| Paper Fallout, the story; so our ideas and the story can be in two different topics so it's not confusing | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Aug 2 2013, 03:43 PM (1,846 Views) | |
| Atticus | Apr 24 2014, 01:09 PM Post #61 |
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Goomward Location: Koopolis Graveyard (Bowser's Region) Music: http://youtu.be/rE7S4nLrThs It was your first night in the wasteland. You had pictured it being more glorious than it ended up being, but unsure exactly if it was better than in the Vault or not. Sitting on the rim, staring downwards into the pit of all of Koopolis' gore. The Rad-Chomps were still eating to their hearts' content, but the scavengers had at least taken a break. They made you sick to your stomach. The scavengers, you meant. Sure, your whole purpose was to go out in the wasteland and become the richest merchant that ever wandered these hellish lands, but you made an unspoken vow to yourself that you wouldn't end up like those scavengers, sorting through the gore for the shinies. For right now, all you needed was your Brass Coin. Luck was the only thing you ever needed, in fact, ever since you can remember life has been better since you found it; but before, everything seemed to go wrong. You then felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned your head and saw a toothless smile, it was a Toad, one of the scavengers you had been watching before, and he was gesticulating at the Brass Coin in your hands. Toad Scavenger: If ya know whats good for ya, you'd just give that to me, right now. Goomward: Go back looking through the pile. You'll have better chances. Besides, this thing is worthless. Toad Scavenger: Then why do ya bother to carry it around with ya, smartass? I'll be tah judge if it is worthless. Goomward: It's lucky. That's all.) Toad Scavenger: Ya don't think luck is valuable? My friends and I, we could use a bit oa luck. So, I'll be taking that, thank ya kindly... As he reached to snatch the Brass Coin from your hand, you pulled it away from him. His eyes of madness flared with anger. He pulled out a switchblade, its blade partly rusted. The Sons Koopatrols who had only been standing idly by, suddenly took a more active pose, readying their weapons. You knew that if you two started causing trouble, then most likely they'd just kill you both rather than sorting it out. After all, the pit had more room. It always did, with the Rad-Chomps taking a good share. You didn't want to fight, but you weren't going to allow this braindead scavenger to take your lucky charm from you. Goomward: I suggest for you to be on your way, now. You already had your other hand on a pistol you had snatched from one of the raiders you managed to kill earlier, but the Toad Scavenger seemed unwilling to press the issue. He left you alone, and the Koopatrols relaxed. Nonetheless, you didn't wish to remain here any longer anyways. With the Toad Scavenger's threatening glare still in your mind, you stood up, and started heading west, around the corpse pit. You didn't get too far, as a Koopatrol stopped you. Koopatrol: If I was you, Goomba, I'd turn back right now. Beyond here is the Shimmering Plains. Used to be Dry Dry Desert, but now it's nothing but blackened glass. Legend says an atomic bomb landed right in the heart of the entire damned desert... as a result, it's irradiated beyond belief. To survive the trek through it, you'd have to have a hell of lot of supplies. And as far as we know, there's nothing out there. Not even our main army dares to cross through it, and no scouts have ever returned. You looked ahead to the Shimmering Plains, a featureless expanse for as far as the eye could see in all directions of magnificent scorched black glass, reflecting the stars above in the occasional clear splotch. Fumes were billowing off parts of it, and it looked as if during the day time that the glass reflecting the sun at you would likely be blinding. You decided you would pass for now, and head North instead to find a way around. Walking onwards, you set your eyes forward, keeping them away from the pit of corpses, or the treacherous plains. Edited by Khan, Sep 5 2014, 10:16 AM.
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| Khan | May 5 2014, 04:22 PM Post #62 |
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Kapp Location: Tempest (Eye of the Storm) Music: http://youtu.be/TpUnKSe8yug You and Ted T. had arrived at the closest civilization, north from Blood Knot through the canyons and plains that wined and twisted in the central part of the wastes. It was a risk for sure, as the reach of the Sons seemed inescapable sometimes, they had ways of finding out, but the Sons were only part of the reason why you felt unsafe at this particular civilization. It was called Tempest, and it was a town formed by and for crazies. At the center of the town was an unexploded Blue Shell atomic bomb. Obviously, it had been launched by Bowser's Kingdom back during the war. Despite having been guaranteed by Kamek himself that all bombs of Bowser had no chances of failing, a few still did. Otherwise, this entire area would have been nothing more than a smoldering crater. Things would have been better that way, you thought. In the atomic fallout that followed the great war, people who had somehow survived the bombings on the surface made their way to the center of the wasteland. Put up a few pieces of scrap acting as a perimeter for the Blue Shell. Years went by, and before you knew it, you had a full thriving community, all around undetonated megatons of explosive. Then, some idiot took that suicidal step that stretched the frayed ends of sanity to their limit, and started preaching in front of it, calling the shell a god taking on a familiar form. Thus, the Church of the Blue was formed. The acolytes claimed that the Blue Shell whispered to them through radiation, that it was actually a deity's avatar sent from the heavens themselves. Why else would the Blue Shell have landed without exploding, right at the heart of the wasteland? Amazingly, the church grew in power, and only more and more people began to flock to Tempest to join them. You guessed some people just wanted to have something to believe in in these desperate times, but you thought that this was probably not a good place to put hope, what little may these people may have left. Nothing but trouble, sooner or later. They referred to their community, the ground it stood on, once being the very eye of the atomic storm. They actually considered this something worth praising. The cracked and sterile dirt was entirely infertile and worthless, not a single ounce of life would ever spring forth from it for centuries, if not longer. But still, these crazed savages were capable enough of keeping their community standing through trade, artisans, and hunting. You tried to think not as a Son, but it was hard to think much of anything of a group of wastelanders that willingly choose to worship an undetonated atomic bomb, it just seemed so pointless and needlessly dangerous. You had seen too much in your life to believe anything good would become of it. Any day, it could just choose to go up and consume them all. An entire civilization gone, because of their bright idea to make the bomb their god. You wanted to just get some food and maybe a few winks of sleep somewhere, and