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3 yrs ago
If you want to play both Fallout 3 and New Vegas, I'd recommend trying out A Tale of Two Wastelands.
3 likes
3 yrs ago
You're a rock star
3 yrs ago
Unless the problem is in the air.
1 like
3 yrs ago
If they at least have the decency to say that they're leaving instead of simply ghosting the RP, that's good enough to me.
7 likes

Bio

I originally got into forum roleplaying on the official Bethesda Game Studios Forums in 2007 or 2008. When the forums were replaced with Bethesda.net, I was one of several close-knit Fallout RPers who came here.

Most Recent Posts

Novak

So that's what she meant by peak human, Novak marveled as he watched the outcome of his improvised attack. The chair struck with more force than he had anticipated, shattering upon impact and knocking the bird into a wall. The strange creature was still alive but it appeared to be concussed from the blow. The same could not be said for the other bird, which was lying in a pool of its own blood, slain by the black-haired girl. A moment later, the second bird was also dead by her hand, cleanly decapitated by her katana.

She might be a good candidate to learn from if I need to know how to fight, Novak observed. He didn't want to spend his power unless it taught him something very useful, and it was already clear that in this world, knowing one's way around a sword would be invaluable. He could worry about it later, however, when he had spare time to gauge whether there were better options and figure out just how his powers functioned.

"... A shame there isn't a cooking fire, at least these wretched fowl could have served a purpose in death," commented the swordswoman. It was at this point that Novak realized that his hearing had returned, to his great relief. It'd have been a great inconvenience for this fine new body to be afflicted with sensory loss so soon after receiving it. Unfortunately, just as things were starting to look up for the group, the floor began to rumble ominously. Novak didn't know what it was, but it was a potent reminder that there were there worse fates than hearing loss...

Is that the guardian that the goddess warned us about? We need to get out of here.

The black-haired woman was already helping her animal-eared companion, who seemed to have gotten the worst of the bird's screech. Perhaps her strange ears were more sensitive to that awful shriek. It occurred to Novak at this point that he didn't know anything about them, not even their names. If the situation weren't so dire, he'd ask them right now, but it seemed like they'd need to focus on simply surviving.

With this in mind, Novak rushed to the exit, stopping at the doorway. Not wanting to risk figuratively jumping out of a frying pan and into a fire, he cautiously peered outside. He looked around for any sign of danger that might await them outside, such as more of those birds or any other strange creatures, and perhaps whatever was making the ground shake.

@VitaVitaAR@Rune_Alchemist@PKMNB0Y
Double post. Please ignore.
It reminds me of the Nightmare Executioner from Bloodborne.
Fleuri Jodeau


The knights' blows struck true, cleaving off the vampire's arm and leg as he leapt back. Any satisfaction at this successful attack, however, quickly disappeared when Fleuri saw how quickly Damon recovered. Blood emerged from his stumps and linked with the severed limbs, pulling them to Damon and snapping them back into place as if he had never been hit. Fleuri knew that vampires could regenerate, but he had never realized how rapidly they could do so. He had hoped that they would be able to disrupt the regeneration, but it happened so rapidly there had been no opportunity to do so.

To make matters worse, Damon seemed completely unfazed by this ordeal, showing neither pain nor irritation at the momentary setback that dismemberment presented to him. To the contrary, he almost seemed like he was enjoying this.

By Reon, he's toying with us, Fleuri concluded as Damon readied his crossbow. Fleuri reflexively raised his sword in front of his face to try and deflect the blow. Damon had probably missed his first shot on purpose, but now that he had his chance to show off his vampiric abilities, this shot would likely struck much more true.

"Tagliare," spoke Nicomede, channeling a stream of water formed from the vampire's blood upon his sword to strike the crossbow, thwarting Damon's attempts to shoot Fleuri. Nicomede pressed the attack, swinging his sword at Damon aggressively.

"Sirs Fleuri, Jarde! Sever its limbs!" shouted Nicomede at his two companions.

He was right, they needed to press the attack. Severing the limbs might not be enough, however. A vampire's control over his own blood was not something that'd be easily nullified, although Nicomede's water magic should be able to at least slow down the regeneration. They would also need to ensure he couldn't just leap to a safe distance long enough to pull himself together without fear of being interrupted. Fortunately, they had someone who had just the equipment and skills to do so.

