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The Escape

It was empty. A void of nothingness, cold and uninviting; similar to the vacuum of space but different at the same time. Space was vast, most of it made up of a vacant expanse but at least you could see things out in the distance; knew that life was dotted throughout the galaxy. Here there was nothing. No hope to cling to. Just the distant feeling that something terrible lurked out of view.

An explosion in the distance reverberated throughout the shipping container, knocking Kysar out of his trance. In front of him lay the cracked orb, patterns of colours churning away mesmerisingly. Feeling a drop of blue blood trickle its way down from the Turian’s nose, he glanced around at the others. Solveig and Yarik seemed as if they were coming out of a dream too, with the colour from their faces appearing to be drained. Shaking the eerie feeling loose, Kysar gripped the base of his rifle even harder, bringing it down onto the orb once more.

Success! The ball exploded, crackling as its innards oozed out in an odd electrical goo. The Turian turned to the others, smirking, ready to receive his medal.

“Time to pay up Drell. 5000 big ones for…”

Yarik hurried past Kysar, keen to inspect what was left of the assumed Reaper tech. The Turian turned to his human compatriot, offering a shrug and a shake of the head.

“Out!” Yelled the Drell, as the alien pelted past Kysar, following it up with the call for a barrier. Diving out of the container with nary a second thought, a hue of cobalt blue enveloped the former Cabal as a wave of energy washed over the team. Panting on the soft sand outside the container, Kysar’s head quickly darted from side to side. The inside of the ship appeared to be intact, the wind quietly whistling through the many holes of the hull. A swipe of his arm revealed his omni-tool was still functional, so maybe everything was…

The panicked shuffle of the Drell cut Kysar’s concentration, drawing his attention to Solveig. The Human was looking worse for wear, barely conscious and not even able to stand. The Turian stood, brushing himself down and blowing out sand caught in the crevasses of his armour. Once overing his gear, he decided that despite the condition of his teammate, the mission had been a success. The woman was tough, she’d survive and the lack of gunfire had meant whatever enthrallment the Drells were under was over one way or another.

“Could’ve wrapped a bow on this bad boy, this thing went so... ” A deafening buzz echoed throughout the ship as a giant insect-like creature rose above the containers. The Turian could not win today. Maybe he’d just have to wait until the money in his hand before taking a moment to celebrate.

Yarik scooped up the two as they exited the ship and bound across the minefield as quickly as they could. Behind them, the Collector Captain hovered in the air, threatening to close the gap with ease. Linking up with Kaya, the group ran in the direction of the shuttle, only for the creature to appear biotically in front of them. Almost tauntingly so, the Collector unleashed a particle beam that ripped right through the shuttle like a hot knife through butter. Kysar fired off a few rounds but they just shimmered off the things’ shield. Turning, the beam glassed the sand as it tore towards the group, just missing Yarik. The order to fall back was music to the Turians ears as he turned tail and ran.

As they ran, the drone of seeker swarms filled the air, followed by the scream of an unlucky Drell caught in their midst. Diving behind a chest-high sand dune, Kysar threw up another barrier, focusing for dear life as the wasp-like creatures gnawed away. Beads of sweat dripped from all manner of places as the creatures dissipated in a mere moment. Any more action like that and his biotics would run dry altogether.

Booms akin to thunder rolled out from the battlefield as Kysar popped his head above the dune. The Krogan was firing off his giant shotgun at the Collector, walking towards the thing while he cackled.

“Ha! Krogans! Here for a good time, not here for a long time.” He thought before eying up their surroundings. “Hmm,” his vocal cords echoed, “no vantage points near me but that scaffolding…” He paused, looking down at his grenades, then back towards the rickety framework looming over behind the Collector.. “Yeah that might just do the trick.”

Ducking back down behind the dune, the Turian unhooked a grenade from his belt, saturating it with his biotics. If that crazy Krogan could take down its shields, this might finish the thing off. If not, it might just save that idiot's life. Re-emerging once more, Kysar threw it with all his might towards the scaffolding.