then you'd leave without the kid. He seemed a kind enough lad, which explained why he had been such a shitty raider recruit. It'd be nice to continue on with him as your companion, but you knew it would be best for both of you to split ways. Anybody close to you now would most likely get killed by the Sons if caught. You had seen more than a few of the Sons' hunters go out for those that tried to abandon, hell, you had even sent some. Some were brought back to be killed publicly or sometimes privately in Koopolis, but the others, only parts of them were brought back. He still remembered the awful jokes they would crack. "Where'd you leave the rest of them?", one Koopatrol would joke. Some, like yourself, were deadly but serious. Others, were just downright cruel and monstrous and enjoyed what they did, to the extent they could even make light of it with no remorseful thought whatsoever. Those were the ones who had gotten so warped by the wastes and the Sons' philosophy that they were hardly people anymore, just empty shells inhabited by primal urges and base desires. Besides, all that torture and pain aside, you knew you'd have an influence on the poor kid if he kept walking with you. He might start to act like you, ask you to teach him stuff, stuff that it would be better if he didn't know. One Koopis Kapp was more than enough for this wasteland. Your work with the Sons had done enough damage, corrupting the youth with your fatal knowledge and experience would just end up hurting you both. Despite being one of the oldest Koopas that was still in action for your time, you were still mostly lucid and in touch with your real self, your honor, more than the other Sons Officers. And that was one of the only reasons you didn't kill yourself right now. No, you had one last mission to accomplish. You wanted to find some way to bring peace to the wastes, maybe even stop the war before it goes into full swing. But first... Fleeing the Sons. You and Ted T. had reached Tempest after a long while of walking, looking for an inn to sleep in for the night. Many of the various species in the streets were gaunt looking, bald, and often had many visible sores oozing pus on their faces or hands. They stared at you for a few seconds with sunken but interested eyes before moving back to their business. Your Toad companion cringed at them, but you just ignored it. More important things to think about. Ted T.: Man, these people here are fucked. Do we have to stay here? Down the street, a Toad dressed in light blue robes and a blue-and -white mushroom cap above a sore-covered head was preaching on top of a box at a crowd of similarly-dressed people. The Toad had wild white hair in between bald patches and had to almost close one eye due to the affliction on his face. You guys continued on toward him, Ted T. staring at them with unease. Toad Preacher: ...and therefore, you must embrace the power of The Blue into your soul, into your very essence! The Blue loves you all with its warmth and divine markings! Keep the faith, my children, for one day The Blue will bring us all into its golden kingdom, and there we will find salvation! Kapp: Damn naive sods, they have no idea what they're messing with. Ted T.: And you do? And answer my question, Mr. Hasn't Even Told Me His Name Yet. Kapp: My name shouldn't matter to you, what should matter is that I let you live after you pulled a gun on me. Be grateful, not many wastelanders would do such a charity. As for these zealots, they seem fervent, but harmless, for now. We're staying here because I'm not sure when the next rest will be, it's only for one night. As you waited for Ted T.'s inevitable retort, you felt a flash of panic as you noticed the preacher had spotted you both. The panic you felt was not because you were afraid that he would be a loose end and no doubt betray you to the Sons if they came here, but because you already knew what was going to follow that one single anxious glance he gave you both. Toad Preacher: Ah, new arrivals. What say you, pilgrims? Have you come to bask in the glory that is The Blue? We are always welcome to visitors, but we are even more so to those who wish to join our faith. For it is faith, that unifies us so. How else would someone explain our perseverance, even through darkest of times? Naysayers, invaders, raiders, slavers, all of them have sought to bring an end to Tempest, yet we have stood firm and dominant within the very Eye of the Storm for many years! It is The Blue, and its embrace, that we must thank. Shall you join us in our nightly prayer? Every part of you wished to make this foolish old Toad know that he was wasting both his life and his time here. He worshiped nothing but a bomb, protected dead and infertile land, and with his venomous but intoxicating words, he was damning all those that were foolish enough to follow this fate as well. But you knew how people like the preacher worked. If you made a scene here, he would most definitely remember you, and if some Sons came asking, he would no doubt give away all he could about you, deeming you nothing but a wandering infidel who insulted him as well as his moronic beliefs. Every word that came out of your mouth following these thoughts were painful, but you wished not to end up getting your throat slit in the night, whether it be by the Sons or these fanatics. Kapp: Sorry, while it does sound... intriguing, me and my companion are simply in search for a night's rest. Perhaps in the morning, we'll take you up on your... alluring offer. Come, Ted. There was a disappointed and perhaps even malicious look in the preacher's eyes, but he seemed to make an instantaneous positive rebound. Toad Preacher: Your journey here most likely was perilous. In the morning then, we shall unite and deliver a worthy prayer to The Blue! You and Ted T. hastened your pace as you walked through the streets, hoping to put as much space between you and that preacher as you possibly could. You entered a rickety wooden scrap hybrid inn called "Divine Hospitality" and laid out some of the coins from your cache for a room to an indifferent Pianta who seemingly didn't have sores on him. You walked up to your windowless, barely furnished room and entered, you'd sleep on the couch and the kid could have the bed. Ted. T.: What's going to happen tomorrow? Kapp: You can go wherever you want to. I have my own path set out, and you'd just slow me down. Ted. T.: I have nowhere to go, that's why I joined those Raiders in the first place. I don't want to starve and be cold again, please mister, take me with you. You looked at Ted. T. and saw he was pretty sullen, and looked sincere enough, but that was exactly why you couldn't take him with you. Where you were going was a place you probably wouldn't come back from, and this kid had his whole life ahead of him. Better if he made his own way, you figured. At least then you wouldn't have to see the sincerity fade from his eyes in front of you. Kapp: I'll think about it, kid. In the meantime, let me sleep for a while. We've been walking a long time. The kid seemed satisfied with your lie, and laid down on the bed across from the dirty couch you sat on. There would be no thinking about it. In a few hours after a nap and quick meal, you'd leave Ted. T. in the middle of the night to his own devices come morning. Edited by Khan, May 5 2014, 08:39 PM.