"Jarde, can you restrain him?" Fleuri asked, remembering the long chain weapons that the young knight carried. "We have to keep him from moving around." Fleuri unfastened his cloak and approached Damon with his sword in one hand and the cloak in the other, drawing close enough to intercede if the vampire counterattacked Nicomede, but keeping just enough distance that Jarde should have a clear shot.

Between the three of them, they might just have the skills needed to put this fiend down.

@Krayzikk@PaulHaynek
@PaulHaynek

Does Jarde have his full Kusarigamas or just the sickles ?
Novak

The others had almost no time to explain before a strange looking bird flew into the room. It had an almost metallic-looking beak and, as Novak watched it, some sort of inflatable growth on its throat. Before he could make any further observations, the bird let loose a horrific screech. Novak reflexively covered his ears, trying to lessen the awful noise. It haven't been two minutes since he had awakened and they were already in danger.

Just as the bird's vocal assault ended, Novak was temporarily deafened (at least he hoped it was temporary). Any hope of even a momentary reprieve was dashed when another bird flew into the room, this one heading straight for one of the others. Deafened, confused, and without any sort of weapon, Novak's first impulse was to dive behind the table and take cover. With his ears still ringing from the screech, he couldn't hear anything going on, but it had to be better than standing out in the open.

No way out except the way they came in, he assessed, his heart pounding and his ears ringing, any residual grogginess having been replaced by the rush of adrenaline. Can't flee from them. Can't protect from that screech. We're cornered. It's them or us, he concluded, his fight-or-flight response settling on what seemed to be their only choice. With one hand he grabbed an old sword lying next to him, and with the other he grabbed a chair by the leg. He was surprised at how light the chair felt as he lifted it- it seemed the goddess was serious about their new bodies being peak at peak human ability. He didn't know anything about using the sword, so for the time being he would have to settle for inelegantly swinging and hope that it'd suffice.

It's now or never, Novak assured himself as he emerged from his hiding spot and hurled the chair at the first bird with all his might.

@Rune_Alchemist@PKMNB0Y@VitaVitaAR
Novak

His thoughts slowly returned as he regained consciousness, the first thing on his mind being the seeming dream he had just awakened from, even ignoring the pain of his fall. The words of the self-styled goddess, or what his mind could recall of them, played in his still-groggy mind. Being saved from oblivion, being pulled into a new world. He did not open his eyes, not yet- he wanted to try and recall everything she had said, lest his memory of the dream dissipate before he could commit it to memory.

She had said that she had pulled him from oblivion, brought him back to a new world. A dead world, one of people fighting for resources and cowering in fear of monsters, and the goddess had wanted him to fix it, and rebuild it. But why would she choose him, he pondered, straining to figure an answer. He could not remember why. In fact, he could not remember anything of who he once was. Everything from before that seemed to be blank. Fortunately, he was able to remember why not...

"My, how curious. Once I thought memories were a persons greatest treasure. After all, even if nothing else one could content to remember good things, and yet you wanted to forget. You humans continue to baffle me, but that's why I like you. Now, weave me a tale then, one who would forget everything in order to move forward."

According to her words, it was he who wanted to forget his old life. He could not recall why he had harbored such a desire, however; it seems that detail had also been forgotten. All he could remember of himself was a name.

Novak. My name is Novak He was not entirely sure if it was the last vestige of his previous life, or if the goddess had planted it into his mind to give him a new identity. Perhaps it wasn't important where it came from, what mattered was that it was his name now.

"Nothing can be accomplished by simply remaining here," he heard someone in the room speak. "As such, we should collect this man and make our exit in order to more properly get out bearings."

This voice was not that of the goddess, but it reminded Novak of the goddess' final and most urgent words to him before awakening:

Hmph...less time than I would like. I will be putting you in a relatively safe place with others. You can find weapons, knowledge, and other things there that could help you - but do not linger. The guardian of that place will find you, and it will kill you, and I will not help once you are there."

This warning was enough to compel Novak to open his eyes and turn his attention to his current situation, draped over broken furniture after having lost his footing. His mishap had been a bit painful, but nothing serious. Still groggy, he struggled to pull himself to his feet. The goddess had said that she had made him a new body, didn't she? He could not muster any recall of his old body, but this one seemed to feel "right". His benefactor even had the courtesy to provide him with a set of clothes.

The man looked around at where he was. It was a room with walls and floors of stone, with a broken staircase heading to upper levels. The room was filled with broken furniture and scattered weapons, suggesting that perhaps there had been a battle or skirmish here. Lastly, there were several cylinders in the room, some open, some closed. It seemed that one such cylinder had held him until a few moments ago.

