or Barth Blacksword as he more commonly known has been a good King and warrior, he never took a wife. Only having a single bastard son who was raised in the care of his younger brother Brandon, Mathias Snow. Barthogan also has laid out in advance that should he perish without an heir Brandon will inherit the throne not Edric or his line, also out of love for his son has made the small request that Mathias be allowed to carry the Stark name even if he may never be Lord of Winterfell.

Edric for his part is even more enraged by Brandon, the least trained or expected to rule the North will take the seat of Winterfell rather than himself, in his old age he has passed this bitterness down to his family.

Family Members:

Edric Stark: Edric the patient

  • Cregard Stark 'Bloodied Fang'
  • Torrhen Stark 'Silver Fang'
  • Aregelle Stark
  • Arana Stark


Warden of the North: Barthogan Stark, Barth Blacksword

  • Mathias Stark 'Runt'


Heir to Winterfell: Brandon Stark

  • Ashe Stark 'Knight Bane'
  • Gryffith Stark
  • Beylee Stark


Married off daughters of Cregan Stark

  • Sarra Stark
  • Alys Stark
  • Raya Stark
  • Mariah Stark
  • Lyanna Stark










Let's go!
@Richard Horthy Other idea is Alderaanian spy, though for the Jedi idea he's able to pass off his knowledge as he's a Miraluka an outlawed naturally force sensitive race.
@Richard Horthy I mean my first thought is Jedi archivist and survivor of the fall. Currently in hiding as a doctor who was assisting Mandalorians for awhile.
Alright I'll toss my hat in. I have a couple ideas.

Collab with @Ruby





Duston had been greeted in the parking lot by a few Valentinos who recognized the ride, they usually hung around the bar. El Coyote Cojo was a dump to many, to Dusty it felt like the little town bar he stopped at traveling across the country. Of course it wasn't the same but he liked it, Pepe was behind the bar as usual when he came in.

However with a shout Mama Welles emerged from the back, hugging him as he brought two clay jugs of firmwares and a cooler in. "I brought you and Jackie that treat we talked about... Wish he could have shared it with us." He spoke quietly, hugging the woman back like some aunt hadn't seen in years. "You said you had an old recipe for them? Well I'd like to try it."

The Nomad let her take the cooler as the older woman smiled sadly at it. "Jackie's memorial... Is over in the corner if you wish to say goodbye." Dusty nodded quietly, he never knew what to say when people lost like this. He remembered how she had been when Jackie's brother had passed. So he patted her shoulder letting her move to open the cooler on the bar counter. As Pepe too the bottles of fire water he shook his head.

"You picked a bad time too..." A moment later trailing the arrival of the merc the figure of the woman he'd brought with him hung in the doorway. "Yeah, it seems like everything has trouble these days. Me included." Duston turned, looking at Sora the bar itself seemed to suit the cowboy Nomad as he hovered next to a mass muscle who looked as exhausted as he could be. Next to him the thin grief wracked frame of Mama Welles who had just looked at the pair she was just putting away Dusty's gifts to them.

"Sora, come on over, let's make some introductions." Duston spoke, flicking his lighter really wanting to smoke right now.

Sora stopped just inside the door. Her mind went into gear; the structure and set-up of the establishment was noted and projections began on where the most likely weapon was, where the best exit was should things go south, the sight lines of the second level down to the first level, every person was noticed and analyzed as to what walk of life they were from and what faction of Night City they likely belonged to, who could potentially be bought, who could potentially be bullied, and who would be more difficult to deal with.

By the time she heard Dusty's voice pierce the veil of her mental analysis, her eyes were already stuck in place: the ofrenda. It wasn't Sora's first time seeing one; she had been in Mexico for Día de Muertos before. Dusty's call towards her had led other eyes to her; most notably, Mama Welles. Sora's gaze snapped away from the family altar to the proprietress of the El Coyote. Something was said to her under the breath of the old woman, something that Sora thought she heard, but wasn't entirely sure...

When she was at the bar, she said, flatly, "Hello."

"Soda?" Pepe asked, drawing Sora's eyes from Mama Welles.

"...what? No, thank you."

Pepe scratched the back of his neck, a touch of nervous energy, "Oh, no, I meant...your name? Soda?"

Sora's flat stare moved to Dusty, "I have to retrieve something from your car. I'll be right ba--"

"--haha, she's funny," Dusty touched her. TOUCHED her, taking her by the shoulder and keeping her right there for the moment.