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| Khan | May 5 2014, 07:48 PM Post #63 |
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Wister Location: Glitz's End (Bazaar; Rogueport's Region) Music: http://youtu.be/7bW75OwVXZI (Radio Rogueport Vegas) With the sounds of pre-war music accompanying you, you left the bar and once more entered the town enveloped in darkness called Glitz's End. You had spent enough time reflecting on what you had done. If there would be consequences to come from what you had done tonight, then you would just have to face them head on. Wallowing in regret and sorrow over it would be meaningless, and the proper opportunity one of these other crooks lurking in the shadows would take advantage of. You pushed your feelings about the murder you just committed to the back of your mind and comforted yourself by assuring that you weren't at the bottom of the shitpile that was this town. Well, at least not yet. Hopefully never, but you still had your doubts. If Howard and Kaz had taught you anything, it was that this town was a pit of quicksand. If one stays too long, who knows if they'll ever manage to leave? These thoughts of yours were cut short by the music getting interrupted, and the annoying and seriously grating voice of that damned Pianta announcer came on again. It was time for the news, you thought. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This is still Radio Rogueport Vegas, and I'm your smooth and suave host: Mr. Gambler. Let's see what the cards hold for the wasteland tonight..." You wanted to get over your conditioned hatred of Piantas, but you just couldn't help yourself. Everything about this smooth talking idiot made you angry. The tone of his voice, his constant returning to gambling jokes and puns, and how he spoke so damn calmly about things that were going on. Last time, he had mentioned that there were new slavers in the area, but his voice told you that he actually thought of this as one of the lesser interesting things that had happened today. As if, it was something that happened every day. Sure, you knew that it indeed probably did happen every day in the wastes, but that superiority in his voice told it all. His radio station wasn't anywhere near those slavers, he was in Rogueport Vegas, probably entirely safe and laughing his goddamned smug Pianta face off with a cigar in his mouth. It's either they're smug and selfish, or they're manipulative dicks. Sometimes, they're even both. You decided you'd walk slower for a a while to listen to the news. You weren't in any hurry. While there were some pretty bad people in this town, you knew there were no doubt even worse things outside, waiting for you in the darkness of the wastes. [cut music] "Tension is rising between the NMR and the Sons of Bowser. Odds are in the favor of an eventual all out war breaking out sometime. While the Sons of Bowser expanded into the wastelands years ago from the east, the NMR took longer as they settled and fortified the west. An uneasy relationship with the Shy Brotherhood probably didn't help their progress that much. The Sons of Bowser though, haha, they just cleaved their way forwards. The NMR have only recently started making a presence in the wasteland, and have not yet arrived en masse, not showing their full hand yet. They have no foothold currently, and I'd wager that the Sons aren't going to make it easy for them to get one. I can only wonder what our Don thinks about this. Will he support the west? Or will he support the east? Only time will tell, I suppose. Feel free to hedge your bets in the meantime, folks. But for now, let's see what's going on in the wastes on a less larger scale. A couple of months ago, my frequent or not-so frequent listeners, you may have remembered me talking of the manufacturing plant a bit west from Glitz's End. It was no secret that the place was a gold mine if you were looking for scrap. But a few months ago, it was reported that a lone Shy Guy was seen entering it, loaded up with a hell of a lot of supplies. You may be asking, why are you spending airtime talking about this? Well, those in that area made reports of it seemingly overnight after that Shy Guy entered the place, that additions had been made. Now months later, the place is positively a fortress of scrap resting on the horizon. A huge wall of scrap surrounds the plant itself. Many have tried to get in, but none so far have found any luck, if they don't get vaporized by the defenses he set up. Who knows what the hell that Shy Guy is keeping in there that requires such protection? What I want to know is where he learned to build that fast and that well. I mean, it's an impenetrable fortress, folks. It puts both the Sons and NMR to shame, honestly. I think there actually is a gate built into the wall somewhere, but it's locked up tighter than a casino's vault. The Shy Guy clearly wasn't stupid when he was planning the design of his castle. Maybe one day, we'll see the secrets that are no doubt locked away inside, but odds are, it won't be any time soon. That brings me to my one worthwhile news story from that area. Know that wasteland tavern, a ways east of Glitz's End and west from the Colony of Rust? Called Bucket of Bile? There was a hell of a gunfight inside, apparently resulting from some sort of dispute. Now, here's where things get weird. The dispute arose from the bar's owner unwillingness to serve synthetics, or in other words, androids. You heard me correctly, listeners. Apparently, in that part of the wasteland, while androids obviously aren't a commodity, people still have attitudes against them. Figures, something unknown or different appears, our first reaction is how we can treat it as something lesser or try to kill it. But weirdly enough, the leader of this band of synthetic men was a living and breathing entirely organic male Toad. How lucky is he? It's one thing to have friends in the wasteland, but it's another to have four or five of them, and androids, no less... Well, that brings me to the end of this news broadcast. See ya in the morning, and remember folks to stay classy wastelanders. Back, to some more music..." [play music again] At least this broadcast had been a bit more interesting than the last. You weren't sure yet which side you would take in the faction war, if you had to take one. From what Rast told you, both seemed to have their own flaws. West was bureaucracy, corruption, dishonesty and opulence, East was getting nailed onto a wooden cross if you didn't do as you were expected. Good thing you were in the north, which seemed to be independent of both sides, at least for now. You had grimaced when the host mentioned a Don. Obviously it would be a Pianta, and obviously that Pianta was the head of Rogueport Vegas; what could possibly go wrong? Corruption, crucifixion, or Pianta leadership. Gee, what great choices. You shrugged. This faction war didn't concern you, what did on the other hand was surviving and making a bit of coin to keep yourself afloat. Thus, you resumed your walk through Glitz's End, back towards the entrance. It was on your way that you felt a familiar feeling that all Bandits should know instinctively. A hand was in your pocket, reaching for what little coin you had accrued so far. Quickly, you spun around and faced a crooked grin on a mask with a grey ragged hood behind it. If it would have been anything but a Bandit, you no doubt would have started a fight right there and then. But this was not the case, and you weren't going to flush away one of the only sayings that you had committed to memory after hearing throughout your time in the Vault. Not yet. Loyalty amongst Bandits. The honor in that saying is what kept you and your old friends alive back in the Vault. At least, until recently. Grey Bandit: Ahh shit. Can't catch a break today. After quickly checking to see if your coin pouch was still indeed in your pocket, you gave the other Bandit a slight nod. It had been all he needed to dart back into the darkness of Glitz's End, no doubt in search of another target, this time hopefully somebody less aware, paying less attention. A slight grin now on your face, you departed Glitz's End for the first time. But like many that had walked outside of the town at least once before, you knew that you'd most likely be back again. Location: Glitz's End (exterior; Rogueport's Region) Music: Keep Music (Radio Rogueport Vegas) You just needed to deliver your end of the trouble, and receive payment. Then, maybe you'd take another. Mercenary work wasn't all that bad, but you did hope that the next one would be a little bit more simpler. Or at the very least, less... tangled. Still, you did hope that even with what Kaz had paid you to do, you hoped that he would end up alright now that his brother was gone. He was chaining him down. You were sure what you had done was out of mercy, not viciousness. He would have gotten himself killed if you had let him be. Right? You kept telling yourself that, but it wasn't making you feel better. The look in Howard's eyes as he died was burned in your memory forever. You silently damned that the Sleepy Sheep wasn't enough to guarantee someone would remain asleep as you slit their throat with a jagged piece of glass you had picked up after smashing a beer bottle against the street. You passed by the gate guards and just gave them a nod. Pollack grinned at you in a way that seemed knowing and Joshua just shrugged and looked out into the night. You passed by and went out into the dark of the wastes once again, your Radio echoing out into the unknown. You walked for a little ways, hearing less sounds of predators than you did earlier, and looked up at the sky. It seemed like it was going to be morning soon, as the darkness began to break up slowly towards the horizon. That was when you saw another figure in the darkness somewhat a bit south of Glitz's End fighting what appeared to be fire breathing creatures, and you stopped and considered if you should help or not. On one hand, they were breathing fire. On the other hand, maybe it doesn't hurt to be a good guy sometimes, following a rather nasty murder involving a jagged shard of a beer bottle? It might help you put it completely behind you, and the guy looked to be a fellow Bandit. Well, what will you do? NOTES/RUMORS ADDED NUMBER OF MOVES LEFT IN CYCLE: 1 Edited by Khan, Sep 5 2014, 10:41 AM.