Sharing this space with him were two women. One was quite small in stature, with red eyes and black hair.

She looks human, but her appearance seems...off somehow.

The second woman was even stranger-looking, however, with long white hair and what appeared to be white-furred animal ears atop her head. Novak found himself reflexively double-checking his own body, curious if he had any sort of unusual features too. To his relief, he seemed entirely human.

"What's going on?" he asked the women, now fully awake. "Who are you two? Did that goddess bring you here?"

@VitaVitaAR @PKMNB0Y
Fleuri Jodeau


Fleuri's reaction to the hooded man catching the sword in his teeth was initially bewilderment at the audacity of such a move. It quickly gave way to a wave of terror, however, as he saw the man's red eyes and bared fangs.

By Reon, this is no ordinary rogue. This man is a vampire, Fleuri thought as he stepped back, assuming a defensive posture as his foe let go of the sword. It was fortunate that the crown knights' helmet hid the look of fear on Fleuri's face, although an astute observer would note the discomfort in his movements.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I... am Damon Cal," the vampire spoke. In the span of a few seconds this vampire had gone from an arrogant noble to a vicious, sword-biting predator, then regained his civilized veneer as quickly as he had discarded it.

I don't recognize that name, but it seems that Phoran was not the only member of the Cal family to head down the path of damnation. If Fleuri wasn't still shaken from the surprise revelation that he was fighting a vampire, he might have retorted with some stinging banter. Calm yourself, Fleuri. If they see you're afraid, they'll be afraid too, he silently told himself, recalling an old adage: courage is the art of being the only one who knows you're scared to death.

"Uhh, we have a vampire here. Uhh, what do we do?" asked Jarde. The reaction and worry of his fellow knight made further strengthened Fleuri's resolve to steel his nerves.

"I'll tell you what we do, Jarde," Fleuri said, doing his best to compose himself, although his voice was still a little shaky. "We reconcile him with the death that he has fled from. We spill his unjustly taken blood as Reon demands! And we bring him to justice for his treasonous conspiracy!" By the end of Fleuri's command, the fear in his voice was gone, replaced by the zeal of a devout Reonite. He was still afraid, of course, but it no longer showed as much as before.

"Follow my lead, and don't allow him any breathing room!" Fleuri commanded. Perhaps it was out of line, and perhaps it was a poor choice of words, but now wasn't the time for those concerns. He rushed forward at Damon, raising his claymore and swinging it down diagonally with all his might. Fleuri had some knowledge of vampires, and he knew that while stab wounds and shallow cuts were of little threat to them, they would not ignore a potentially dismembering blow. It would be up to Jarde and Nicomede to capitalize on it, however, but he trusted in the skills and resolve of his brothers-in-arms.

@PaulHaynek@Krayzikk
High Elder Renald - Vault 0 War Room


High Elder Renald stood before a large table in the center of the room, garbed in the robe of an elder. A Pip-Boy 2000 laid in front of him, displaying a wall of text on its screen. Next to the Pip-Boy were various maps and reports, some cleanly typed upon pre-war paper, others crudely handwritten on the backs of pages stained by 200 years of exposure to the elements. This was the beating heart of the Brotherhood of Steel, from which they coordinated their forces across their territory. Even without the Calculator, Vault 0 was a stronghold without compare across the territory of the Midwestern Brotherhood of Steel.

The distinct noise of a high tech door opening echoed throughout the room as Renald's guest arrived. A man fully enclosed in a red hazmat suit bearing the rank markings of a Head Scribe stepped through the threshold.

"Head Scribe Wainwright, it's good that you have finally arrived," the High Elder spoke, unfazed by the man's unusual garb. "Have a seat, have much to discuss."

"Of course, High Elder," sounded a speaker on the scribe's helmet, conveying his voice imperfectly through the suit. "Is this about the airship expeditions, or are Vault 0's computer systems acting up again?"

"Nothing like that, Head Scribe," the High Elder responded, "That salvaged vault supercomputer hasn't given us any trouble since the last repairs were made. We have other matters to discuss. As High Elder, it is my responsibility to ensure that efficiency of our operations is not compromised, and I require a specialist in technical matters in this respect. Additionally, I believe of someone with a scribe's background may prove useful in diplomatic dealings of nations that place higher worth of scientific endeavors than martial ones, but we will cross that bridge when we come to it, so pay it no heed for now."

"Very well," replied Wainright, as he took a seat. "What would you like me to look over?"