Sora didn't feel funny, but the little look she gave the Merc in the moment didn't exactly disagree with the idea that she was joking. Mostly, anyway. "Sora," she corrected Pepe, her head following her eyes as she turned to Mama Welles once more. "What is it you said?" It was potentially rude, and possibly an assumption, but Sora's hearing was that good, and she was all but certain in what she had heard the woman mutter under her breath.

True to everything she had heard about the woman, Mama Welles didn't budge an inch in her stare down of the Japanese woman. She didn't look surprised to be called out, she didn't even bother hesitating or trying to lie, her tone was blunt and her head held high, unafraid, "Santa Muerte. I looked at you, and I saw Death walk into my bar, so I called you Santa Muerte...Saint Death."

"Pepe, why don't you get us a couple of whiskeys neat?" Dusty spoke, trying to help the guy avoid dying his wife would break down if she lost him. Deciding to try and defuse tension a little he spoke up.

"Mama Welles, this is Sora, my boss. She's contracted me as her driver... She wanted to see the place and I figured you wouldn't mind the business." He smiled trying to be sweet and show he cared as he looked between the two women. Really helping Sora didn't head for his car again. He wasn't sure the reinforced doors could stop her for long.

"Oh? And who do you work for, Sora?"

The hard-edge and tension of Mama Welles eyes and voiced never changed, but Sora accepted the whiskey when presented to her and made sure to adjust her internal settings so the alcohol could take some purchase of her body; adjust her internal system settings to allow the drink to slightly poison her, as alcohol was supposed to. "I'm..." It wasn't the easiest thing to explain, her position within the company, "I'm the operative in charge of security evaluation for the Night City situation for Arasaka Corp."

Welles' eyes widened, even if just a touch, at the ready admission of the woman, "Arasaka? Your people killed my boy."

"It was a drone that shot him, although technically the fall killed him, according to the initial forensic investigation of the scene," casually said, as Sora took a sip of the drink, "if he hadn't we would have hunted him down just the same. I would have, matter of fact."

Welles seemed halfway between angered by it, and amused by it, "And V?"

"V we believe is off-world, others are after them."

"You won't catch V," spoken with absolute, unwavering, belief.

The kind that just made Sora grin, and raise her glass in the air a foot, "To V and Jackie Welles, then."

“To Jackie, best friend I ever made in Night City... Even if he found more trouble than a fat cow in a Coyote pen.” The Nomad adde raising a toast to Jackie. “Mama Welles, I didn’t come here to start trouble but how about a couple of those steaks... A bit of fire water too, I’ll regale Sora here with some tales about Welles.” He offered to try to distract from their problems at the moment and get the topic somewhere else. He was nervous someone would take offense if he didn’t get things moving in the right direction.

Gesturing towards an empty booth he sighed. “How about a little heart to heart Sora since we’ve both clearly got some knowledge about something else the other is interested in.”

The Arasaka ninja chuckled. "I just like you assume I still have a heart. Lead the way."

“Even if they put in a chrome one you still feel. So I know it’s there even if you hide it.” He spoke leading her into the booth and taking a seat as Pepe dropped off a bottle of the fire water he’d brought in. Powerful moonshine the Nomads could use to run vehicles, generators, or get wasted also damn good stuff.

“So let’s start with me. I’m a part time merc, I’m only here a few months out of the year, mostly till harvest. I leave my problems outside at the border and pick up the ones I left here when I come in. But how is it you just happened to be going after all the little circles of the mid tier mercs like myself are in on?” He reached into his jacket for a smoke as he offered the pack to her as well.

“You’re pissed but clearly you don’t catch much for Saka. You are here for something personal in the Merc world, now normally I’d be against turning on other mercs for a corpo but... I know revenge when I see it, and I chase that path myself from time to time. So, here’s what I’ll offer. My intel and connections into the Merc world and helping you dig around for whoever it is you're looking for. Cause it’s not anymore connected to V that has you pissed, you got a name that needs crossing.”

Saint Death returned to Sora's face as Dusty spoke. He had trespassed on ground equal parts cursed and sacred. Gone was the chuckle, gone was any light or life in her features. The obsession was back, the focus that kept her awake every night, the memories and the thoughts that were hoarded and cherished every hour of every day, without fail. Sora leaned back in the worn cushion of the El Coyote booth seat, her long black hair unmoving as she was all but perfectly still, staring into the Merc's eyes. "Have you ever been in love?"