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| Khan | May 6 2014, 07:40 AM Post #64 |
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Shen Ji Location: Glitz's End (Vestibule; Rogueport's Region) Music: https://www.yourepeat.com/watch?v=9e84Hyl-bHs You turned away from the sign and paid no more heed to it or the other denizens of the streets. You wanted to avoid any trouble and just meet with this so called boss of these brigands. You walked down the streets as the stench and decay of desperate living mixed with the burning air of The Forge in your nostrils, not looking at anybody for too long in the streets and ignoring the commotion and spectating going on near the town's center, you just figured it was some of them fighting in that arena for sport or something. It wasn't something you needed to see or take part in, you had more important things to do. Just wanted to go about your business in peace. But then two drunkards came stumbling out of an alleyway between two scrap structures in front of you, one was a green Clubba holding a large bottle with X's on its label and the other was a brown Yoshi with a smaller bottle of beer and a frayed straw hat. Drunk Clubba: Wellsh, whats we have 'ere? *hic* Shome snooty Nin-blah oushider? *hic* Drunk Yoshi: *hic* Yoush damn Nin-blahs ur alwaysh tryin' to shove a shtick up oursh ashes! *hic* Learn ta live a little! Drunk Clubba: I don like Nin-blahs. The Clubba looked like he was going to do something stupid while his Yoshi buddy was almost tripping over his own feet, so you decided to just keep moving and try to diffuse the conflict. Shen Ji: It's okay. Everything's alright, sirs. I'm just passing through, don't mean to interrupt your activity. I must be going. The Clubba looked dumbfounded as you walked around him and started to continue your walk to The War Room. Drunk Clubba: Uhhh.... Figures wish a Nin-blah. After passing the two drunkards without incident, you continued your path to The War Room, arriving in The Forge, a place of hammers striking metal even now in the night, molten hot alloys melting in furnaces and shaped into all sorts of weapons or armors, welders and smiths of various races busy attending to their smithing duties. It was really a magnificent sight to behold, such organization and craft even here in this scorched, mostly dead world, was very impressive. It looked like the workers were melting down scrap metal and ore for smithing, and storing the finished products in the nearby Armory and Quartermaster's Office. You guessed it figured though, weapons are the life of a Raider group, and such good smithing capabilities would allow them to rise to the level they're at now. When you were done admiring the handiwork and toil of The Horde's armorers, you coughed as the smell of the sulfurous, hot, metallic air and ash singed your lungs slightly. After almost stumbling to the ground, you quickly got used to it enough to be tolerable. You quickly worked your way around the tables and rows of workers and into the next district: The War Room. This areas of the city seemed to be mainly a huge two story building made of scrap and forged steel adorned with balconies, open walkways, and many entrances. It was surrounded by a few smaller buildings that seemed to be barracks and storage buildings of a much nicer construction than the buildings when you first arrived. One side of the center building and half the surrounding buildings on your left were draped in graffiti K's and urban hieroglyphs of a Koopatrol in black armor, while the other half had graffiti G's and spray painted pictures of a Toad wearing red-and-blue. You noticed that mixed in with the G's was one graffito that said "FEEL THE RAWK!" in small yellow letters. You reasoned the boss would be at the huge building, and began walking towards it when you felt a hand caress your right shoulder. You quickly turned around, hand on your blade, only to see a scantily clad female blue Squeek with a G on her forehead looking at you with a glint in her eyes. Shen Ji: Can I.... help you, miss? The Squeek girl giggled and walked closer towards you. Slutty Squeek: Haha, you're a real cutie, arent'cha? I don't see many like you around these parts... Do you think you have some time to come.. "talk" with me in my room? It gets awfully boring just spending so much time with the leader folks and the other girls. Ugh... This was just another distraction. You didn't need to spend any more time with this dishonorable wench. You had things to do. Shen Ji: No, you need not get your hopes up, cur, but I keep myself clean of such base vices. Keep your diseases of the flesh to yourself. The Squeek girl looked aghast and surprised. She reaches out to slap you, but you caught her hand and threw her to the ground. Then turned around and continued walking. What a foul city this was. As you neared the large building's main heavy double doors, you saw a huge red Clubba in heavy scrap armor that had a K and a gray Bandit in medium scrap armor that had a G flanking the door. The Clubba was armed with a huge maul, and the Bandit had an assault carbine. The Bandit motioned for you to stop. Bandit Guard: Hmph, you must be the Ninji everyone's talking about. It's good that you finished that job, now the area will be safer for our raiding parties and caravans. Shen Ji: I have finished the job, as requested. And caravans? I didn't know you guys were the trading type. Bandit Guard: Mostly just weapons, but also plunder we don't have a use for. Anyway, I'm Dunnel and this next to me is Tank, we're platoon leaders and chiefs of security for The War Room. The Clubba turned towards you and offered you his hand, nearly squishing it in the process, before speaking in a voice as deep as an ocean trench. Tank: Ninjis are very interesting, don't see many of them these days. You could do good work for us. Shen Ji: Depends on what it is. I'm no common criminal. Dunnel gravely chuckled at that in a way that showed he didn't really find it funny. Dunnel: That's what they all say. We'll see. But follow us, we'll lead you in. Koopinator and Gonzales are waiting. Location: Glitz's End (Hall of Champions; Rogueport's Region) Music: https://www.yourepeat.com/watch?v=yrmAuYSEKlg Tank opened the door and beckoned you and Dunnel in with his maul, with Dunnel leading you and Tank behind, closing the door with a bang as you entered. The inside of the structure was a long hall with rooms on either side that led up to a central chamber. In the rooms were books, maps, papers, and other things strewn across tables with some of the more intelligent members looking at them. Some contained workbenches or more storage areas, and a few even had a terminal or two. These were definitely not your average Raiders. As you entered the main chamber, you saw that there were multiple staircases on either side leading up to the upper levels, and a large semi-circular meeting table surrounding one large chair with a metal K on the top, and a slightly smaller chair with a metal G on it next to the bigger chair. In the one with the K was a Koopatrol with blackened armor and in the one with the G was a Bandit with a red coat and blue jeans. The table in front of them was empty. In the area behind them, you could see a large vault door; in the sides of the chamber were scrap statues of a Koopatrol and a Bandit that looked like the two on the seats. Shrines were set up at either one, with some people bowing at each. As you neared, the Koopatrol and Bandit got up; Tank and Dunnel bowed before walking back outside. Koopinator: The Ninji from the vault returns victorious, well done. I have little faith in your kind, but you've made me interested. Most Ninjis wouldn't want to associate with a band of "Raiders". Gonzales: Welcome to our palace of scrap and blight, former vault dweller, how do you like it? You didn't really, but didn't want to insult them by being completely honest. Shen Ji: The Forge is very impressive, I've never seen anything like it. Gonzales: You don't get to the top without having an -edge- over the competition. Haha, get it? Koopinator: Many outsiders are in awe of our accomplishments. They think that our society keeps us down, when it really culls the weak and allows us to exist not as a people, but as an idea. The Horde cannot be stopped unless every one of us is wiped out, because if one remains, they will start us anew. Gonzales: We don't rely on technology or modern conveniences as much as the Sons or the NMR sissies do. That is our strength, the ability to adapt and change, to live on. Shen Ji: Looks like there's a bit more to you than meets the eye. Koopinator: As it should be. Never reveal your strengths and weaknesses. Gonzales: Besides, having the people stick apart allows them to do as they please, for the most part. They're happy, we're happy. While you weren't sure about their philosophy, you were eager to finish the job. Shen Ji: In any case, I have done as you asked. You laid the Cannibals' heads on the table in front of them. Koopinator: And it has not gone unrewarded. Gonzales pulled a small pouch out from his pocket and tossed you in, which you caught handily. It felt like Coins, maybe a few other things. Gonzales: Buy yourself something pretty, Ninji. Shen Ji: My name is Shen Ji. Koopinator: We'll call you what we want, until you earn a bit more respect. Shen Ji: If you insist. Was there something else you needed me for? Gonzales: You seem pretty capable, and we could always use a few new hands. I was thinking that you could go and negoti- Koopinator turned and glared at Gonzales, who half-heartedly returned it before shutting up. Koopinator: No, we have more important matters than more idle talk. A thief has broken in here a few days ago and stole a paper detailing some of the caravan routes in this region, we need those routes to assist in our raiding parties as well as our own caravans. The thief is likely still in the city, we think he's hiding out in the Reject Bloc near the Living Quarters. You can meet up with our man in that area, Spoil, for leads. Gonzales: Look for a Goomba that's got a fancy outfit. Shen Ji: Punishing a thief? That's very surprising coming from the leaders of this town. Gonzales: Thieves that steal from the citizens are at the mercy of their skill and their quarry's temperament. But if they steal from us directly, then their ass is grass. Koopinator: Complete this task, and we'll reward you, and make you officially one of us. Shen Ji: I might want some information as a reward actually... Koopinator: We can discuss that later. Now, what'll it be? Hmm... You didn't like the idea of being an enforcer for Raiders, but you had few options besides just setting out and trying to find your own way. Maybe one or two things couldn't hurt, right? Just to help you get started... Well, what will you do? LOST: 4x Cannibal Toad Heads (Quest Item), 1x Cannibal Toad Leader Head (Quest Item) GAINED: 15 Coins, Dry Shroom, DODGE! (Badge), Scrap Metal QUEST COMPLETE QUEST XP GAINED: +6 XP NOTES/RUMORS ADDED NUMBER OF MOVES LEFT IN CYCLE: -- Edited by Khan, Sep 5 2014, 10:43 AM.