The High Elder slid the Pip-Boy over to where the scribe sat. "This is our most recent data regarding shipments to and from our facilities. My first concern is the Buena Vista plant. To my knowledge we've finished construction of the recon airships, so why are aircraft components still being shipped there?"

"The components are for work on the Hellion Bomber," Wainright answered. "Your predecessor was particularly invested in getting it operational and mass-produced, and had us working night and day on it. With the airship project finished, we have resumed our previous work."

"Ah yes, the Calculator's prototype aircraft," Renald reminisced, somewhat pleased at the news. "What sort of progress has been made on it?"

"Last I heard, there was some debate over what sort of robotic systems should be used run it. Possibilities include sizing down the computer systems from one of the vaults we scavenged, or augmenting its current electronics with a Mr. Gutsy processor to handle piloting and targeting functions" Wainwright stopped himself, realizing that he was rambling about technical details. "Should I presume you intend to uphold the Brotherhood's ban on the use of CODE-programmed organic processors?"

"If you are referring to Robobrains, than that is correct," Renald clarified. "The Calculator was proof of the unsoundness of that concept, and my predecessors were wise to ban the use of such dangerous and immoral technology."

"Very well," Wainwright stated, satisfied with the answer. "What else did you want me to look over?" Wainwright asked.

"Scroll down to Chicago," the High Elder ordered. We're expecting a shipment weapons to the Vault 0 region for the new initiates, but according to this, there's been nothing outgoing from our plant in Chicago. What is going on over there?"

"Industrial accident. I'm told it was because a junior scribe was mistakenly placed in charge of something beyond his ability. Minimal damage, no deaths, but production was halted for a while," Wainwright reported matter-of-factly, not even looking up from the pip-boy.

"And nobody thought to tell me?" Renald asked, visibly upset. "This may look like a minor setback to the scribes out there safe in Chicago, but out here it means a critical delay in the arming and training of our troops! Inform all scribes that any mishap that disrupts our military operations must be reported up the chain of command, regardless of the severity. We may be blessed by a relative calm, but that is no excuse for laxity."

"Affirmative, High Elder, all accidents will be reported." the chastised scribe conceded. "There will be no more repeats of this miscommunication."

"See that there isn't," ordered the High Elder sternly but calmly. "And if there's anything else in these reports that stand out to you, let me know."

"Err, actually, High Elder," Wainwright said, putting the Pip-Boy down, "There is something unusual I'm seeing.
A large shipment of Mirelurk Eggs from Tekisasu was sent to Deathclaw territory on the Kansas-Colorado border.
Is this correct?"

The High Elder chuckled, his anger from the previous matter seemingly gone. "You read that right. A while back, some of the Deathclaws stationed in Missouri developed a taste for Mirelurk meat, and now one of the Matriarchs has requested a large quantity of Mirelurk eggs in place of the usual live Brahmin shipments. I'm not sure if she wants to eat them as they are or hatch them first, but that's their business."

"Feeding eggs to Deathclaws. Arming tribals. Appointing a Glowing One to office of Head Scribe. The elders back in California will no doubt be quite perplexed our doctrines when we re-establish contact," the Head Scribe joked, having taken notice of his superior's lightened mood.

"Let them be perplexed. They've done little but dig their own grave with their foolish orthodoxy. And when they contrast their failures against the success wrought by the ideals of Barnaky, Latham, and the Warrior, they'll see the wisdom in our ways. Whether or not they'll have the humility to concede their mistakes and change their ways, I cannot say. Now, if there is nothing else, you are dismissed."

The scribe got out of his chair and walked out of the room. The door noisily shut behind him, as Renald thought to himself. As the saying goes, there is always another enemy, but with the lull in conflicts at the moment, the Brotherhood finally had breathing room to re-establish contact with the other Brotherhood Elders. Unfortunately, finding the remnants of the "original" Brotherhood would prove tricky. The western elders were rumored to have gone into hiding after the thrashing that the NCR gave them, and the expedition to the east was supposedly defeated by the Enclave.

For now, Renald's strategy would be to seek out new trading partners in the east and west, and from there they would be in a better position to track down the rest of the Brotherhood of Steel. One airship would be headed towards New Vegas, an independent city-state said to be defended by an army of remotely controlled robots, not unlike the late Calculator's forces. The second would head to the ruins of Boston, where there was rumored to be a scientific community specializing in highly advanced robotics.

It would not be long before the Midwestern Brotherhood of Steel would become known from coast to coast.
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