“Yes. I won’t go into details but she’s gone now and my brother was at fault.” He spoke, hardening his face, flicking open a lighting up his cigarette as he leaned back into the cushion. He drew a deep breath taking in the smoke as he exhaled hard as he shut his eyes a moment. “Like I said. I understand revenge.” He spoke, pouring them both a round of fire water.

"You misunderstand." Sora's eyes flicked to the bar, above to the second level, there, back again to the Merc. "I've loved two people. Two people have loved me. My mother, and a woman named Etta Autry. My mother was crushed under the dishonor and cowardice of my father, until I could help her be free. Etta Autry..." Sora trailed to silence. How to explain? Was there a way to truly convey it all? "I was working in Europe. She had managed to arrange a clerk, assistant job for a member of Arasaka Counter-Intel in the same office I was based in. She wasn't there for me. She wasn't spying on me. She was there to gather information for a job, a long term con, and the only way to get the kind of background, detailed, information for their heist. European Mercs...are a higher class of Merc than you and yours, Dusty. They're truly professional, part corpo in their own right. Most are former military or corporate. I believe she was both. One night I have a particularly nasty armed conflict with a group of mercs. Talented group, to leave me that bloody. She heard me come into the office. She noticed the blood. She patched me, she spent the night watching over me. It was...the start of something beautiful, the only time I've ever experienced that kind of thing."

Her voice wavered in the pain of the memory. The sigh was deep, her near black eyes trailing the surface of the table, her vision going past the table, into the past. "When I found out, I found out because I caught up to her merc group. I chased them across Europe. It had nothing to do with her, it had nothing to do with the fact she was married to one of the other mercs in that group. They were hitting Arasaka, I wanted to catch them. It's what I am, it's what I do. They were good...they were the best I've ever seen." Her eyes came up to his, her head giving the barest of nods to reaffirm just how much she meant that. "On the moon I caught up to them, during their big heist. I killed three of them that day. It took a heavy toll, I was near death when I collapsed. I don't remember...all of it. Chasing them allowed them to set a trap for me. I didn't see it coming. When I woke up...she was kneeling beside me, once again, caring for me. She said she loved me, she said she was sorry. She gave me a hypo so I didn't die...later that day I caught up to them again."

Sora's eyes hadn't moved from his eyes, but somehow, now, they weren't on him...they just stared through him, a thousand yard stare into the infinity of past and pain. "They escaped using a stolen craft. I followed. I hit them before reentry. Her husband died. By the time I woke up I was floating in the ocean, lucky Arasaka found me. She was gone. What they stole went with her. We recovered her husband's body."

Her gaze fell to the fire water, her hand reaching out, a thirst upon her as she winced at the burn of the shot she downed. "I will find her. I will tear this city apart to find her. I will do Arasaka's business, but nothing will get in my way this time. I will catch her. She's a ghost, usually, hidden behind rival corporate firewalls and governments that I believe just erased her records. But I know she's here. I know I will find her. If you hear anything, if you see anything...yes, Dusty, tell me. I will ensure you never have to work another merc job for the rest of your life if you don't want to."

”Money’s nice and all... But Sora, what I’d what? A promise that no goon will come knocking on my door to shoot me cause I helped you. Maybe some cash or favors for the family... But shit... I mean it’s heavy I...” He knocked back his drink pausing before putting a hand on her shoulder leaning forward. “I can kinda get where you’re coming from.”

“I’ve got a big family... Half are adopted but it doesn't make a difference we all grew up together. Seven of us. Two boys, five girls, my pop, and my ma. My brother... He’s younger and always wanted to get famous... We're related to Malachi, the man who set up our Nation. He's my grandpapi, of course we ain’t the only ones. But my brother... Jorge was always set on running the clan, then the whole nation one day. Course to do that he needed to get famous...” He took another long drag watching the smoke curl past his hat for a bit then sighed.

“We were working with the Meta’s. I fancied a girl from Meta Corp, sky jockey herself who had wanted to learn how a real racer handled the roads. We were young and having a blast tearing up dirt and tumbles in hay where no one would catch us.” He sighed, pressing the cigarette out on the ashtray before looking into her eyes. “Last time I saw her we were talking about requesting permission from both our families to marry and discuss where we’d move too. A little while later I’m doing a scouting run, when I hear her AV under fire... Her cursing and yelling for help.” He spoke, shutting his eyes as took off his hat to run a hand through his auburn hair.