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| Khan | May 6 2014, 08:42 AM Post #65 |
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Seras: Location: Koopolis (Commons; Bowser's Region) Music: http://www.yourepeat.com/watch?v=_mu3_WkcJz8 You quickly got a grip on yourself and got moving. Staying still would just get you caught, or worse. You saw the dead Koopatrol's armor folded up neatly on top of one of the footlockers, and began to change from your Vault Jumpsuit into it when you remembered the dead body. Even though he was dead and his head was crushed, you didn't want the Koopatrol watching you change. It just felt... weird. You opened the other footlocker and dumped the items onto the floor, trying to stuff the body into it, but it wouldn't fit. Attempting to force the body inside made it even more disfigured, and you had to look away for a few seconds to regain your composure. It took several seconds of banging the lid on the corpse's legs, but eventually it contorted into an unholy shape and was inside, allowing you to close the lid tough. That should keep things alright for a while. Even if there was a bit of blood and some flesh chunks on the floor, there was nothing you could do about that besides putting the bedroll on top of it. Okay. Now for the disguise. You removed your Vault Jumpsuit and quickly changed into the Koopatrol's green-and-red armor. It was really heavy for you, and you weren't entirely used to the clunkiness, but it was usable. You just had to hope you looked less ridiculous than you felt, or that you wouldn't trip and fall over. How did the Sons fight like this? You could barely see anything or breathe with the helmet on. That's when you remembered the footlocker stuff. You first looked at the stuff you dumped onto the floor: a Bowie Knife, a Dry Shroom, a Rusted Bowl, a Dusty Hammer, and a Tin Can. And what was this! Carson was right, there was a key to your slave collar there too. You quickly removed the helmet and put it into the collar's locking mechanism. It beeped, and for a second you thought it was going to explode and take your head with it, but then it loosened up and fell to the ground; you figured you might as well pick it up, it might come in handy later. A surge of happiness filled you, you were free. At least for now. The other footlocker had nothing in it and seemed like it was where the armor was supposed to be stored. It didn't look like individual Sons kept many possessions, this would have to do. You stored the stuff and stood at the tent's entrance that you had been so unceremoniously forced through not so long earlier. Outside there would be more of them, and a great risk of getting caught. If you failed or revealed yourself, you almost certainly would be killed or made a slave again, and then you probably wouldn't get another escape chance. You took a deep breath, and began to unbutton the flaps on the tent, light from the pole lights outside shining in like the blinding sunlight as you left the Vault. Your hands were shaking slightly, making it take longer than it should've to get the last few buttons undone, but you stopped for a few seconds to brace your hands and finished the job. You stepped outside, and the annoying megaphone music got slightly louder. It was starting to just blend in with everything else and you became less aware of it being there at all, whether that was a good or a bad sign you didn't know, but there were bigger things to worry about. A few Koopatrols, Goombas, Clubbas, and one or two Eastern Toads were sitting in front of their own tents or walking around. It didn't look like any of them heard or suspected anything. And wait a second, there was a Red Yoshi with similar armor as the Goombas on walking toward the market, didn't the gate guards say that they didn't let Yoshis join? What gives? Whatever. Your gear was the first thing on your mind, and that would probably be near the slave pens. You walked a few steps back through what you remembered was the route you were brought through when a Koopatrol walked up to you and you froze for a few seconds. Koopatrol: Everything alright in there, soldier? I heard a bit of a racket. You tried your best to sound like a dude, but you weren't sure how convincing it would be. Seras: Err... Yeah, everything's perfectly normal. Just... uh... Having some fun with one of the new slaves, you know how that goes. The Koopatrol laughed and tapped his hand on your shoulder. You did't like him touching you, but let him to avoid blowing your cover. Koopatrol: Ahaha, I see. Very well then. Deciding to take a walk before going back in for round 2, I take it? Talking about all this so casually with one of them filled you with disgust, but you also held that back. Seras: Right... Uh... Which way is it to the slave pens again? I'm feeling a bit empty-headed. Koopatrol: A few rounds of the ol' bump n' grind combined with bright street lights will do that to you. Just head down the rows of tents to the deeper part of the city, can't miss it. It's the huge walled off section. Why are you going there though, I thought you already brought a slave out? Shit. You tried to think fast. Seras: Uh... Well... I just thought that maybe I could maybe... make a company of three. Koopatrol: Sounds nice. Have fun while you can, the officers tell me that a few of us might head out to the Knot soon. Odds are we won't be coming back; even though Koopis Kapp is leading the forces there, the fighting is still brutal, I hear. Seras: We'll see what happens. Now, if you'll excuse me. The Koopatrol shrugged and walked off leaving you to walk as best you could towards the section of the city that had a scrap wall around it that was almost as high as the black obsidian fortress-like stone walls surrounding the city. You weren't sure if it looked more or less hopeless from the outside. You shuffled along as best you could in the heavy armor, the heavy boots scraping the cobblestones, trying to look casual but not feeling like you were succeeding. It felt as if any second you would hear shouts that you were an escaped slave, and then you would be overtaken, but none came. In fact, a few times you swore you heard footsteps rushing toward you or some of those shouts, but none ever came. As you reached the Slave Pens, you saw that the outside consisted of scrap walls with a stone-scrap building on the outside of it, with four or five guards along the walls's perimeter, and two more guards in front of the building. The building was probably where they were keeping your stuff, you needed to get in, find it, and take it back. It was almost morning soon. You had time for a few more things before then though. Well, what will you do? GAINED: SOB Combat Armor, SOB Combat Helmet, Dry Shroom, Tin Can, Rusted Bowl, Bowie Knife, Dusty Hammer, Slave Collar (Deactivated) NUMBER OF MOVES LEFT IN CYCLE: -- Edited by Khan, Sep 12 2014, 07:38 AM.