“Spirits this better work.”
I'm interested
I'll start working on my sheet. I want to stick with the Pitt and the surrounding area

Edit: Is there a discord?
@Auz I have kind of a dumb question: Didn't the Legion originally come from the East? Maybe more Central, but wasn't the point of Ulysses and the Courier that they were mailmen from the West and East? You could have it that the Legion went back East to reconnct/regroup with territories it was more familiar with.

They came from Arizona I believe. They're just called the East in NV because they're to the East of Hoover Dam. Depending on where you stand lore wise, the Midwestern BOS was/is supposedly occupying most of the territory in the centre of America.

Would love to bring the Legion east, maybe remnants but I think it might be a bit of a stretch.
<Snipped quote by Auz>

As with the previous two iterations of WNC the aim is to give players the freedom to create their own factions based on the lore. Though I prefer the West coast, the East coast is only plain in lore if you as a writer let it be

Yeah of course, I more meant major event wise since the bombs dropped. Think it was just the writing of Fallout 3 that made it seem like there was just piles of rocks when the Brotherhood wandered out there.

That said, I'm cool with the East Coast and I'm sure everyone will come up with solid ideas.
My plan for the Legion was to have it in the (slow) process of breaking apart/destablising, thereby limiting the ability to just crush smaller nations.

Also was thinking about having Ulysses come back to run a faction within the faction, vying for power against Lanius (based off the assumption that it was either a House or Courier/Yesman ending in F:NV). That way he could look to stabilise the faction and save whatever they could of the crumbling empire.

If we go East Coast, I'm not sure what I'll do. My problem with that region is that it's pretty plain lore wise, maybe at least in my opinion.

Perhaps I'll go a faction that controls the Pitt, Ashur would be neato.

Edit: Totes cool with the timing of the OOC and such.
I'm interested and I'd prefer the West Coast. I'd also be down to play Caesar's Legion.


Windhoek was a stark change from the drizzly grey of London. White and puffy clouds dotted a calming light blue sky. The sun shone down from the heavens mildly, setting the temperature at a warm, yet comfortable degree. Sand covered the land like an ocean, washing over the city that had once stood so tall and proud. Despite the obvious devastation, it was somewhat tranquil out there in the middle of nowhere. Which is why it came as a surprise to Kysar that most of the humans still complained.

London had been reduced to rubble and yet, the humans talked about the weather. They complained about the rain, the cold, the wind; everything. Finally, here they were in the climate they longed for but now it was too hot, too sandy, too calm. The Turian couldn’t help but wonder how this civilisation had achieved space flight, let alone led the fight against the greatest enemy the galaxy had ever known. What would they say to the sun on Palaven? It would literally strip the skin from their soft little bodies. Or what if they encountered the horrors that lurked beneath the sands of Tuchanka? Would they still say it’s too hot out?

Sand- whipped up from the Kodiak’s thrusters- lashed Kysar across the face, bringing him out of his daze. Their client had appeared along with another human, taking a long winded approach in explaining what their mission was. The Turians mandibles twitched as his eyes rolled. Invectus had commanded him to stay “one step behind '' Katya and Solveig at all times, feeding back any information regarding their connections to the Alliance. Perhaps espionage wasn’t the General's strong suit as Kysar knew he wouldn’t get far if he was there every time the pair turned around. He had read enough of their files to know they’d easily pick up on such a thing. Besides, Kysar was free, out in the open and away from the stuffy corridors of the Hierarchy’s headquarters. The mission wouldn’t suffer if the Turian stretched his legs. Invectus could shove it.

“Spirits, she’s a big one.” Kysar thought, spotting a heavy set Asari as he brought his rucksack over his shoulder. Maneuvering around her and away from the landing zone, he carried on. “With a physique like that, Hotel Azure won’t be offering her a contract anytime soon.” Hefting a large box of supplies, the Asari pivoted around on her heels, swinging the crate as if it were nothing. “On second thought, maybe she’d get one as a baggage handler.”

Continuing on round the building, Kysar came across the peculiar sight of an oversized Krogan attempting to fit into a closet. “What in the fuck.” He mused, laughing loud enough for the giant turtle to hear. “Is there something in the water here?” Giggling some more to himself he pressed on as a wave of heat began to weigh down upon him. Reappearing from behind a cloud, the sun beat down on his armour, grinding the metal as it expanded ever so slightly. Maybe it was hotter than he initially thought. A sense of weariness fell over the Turian, his head dipping to the side as he slowly began to nod. The Krogan had the right idea, any rest time he could get before the mission started would make for one happy fighter.

