Or that they'd accuse someone who isn't showing any signs of mutation of being a mutant?
Earnest Evans Member
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- Earnest Evans 11 yrs ago
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Albus shook his head.
"I can't do that, sir. There's a raider attack just on the horizon. I'd watch my back if I were you. Those raiders like to sneak into our homes and plant bombs, you know!"
"If you help us defend against these Raiders, we'll gladly give up our weapons!"
"I can't do that, sir. There's a raider attack just on the horizon. I'd watch my back if I were you. Those raiders like to sneak into our homes and plant bombs, you know!"
"If you help us defend against these Raiders, we'll gladly give up our weapons!"
You might want to wait for the other players before you start moving things along, @Apollosarcher.
Albus stared daggers at Jack. This moron had led the Enclave right to them!
"Looks like I was right, Vault Dweller. The town is doomed, one way or another. However, I will do my best to keep them busy while you escalate things. I'll go talk to them, and keep them distracted."
Moving quickly, Albus sprinted out the Radiation Roost and towards the town's front gate. In no time at all, he was out the front gate and in front of the set of Vertibirds that were just now touching down. This was going to be a rough day.
"Looks like I was right, Vault Dweller. The town is doomed, one way or another. However, I will do my best to keep them busy while you escalate things. I'll go talk to them, and keep them distracted."
Moving quickly, Albus sprinted out the Radiation Roost and towards the town's front gate. In no time at all, he was out the front gate and in front of the set of Vertibirds that were just now touching down. This was going to be a rough day.
@Earnest Evans Because a bunch of back town hicks in a trading post blowing up a Verti-bird? Unlikely, last people to destory one of those was the Lone Wanderer and the BoS highly advanced groups who might still have a grudge. There are BoS soldiers in the area so they might assume this is them and that they need to deal with it.
Fair enough.
So... why would they look for a culprit instead of just assuming that the town is attacking them, and immediately begin the slaughter?
So.. wait.
The Enclave has successfully invaded the town and are now about to storm the bar and shoot up the place. If we blow up their Vertibird, what's to stop them from immediately beginning a massacre in town, even if the sheriff can get his turrets set up?
This is, in fact, proving my character's point really well, by virtue of the fact that the Enclave are coming in force just to find your character, and are powerful enough to wipe the town out.
The Enclave has successfully invaded the town and are now about to storm the bar and shoot up the place. If we blow up their Vertibird, what's to stop them from immediately beginning a massacre in town, even if the sheriff can get his turrets set up?
This is, in fact, proving my character's point really well, by virtue of the fact that the Enclave are coming in force just to find your character, and are powerful enough to wipe the town out.
So...the Enclave just suddenly came from nowhere and will now happily proceed to stand around while Jack sneaks through them and sabotages the vehicles they just came from?
Albus nodded. It was true that the sheriff's men had guns and could use them.
"You're right, of course. In the short term, the town will be safe from most threats. However, I am not talking about the short term."
Albus stood up, and plumbed his memory for stories and anecdotes. One in particular shone very brightly. His teeth gleamed as he smiled at Achilles.
"Have you ever been to Arizona, friend? My father once encountered a city of lights and industry. Mesa, a land of milk and honey for many men living in the area. Mesa was virtually impregnable to raiders. Turrets, lasers, grenades-- they had it all! They had defended themselves for decades, but had grown to depend on their irreplaceable technology. The men, not needing their guns for anything but sport and hunting, didn't bother to learn how to shoot-- the turrets did that for them! The security council, armed with lasers and trained to use only the finest in weapon repair tools and medicine-- they didn't bother to learn how to make herbal remedies or improvise weapons! The small bands of raiders that plagued them earlier now didn't bother to come at all! Life for them was as simple and carefree as a babe in the cradle!"
Albus' tone became grimmer.
"Of course, where do you think those raiders went? They banded together-- grew powerful and cunning. Overwhelming defense can only be met with overwhelming force. They bombed supply caravans, burned and salted farms, instigated terror across the community wherever they could get in! The people of Mesa grew terrified, and eventually collapsed into civil war. Those few that survived were picked off and enslaved. Met with an impenetrable fortress, these raiders undermined and corrupted-- and the city's people were not hardened enough to cope."
Albus decided to leave out the parts where Caesar's Legion rolled through, enslaved the raider tribes, and assimilated the remaining survivors into the Legion. It would put somewhat of a strain on his point.
"We need to ensure that our defenses are only capable of just barely exceeding the current threat, and that all of us are prepared for the worst-case scenario. Otherwise, we'll grow soft in our cradles, and be destroyed when that cradle falls!"
"You're right, of course. In the short term, the town will be safe from most threats. However, I am not talking about the short term."
Albus stood up, and plumbed his memory for stories and anecdotes. One in particular shone very brightly. His teeth gleamed as he smiled at Achilles.
"Have you ever been to Arizona, friend? My father once encountered a city of lights and industry. Mesa, a land of milk and honey for many men living in the area. Mesa was virtually impregnable to raiders. Turrets, lasers, grenades-- they had it all! They had defended themselves for decades, but had grown to depend on their irreplaceable technology. The men, not needing their guns for anything but sport and hunting, didn't bother to learn how to shoot-- the turrets did that for them! The security council, armed with lasers and trained to use only the finest in weapon repair tools and medicine-- they didn't bother to learn how to make herbal remedies or improvise weapons! The small bands of raiders that plagued them earlier now didn't bother to come at all! Life for them was as simple and carefree as a babe in the cradle!"
Albus' tone became grimmer.