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| Khan | Sep 5 2014, 10:46 AM Post #66 |
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Orin and Wister Location: The Wasteland (Rogueport's Region) Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I-4EYg-_WiE Orin Instinctively ducking, you avoided the next barrage of fire breathed by the Yeckos. Remaining crouched, you took the opportunity to target one of the Fire Yeckos with your trusty VATs targeting system built into your Pep-Boy. With the Fire Yecko targeted, you lunged beneath a jet of ember as you planted your Crook Knife right into the Fire Yecko's neck. Blood squirted all over your arm, and the injured Fire Yecko made a sound somewhere between a weak cry and a gurgle of its own blood. Not finished, you removed the knife and quickly jammed it into the stomach of the Fire Yecko a few times, effectively killing it. As the roar of flames returned, you turned the Fire Yecko's corpse towards the one who was trying to roast you. You used it as a shield, but the meat was quickly roasted and the intense heat scorched your back, making you cry out in pain. You frantically tried to think of something fast before they rushed you. Wister https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mIBTg7q9oNc (Radio Rogueport Vegas) Watching the fight from beyond, the other Bandit seemed to be doing okay, but the other fire breathing lizard was probably going to cook him before long, if you didn't do anything. A good deed might help you get over the murder. With your Intimidating Revolver in hand, you ran up to the fight, trying to catch the attention of the Yeckos by jumping up and down and yelling. Taking a deep breath of uncertainty as the Yeckos turned from the blue bandit behind the corpse, you aimed the Intimidating Revolver at the monstrous things and got into what you hoped to be a threatening or fearsome pose. It only partially worked, as the small lizard was frightened enough to run away into the darkness, wailing like a stuck kitten. The fire breathing one wasn't as dissuaded, and was inhaling to prepare its next barrage of fire, right at your face. It was then that the other Bandit threw the lizard he had killed at the still alive Fire Yecko, causing it to stumble backwards and giving you both a chance to act. Within a second's time, you swore that you could trace the throwing knife as it sailed miraculously through the air and hit the Fire Yecko directly in the eye, killing it. The Bandit walked over to it, and with his other knife, gutted it for some reason. Perhaps ritualistically, or for a snack. You cringed and almost gagged as he actually reached his arm in and then pulled out what appeared to be its heart. He also went around removing some of the ones he had killed's teeth, before proceeding to cut hunks of them out and then placing it all in his bag. He then stood up, and simply looked over at you in silence. It was only then that you realized he was wearing a Vault Jumpsuit, the same kind of jumpsuit you wore. It had been hard to make out in the darkness, now covered in gore. You turned off your radio and began to talk, a bit louder than normal due to the night winds being so loud. http://www.yourepeat.com/watch?v=X0jxZc4pCuA Other Bandit: Thanks, hero, but you didn't need to do that. Wister: I figured I'd help. Other Bandit: At least you distracted them. But I wanted to kill the little green fucker. Oh well. Wister: So... dumb question, but why did you harvest the organs of that Yecko? You can't be that starving. Orin: Revenge. Plain and simple. I haven't had much of an outlet for a while, feels good actually. Name's Orin Gottfried, and I see you're from the Vault too. Wister: Oh right, you were the one Bandit who was actually thrown in prison, rather than being killed or exiled like I was. I never expected that the Piantas would let you go. My name's Wister Feltch. How long have you been outside? Orin: An hour or two maybe. I'm only out here because I heard from my cell about the recent happenings in the Vault through the grapevine. You getting exiled, and then some riled up Ninji leaving of his own volition. If people were leaving just because, then why not me? Always planned on breaking out of that dingy prison cell, but never did because I never had anywhere else to go. Figured I could possibly find something on the outside, after realizing it was an option. Wister: We can catch up later. Where were you heading before those things attacked you? Glitz's End? Orin: Building to the West. I saw that there were torches and figured I'd see what was there before I headed north to that city. "Glitz's End", was it? Looks like a fabulous hunk of junk. Just promising. Wister: Yeah. It's even less glamorous on the inside.... And that building to the West was Mushroom Express. I was just about to head there as well- Just then the sound of predators moving around in the dark somewhere caught both of your attentions. Orin: Err, how about you tell more about it as we walk there, hero. You both headed towards the building with torches, talking and keeping an eye on your surroundings. Wister: It's the building of a faction of couriers. They have a shop and trouble center inside. Take a trouble from their list, see that whatever task it requires of you is completed, and then upon your return, they'll give you a bit of coin or some other type of reward, depending on the trouble. Orin seemed to be thinking on this. A part of you hoped that he'd want to travel along with you. While he was fresh out of the Vault, he gutted that fire breathing thing with ease, might be handy to help watch your back. And a friend might help you weather the horrors that were sure to come. Though, on the other hand, you also understood why other species commonly didn't trust Bandits, and you weren't exactly eager for him to use one of those knives on you. You had little idea if he followed the old Bandit adage of not jerking around your own race. Plus, there was also the matter of him being the only Bandit the Piantas seemed to want to imprison, rather than simply kill or kick out of the Vault.... There might've been a good reason for that. Orin (keep music) You were considering your options, just as Wister was. You entertained the idea of stealing from him, he seemed to be a bit too nice for his own good. Maybe use him. Though at worst, you could probably just walk with him to this Mushroom Express place, and then part ways there. While it was true, somebody else walking with you would probably better your odds if something else attacked you, you didn't have much doubt in your abilities. Apart from Wister acting as a distraction, you had handled the Yeckos mainly on your own, and only got nicked by the flames for a moment or two. A small or minor burn that would eventually heal on its own, given time. Out of the Vault and attacked by fire breathing monsters, and you didn't even break down in the slightest. In contrast to the appearances of the surface, things were pretty auspicious. On second thought, you were even more confident about someone wanting to buy the heart. There was probably a lot of heartless people out there in the wastelands. Well, what will they do? Orin- HEALTH CHANGE: -2 HP FP CHANGE: -1 FP GAINED: 3 Fire Yecko Teeth, 1 Fire Yecko Heart, 2 Fire Yecko Meat LOST: 1 Throwing Knife use COMBAT XP GAINED: +3 XP NUMBER OF MOVES LEFT IN CYCLE: 1 Wister- FP CHANGE: -2 FP XP GAINED: +1 XP (Intimidation) NUMBER OF MOVES LEFT IN CYCLE: 1 Edited by Khan, Sep 7 2014, 11:36 PM.