Heading inside the pub, the place had been remade into a makeshift ward. Patients were strewn all over the shop, laid down in cots. Nurses, doctors and medics rushed around as former combatants cried out in pain. Kysar paid them no mind, weaving his way through, looking for an open spot to lie down. Everyone was busy, too busy to help a woman as she screamed for help from a medic. Her partner was in a bad way, bleeding profusely from a reopened wound. Avoiding eye contact, the Turian shimmied past the couple, making his way to a vantage point over in the corner as his omni tool pinged.

Dumping his rucksack on the floor, he brought up his arm. The bright orange flashed to life with the name Sarah appearing across the hologram. Grimacing, his brow furrowed. Why did she insist on keeping in contact? Surely there were more pressing matters, no? Kysar’s finger hovered over the acceptance button, his jaw grinding back and forth. Plus he was busy himself on a mission, about to risk his life. That meant something, right? Screaming continued in the background, as the Turian umm’ed and ahh’ed. Finally, with a shake of the head and an annoyed growl, he accepted the communication.

“Hi… um… Kysar.” Her voice was soft, barely audible over the madhouse in front of the Turian. Sarah’s chest barreled as she took a deep breath in. Her mouth opened but only a croak escaped. With a large exhale, her shoulders dropped and she smiled weakly, brushing back a strand of hair that had come loose from her ponytail. The bags under her eyes stood out, even in the vid.


“Mum? Is that Kysar?” A little voice from somewhere off camera questioned, followed by another. “Aw yeah mum I wanna say hi too! Please!”

The Turian watched as a facade dropped over the woman's face, smiling from ear to ear as she turned. “Of course you can, my darlings, come here.” The kids scrambled on screen. Keiran, with his curly chestnut hair, reached out for the camera. Kysar let out a small snort as Sarah told the boy off. “Sorry,” she offered, “I should say that we hope you’re ok and safe.” Squeezing the two as they sat in her lap, the kids gave their cheesiest grin.

“And we hope you come back soon!” Added little Michelle, the freckles on her nose scrunching together as she giggled. Sarah looked away, her mask dropping for just a moment. “Yeah… well… just be safe.”

Kysar felt his mandibles twitch as the vid ended, threatening to release a smile. Somewhere deep inside he could feel it, a yearning from a seed that his mother had placed all those years ago. There was such a long road ahead of them. Hell, they were calling from some shoddy tent inside of a cramped refugee camp just outside of London. There were a million and one other things they should’ve been doing but instead there they were, calling him, wishing he was doing well. Kysar felt his head drift to the side as his eyes glazed over. He could send her a message, telling her he’d be back. His assignment to find and end the smuggling ring was in Europe, maybe if he got through this mission he could…

Shrieking from across the way cut the Turians' thought short. The medic had arrived too late and the womans’ partner was already gone. Kysar watched as she wailed, softly hitting the medic who just stood his ground, before she fell into a heap next to the dead man on the cot. “No, it’s better this way.” He reasoned, flicking his omni tool closed. “She’s better off this way.”

Kysar picked his rucksack up off the floor, making his way over to what was now a few humans taking the body away. The group shuffled past leaving a nurse to clean up the bloody rags left behind. Popping his bag down next to the cot, the woman looked up, offering a sympathetic smile.

“I’m sorry sir, if you want, you can follow your friend. They’ll be giving him a proper burial outside.”

The Turians head jerked back, confusion covering his face. “Huh?” He chuckled. “Oh no, I’m here for the bed.”

The warm smile of the woman switched instantaneously as her eyebrow cocked. “I’m sorry? What do you mean?”

Kysar sat down on the edge of the bed, groaning out a satisfied ‘ahh’. Fluffing up the pillow, he continued. “Well he’s not going to need it anymore is he? Beds being for the living and all that.” The woman shook her head furiously. Her features crunched in disgust as she charged away. Kysar let out a small sinister chuckle before laying down. At least he entertained himself.
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