"Of course, where do you think those raiders went? They banded together-- grew powerful and cunning. Overwhelming defense can only be met with overwhelming force. They bombed supply caravans, burned and salted farms, instigated terror across the community wherever they could get in! The people of Mesa grew terrified, and eventually collapsed into civil war. Those few that survived were picked off and enslaved. Met with an impenetrable fortress, these raiders undermined and corrupted-- and the city's people were not hardened enough to cope."
Albus decided to leave out the parts where Caesar's Legion rolled through, enslaved the raider tribes, and assimilated the remaining survivors into the Legion. It would put somewhat of a strain on his point.
"We need to ensure that our defenses are only capable of just barely exceeding the current threat, and that all of us are prepared for the worst-case scenario. Otherwise, we'll grow soft in our cradles, and be destroyed when that cradle falls!"
Albus looked at Davis like he was a lunatic.
"I'm sorry, but... do you not know how bad becoming depending on another city-state is? Forgive me, but I feel you're missing the point of this "danger to the community" thing. Allow me to explain, please."
Albus stood up, and straightened his moustache.
"The sheriff has a set of turrets available, yes. Where does the spare parts, ammunition, and repair technicians for these turrets come from? That's an important question... without them, the town would be nearly defenseless against attack!"
"Well, that answer to that is simple: you can't manufacture them without pre-war appliances and pre-war amenities. South of the Border is nice, yes, but making turret parts would require the industry of a military base! You've got two choices: One, you can scavenge parts from old world facilities. Two, you can trade for them from people who can make them-- like the Vault Dweller's group. Option one is clearly not viable in the long term, and option two seems good, but holds a clear and present danger."
"What happens when the community you're trading with suddenly wants what you have? Well, obviously, they're going to do everything in their power to withhold what you need. Spare parts, technicians, ammunition, everything that you've come to depend on them for! When you're at the end of your rope, they'll come to offer a deal-- your stuff, for their continued support. And that's how they end your community."
"Eventually, you'll become so wholly dependent on these people that life without them is possible. You're just another colony for them, to dispose of as they see fit! You'll be assimilated into the workforce of this Vault Dweller's group, and you won't even see it coming."
Albus continued to speak, imploringly.
"Please, look to the future of the community! You shouldn't grow dependent on the works of the old world! We have to regain our civilization the hard way, or else we grow complacent-- we become chattel! The raiders shrink in size, but grow in activity because of the Vault Dweller's actions! All the turrets in the world can't save us if the whole Enclave turns its eye towards us!"
It was at that point that Jack came back in, strutting like a cock in a henhouse.
Albus opted to plumb his deep knowledge of history. His instructor had been very enthusiastic about pre-war American life, and so did everything in his power to teach Albus about that.
"Please consider the consequences of a poor community being offered 'help' by a seemingly wealthy benefactor. I'm certain the town's library has some history books that cover early American history. I'm sure you'll be interested to read about them, especially about what happened in Cuba."
Albus turned to Jack. An inquisitive look crossed his face.
"Since your friend is so cocksure about you and your friends' beneficence, I want to see for myself. I want you to take me to your home Vault, and to the Brotherhood of Steel. Let me see who they are and what they do, and I will do everything in my power to assuage the tensions felt by the townsfolk."
Albus smiled gently, and looked Jack in the eyes.
"I only want to help. Maybe your group got it right, this time."
"I'm sorry, but... do you not know how bad becoming depending on another city-state is? Forgive me, but I feel you're missing the point of this "danger to the community" thing. Allow me to explain, please."
Albus stood up, and straightened his moustache.
"The sheriff has a set of turrets available, yes. Where does the spare parts, ammunition, and repair technicians for these turrets come from? That's an important question... without them, the town would be nearly defenseless against attack!"
"Well, that answer to that is simple: you can't manufacture them without pre-war appliances and pre-war amenities. South of the Border is nice, yes, but making turret parts would require the industry of a military base! You've got two choices: One, you can scavenge parts from old world facilities. Two, you can trade for them from people who can make them-- like the Vault Dweller's group. Option one is clearly not viable in the long term, and option two seems good, but holds a clear and present danger."
"What happens when the community you're trading with suddenly wants what you have? Well, obviously, they're going to do everything in their power to withhold what you need. Spare parts, technicians, ammunition, everything that you've come to depend on them for! When you're at the end of your rope, they'll come to offer a deal-- your stuff, for their continued support. And that's how they end your community."
"Eventually, you'll become so wholly dependent on these people that life without them is possible. You're just another colony for them, to dispose of as they see fit! You'll be assimilated into the workforce of this Vault Dweller's group, and you won't even see it coming."
Albus continued to speak, imploringly.
"Please, look to the future of the community! You shouldn't grow dependent on the works of the old world! We have to regain our civilization the hard way, or else we grow complacent-- we become chattel! The raiders shrink in size, but grow in activity because of the Vault Dweller's actions! All the turrets in the world can't save us if the whole Enclave turns its eye towards us!"
It was at that point that Jack came back in, strutting like a cock in a henhouse.
Albus opted to plumb his deep knowledge of history. His instructor had been very enthusiastic about pre-war American life, and so did everything in his power to teach Albus about that.
"Please consider the consequences of a poor community being offered 'help' by a seemingly wealthy benefactor. I'm certain the town's library has some history books that cover early American history. I'm sure you'll be interested to read about them, especially about what happened in Cuba."
Albus turned to Jack. An inquisitive look crossed his face.
"Since your friend is so cocksure about you and your friends' beneficence, I want to see for myself. I want you to take me to your home Vault, and to the Brotherhood of Steel. Let me see who they are and what they do, and I will do everything in my power to assuage the tensions felt by the townsfolk."
Albus smiled gently, and looked Jack in the eyes.
"I only want to help. Maybe your group got it right, this time."
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