“My car was miles back and I was just on a bike... I turned on the distress beacon and I tore ass towards her signal. It was the biggest horde of Shiv I ever saw with stolen Militech gear, this fat AV loaded with food, medicine, tech, and more from heading over to the Metacorp as part of a trade deal. It slams into the ground with the most cursed thud I’ve ever heard... So I do the most damn fool thing I can think of, put the bike in gear and charge down.” He spoke staring back into Sora’s eyes.

“I made it to the AV’s only to find the cockpit on fire. I managed to break the glass, thinking I’d saved her... She’d been dead from smoke inhalation for minutes before.” He shook his head. “So I took cover, her body next to me and I kept shooting and shooting, eventually all the others turned up and the Shiv ran not worth dying for steak.” He added pouring a shot then knocking it back.

“After all that, my family is saying they are so impressed. There is talk about how brave I was or how I really take after Malachi.” He looked at that bottle. “My brother must have felt something real dark... Cause that night as I was out in the barn unable to sleep looking at a couple of old photos and drinking. He comes in, Mom’s pistol in his right hand pointing it at me.” He took a deep breath before finishing.

“He tells me that was his moment, that he had orchestrated the damn thing. That the Shiv were bribed into hitting that AV with salvage sites he’d found we could have used. That AV had to go down because half the food was missing since he’d given it to them in exchange for helping him stage a big fight he could be the hero of, win his fame and get the title he deserves. I ruined his life, I wasn’t fit to be his brother... A lot of things were said... But when he uttered her name and told how he made sure she’d die so I’d hurt. I lost it.” He turned his head looking around the bar a moment finishing the tale.

“I threw my bottle in his face and yanked my iron and put one in his leg... Dragged him out... And told them all what he did... I wanted to hang’em. I wanted to blow his limbs off.” He spoke slowly, thinking back on that anger. “Then... I saw my mother crying... I couldn't because he was still her baby I... I said we should exile him. He’s Shiv now... It’s why I hate Shiv, because they are all like him or worse. But I stopped. I don't chase him, I don’t let it consume me... Shouldn’t love me like she did if I became that man so I stay better for her love.”

Her eyes never flinched during the tale, and in the end, her voice remained it’s usual detached voice of death self: “Should have killed him. I would have killed him.” Then again, she wanted to say, I let my father beat me for years. “No one’s coming after your people because you help me; even if I find her, even if I kill her, she has no one left to avenge her. She’s completely alone in the world, now…like me.”

“If you are that alone... If you did love her... Try and find a way to forgive... Because you might be happier finding and being with her than alone.” He spoke as he paused for a moment. “If you can’t and you just wanna go... I can get you set up with the Technomancers if you just wanna leave Saka and everything behind. They can get your chrome and software cleaned up if you wanna vanish when it’s over.” He added looking out at the upper level of the bar a moment, Mama Welles bringing out two of the steaks seasoned and finished just right.

“Whatever happens Sora, you broke bread with me. You listened to me. You trusted me. Nomads pay back kindness with kindness, always us Jodes? Well we have also fancied ourselves the first Nomads, I can’t set a bad example.” He chuckled as started to cut into his steak.

Sora regarded his ideas with dead eyes. “Eat, Nomad,” never once pondering the prospect of forgiveness, or escape, in that moment, “we have a busy evening ahead of us.”

"Sic semper tyrannis"


Name: Abraham, Gaius, Praetor, and many more.

Age: Over two thousand

Species: Kindred

Powers: Fortitude, Potence, Celerity, Auspex, Necromancy

Clan: Caitiff

Generation: 7th

Appearance: He carries himself upright and with a quick step, remnants of his days on the march for glory and conquest. His list of names and titles is long, so the short and sweet name of Abraham was taken after an old friend. His clothes clean and freshly pressed, he carries himself well but their a sadness in him and tiredness. He looks remarkably alive for a Kindred, though he carries an aura of man who carries the weight of the world. His body is fit and lean, a surprising amount of scaring dots his chest and his chin is a familiar scar of chin strap from a Legion helmet. With raven black hair and short beard, he looks the part of a young soldier and even has the manners and discipline to prove it.



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