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| Khan | Sep 8 2014, 07:51 AM Post #67 |
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Rip Location: Kindling (Toadtown's Region) Music: https://www.yourepeat.com/watch?v=FGyW_y0vGrs You walked back towards the Kindling gate guards, and for a few moments had yet another intense stare off with the toad again, making sucking and gnashing noises with your mouth in concentration as you struggled to not release your bowels, but the Goomba with the clearly fake beard snapped his fingers to break off the second round before it could begin. You considered vaporizing him with one special uber karate chop kick, but decided not to, in case anybody was watching your technique. TO STEAL IT. Goomberd: Go deliver that bag of meat or go back to whatever hole you were dwelling in. I don't have time for your crazy bullshit. Rip: But, Mr. Mojonesbro, if that is your REAL name, I wanted some information-- Goomberd: No, absolutely not. I am not talking to you anymore until you return after delivering that bag of dangerous dripping meat like a good... whatever you are. For a moment or two, you tried to think of a response that would coerce the Goomba into telling you what you wanted to know, even though most times even you don't really know what you want to know. So you decided instead to think of a witty comeback, but only came up with a way to play Chopin symphonies by pulling on goat tails, which was hardly helpful. Goats murdered you once. Thank the stars it didn't kill you. When nothing came to you, you quickly ran your hand through the Goomba's face fuzz and then skipped off into the night before he could shoot you like the Polish Bull Dog he was. Onward you walked into the night of the wasteland, covering your eyes with your hand so the darkness wouldn't scare you. But you quickly got spooked by a phantom hand trying to assault your orbitals, and began wrestling with it. This assailant was crafty, and seemed to be always hiding behind you, but you pile drove the arm into a pile of animal droppings. That'll teach phantom arms to grope the great Rip Cheato. With that victory solved, you headed in the direction your Rip Boy said was North. Those chocolate communists wouldn't tell you anything about your surrounding areas? Fine, you didn't need them! Strawberry was better anyway! And you would explore the area all on your own! This somewhat relieved you, as you were absolutely sure they were just more people out to get you and your goats. After all, they were good drinking buddies. This little task they gave you would be the first step in becoming the prettiest princess in the wasteland, you'd do it, and you'd do it perfectly! You're Rip goddamned Cheato, and by the end of your first month, you'll be damned if you don't become the baddest drag queen of the wasteland, and god damn any of those other bozos that thought you weren't purty. You'd beat them with your third nut, you'd make them kneel before you and play tic-tac-toe, you'd-- You immediately dropped onto the ground and screamed like a girly girl as you were certain that you heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire. It was definitely not just your kidneys exploding again, they weren't cooked yet. You uneasily and cautiously stood up again, trying to act like a cactus, when you realized that there wasn't actually any gunfire. Or at least, it wasn't in your immediate area. Surprisingly, you found that this actually managed to put a damper on your mood, were you not good enough for their bullets? Were you too fat? Not fat enough? After a few minutes or so of uneventful walking, and trying to tie your shoelaces with your mind since you didn't know how, and saw all the exciting landmarks that surrounded you. Look, there was some dirt! A few rocks were just lying around, minding their own business, until you ran up to them and kicked them. The rocks along with some dirt went flying, but they seemed to continue being oblivious of your assault on them. What chumps. That must've been worth like, 500 XP. You stopped suddenly, breathing heavily in vague arousal, and looked around at the darkened wasteland. This nightly stroll north of yours was much less eventful than the run you made from Vault R to Kindling. Maybe you should make a hat during the walk. Then again, you didn't have that clawed demon at your back, about to fry your bacon. Did you have any bacon? You missed bacon. Dumpster juice seems to lose all of its appeal after a couple of decades. You blamed the Vault R Dwellers, always pissing in your dumpster juice, ruining the consistency. The more you just stood there thinking, the more bored you became. All those years of just sitting there in your Vault, just waiting and waiting. This was your reward. Nothing but a bunch of walking around. All the other Vault Dwellers that probably got out of their own Vaults before you probably got all the action that rightfully belonged to you. The bastards. How dare they experience things. You made a mental note to spoon out their brains and eat them on crackers to give their memories to you, who rightfully deserved them. Almost immediately, you developed an intense and very real hatred and jealousy for these people you didn't even know, and couldn't possibly have known existed. You sighed, and resumed walking north. Orange: I wish I was with purple blob man right now... even HE isn't as bad as this guy... Jack: Oh, matey... yar did it now. Yar did it now? That doesn't even make sense! Have yar ever heard a pirate talk? Yar. Rip: Traitorous cur! I shall see you tried in the grand court! Siding with my greatest enemy... that is the most serious level type of treason type level there is! Augh, I'm suffocating in my own hate, just having to think of him and his fuzzy out of focus details! Jack: Will yar shut up about the purple whatsit? Have yar even gave him a chance? He can't be anywhere near as bad as yar have made him sound in the last fifty years or so. Rip: Et you, Patchy patch patch? ET YOU? No, I'll chalk this one up to your forever worsening pirate attitude. But you, Orange. I always knew you would be the one to betray me! YOU'RE WITH THEM, AREN'T YOU! THE PRONOUN DOMINION! Blisterine: Well, I think we all at some point would-- Rip: The first to betray me! I'm glad that I can see which hand the shoe is off when it comes to you all! Oh I was once blind, but now I have had a stroke! Jack: Do yar even hear yarself speak? Et yar? Which hand the shoe is off? These sayings yar using aren't even correct, yar limey bloke! Yar mind is so backwards even one of yar imaginary friends is trying to convince yar insane! Some of the others can't even do that much! Yar thought up broken and mindless friends for yarself during the years of crippling loneliness yar spent in the dumpster that should be put of their yarring misery! Stabby: I'm a sword that wants nothing more in its life to cut someone. But I am made of wood. I can't cut anyone. The most anyone can do with me, is to beat someone over the head with. Maybe give someone a splinter... Give them an infection if they don't get some tweezers.... We should destroy ALL the tweezers! Rip: All of this... insubo... insubordination! All of you shall pay dearly later... Once I find a trampoline. But for now, duty calls. While you had been busy arguing with your "traveling group," you had arrived at the house you were supposed to bring the bag of meats. The traitorous Orange and all of his fellow conspirators would have to be put down and punished later. You had to also now deal with the hurtful reminder the Orange had used against you that your adversary, that dirty rotten thing you couldn't remember correctly, who likely hadn't been shot into the sun as you have always hoped during your brief vacation in Vault R. He was probably still roaming the wastes, wearing the very crown that rightfully belonged to you! Not him! You would find him, and you would make him drink the fetid iced tea of the sacred gym sock. But first, you would have to deliver this bag of strangely delicious smelling meats. Maybe it was your strange diet habits, but you wondered if this might be a trap, for you to waste some goodies when you could eat the drippy flesh hunks yourself! It wouldn't be worse than the Denny's you used to shanghai. You took a step towards the house of twisted scrap metal and tin, only to find your foot resting on something metallic hidden in the dirt underneath of it, and now it was beeping. You knew it! Quick, time to eat the meat before the conspiracy did! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BoAkBar3DYk ???: I would move if I were you. Though, if you've came here to assassinate me, I would certainly prefer if you stood still. It'd be nice if you actually weren't an assassin though. Haven't had anybody to talk to other than old Scratchy and that cave rat... but I don't know where he got off to these days. Gave good stock advice. You had probably heard only the first six words the voice had spoken before time slowed down for you. You felt like a bunch of crackers had been broken in your pockets. The only option that there seemed to be was jumping away from the mine, that was certainly about to start beeping even louder and faster, and then the inevitable would happen. The mine would die. You needed to save it. However, for most Creeps, gravity posed to be a bit of a problem. Creeps weren't fans of gravity, and if gravity were an actual entity of some sort, it wouldn't really be fans of Creeps; you both rooted for the same football teams, but refused to be present in the same county when buying milk. Yet in almost disbelief, after decades of sitting motionless in a dumpster and doing basically nothing, you found your legs hadn't yet betrayed you like all of your other friends and as a result, you found yourself in mid-air. For about five seconds or so, you were the very rare "Flying Creep" yet to ever be photographed by living hands. In the dirt you roughly landed, and began to pray to Yami to pray to every deity to save the poor mine's life. It probably had a family, and it might let you have a threesome with its bomb wife if you saved it. You chanted and bowed, but the mine exploded and you fell over. Immediately you burst into tears and using your finger to write "RIP in peace" in the dirt. You stood back up, and dusted yourself off. Immediately forgetting what you were doing. Hey! Somebody wrote, "Rip in peace" in the dirt! Maybe you were supposed to come in peace? Can't argue with dirt goblins, they knew everything. You found that the source of the voice from earlier was a Toad. An ugly looking one at that, who seemed to be mostly covered in dirt from his worn sandals to his faded yellow dotted cap. He sort of reminded you of yourself, if you were a Toad. He even had a beard of his own, that looked far more realistic than that Goomba guard's, along with a wrinkled face and a half blind eye. You wondered if this Toad was also having similar thoughts, about you looking like him, but as a Creep. Dirty Toad: Did they send you to kill me? You wouldn't be the first assassin that they sent. I'll have you know that I have eyes all over the wasteland, sure most if not all of them can't actually see, but... Rip: No. Are YOU an assassin out to kill ME? You soiled yourself in shock. Dirty Toad: Not the last time I checked. Well, it's nice to meet you, then. The name is No-Bark Noonan. This here to the side is my friend, Scratchy. He's an old acquaintance, and while I know he may look like a rough customer, I think he's a big softy, that one. Likes to purr while drinking the blood of conspirators. It was the very same Deathchomp that you were absolutely sure that had chased you earlier, you could remember the jealous look in its eye as it looked upon your magnificent brown cloak in envy, and it now had a dead Squeek dangling from its maw, basically oozing blood. Its eyes were set on you, basically warning you that if you even tried to hurt its master, Scratch would probably see that you would find yourself in about a thousand meaty bits in a few worlds over. This wasn't the time for any planet hopping though, so you politely shook Scratchy's hand, which Scratchy politely returned. But what was this tin foil hat wearing psycho talking about? A conspiracy? Assassins? He was clearly crazy. Too crazy to be hanging around you for long, that's for sure. You didn't want him to make you crazy too. That would be bad. You would lose sight of what really matters in life: which was finding Princess Peach and turning her into a bag of cake mix for messing with your precious mapkin. YOU HADN'T FORGOTTEN. After you finished soiling yourself again, you pondered how to respond. You soiled yourself again stage fright. Well, what will you do? NUMBER OF MOVES LEFT IN CYCLE: -- LOCATION DISCOVERED: Madman's Abode +2 XP NOTES/RUMORS ADDED
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| Khan | Sep 8 2014, 07:51 AM Post #68 |
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Jake and Sammy Location: Mario's Town (Toadtown's Region) Music: https://www.yourepeat.com/watch?v=bP9lsAS-eyM Jake Jake: You barbarous lot will regret the day that you attacked the great Jake Robins, and his samurai side kick! Have at thee! if it was a fight they wanted, a fight they shall get. You weren't going to die here. Not yet. You refused. Hopefully they heard your taunt. Sammy stood next to you muttering to himself wildly and making weird hand motions beside the mutilated, putrid scavenger corpse, you hoped that this situation wouldn't cause him to snap again or make him catatonic. When you heard the gunfire sounds momentarily stop for them to reload, you peered over the overturned refrigerator with your Squeek Rifle and fired twice at the approaching figures in the dark. You couldn't tell if you hit them due to all the dust, darkness, and wind, but even still, it probably would suppress them. More gunfire peppered and pinged off the fridge as Sammy tapped you on the shoulder. Jake: What? I'm kind of busy saving us here. Sammy: Jake, my Master and I have come up with a plan. I'll need your tennis racket, that fancy outfit, and for you to buy us some time. You weren't sure of this kid's planning skills under pressure, but he did do well during the scavenging earlier, and it's not like you had anything special in mind, so you handed Sammy the stuff and pressed your back to the fridge again, hoping that whatever crazy stuff he was planning would work. Jake: Don't get us killed, mate. I'm counting on you. You could hear footsteps approaching your position, they were getting closer. The bullets stopped pinging against the fridge again, so you popped out and fired three times towards the closing Marauders, hearing a cry out in pain and the sounds of bullets striking metal. The group was only a few meters away now. You ducked down just in time for a throwing spear to sail over your head and strike the ground behind the fridge. Jake: Sammy?! Are you almost done? They're getting a bit too close for comfort! You looked at Sammy and saw him finish putting the business attire on the stick pony, and plop the head of the scavenger's carcass on the end of the pole like some obscene religious icon. You thought he completely lost it, before he began to speak. Sammy: Alright, on my mark, get ready to run into the house behind us. I'll cover us. You nodded at Sammy, heart racing and battle fever taking over your mind. You braced your legs and got ready to run. Sammy You readied the racket and held out your hand to Jake with three fingers extended. Two. One. You tapped Jake on the shoulder just as you brought the decoy into view of the Marauders. Jake began crouch running behind you, and you spun out from behind the fridge and served the baseball at the closest Marauder Toad wielding the spears, hitting him in the face and knocking him over. The other Toad bent down to pick him up as the Clubba leader ordered the two remaining Goombas to charge, one lagging behind with a limp. You then ran backwards towards the house, holding a Pre-War book in front of you as bullets shot all around. By the time you entered the house and closed the door behind you, you saw that the Pre-War book, a huge hardback copy of some philosophy book, had three bullets lodged in it. You tossed the book away and drew your mighty katana, striking a battle pose as you crouched behind the wall, next to the front door. Jake stood in the back in the little nook between two bookcases that had "Nightshade"'s terminal, scarfing down some beans and eating corn as fast as he could. This was the house with the mold in it, you would have to be careful to avoid it. The Master: Prepare yourself, apprentice. They're coming towards you right now. Sammy: We are ready for them. You could hear the Clubba outside scream at his troops to storm the house, and a half second later the door opened. You let loose a menacing battle cry and charged at the Toad with your katana. Your Master was also screaming inside your head in unison. Jake Jake: Take this, ya buggers! The other Toad had jumped through one of the windows on the side of the building, and across the other side, one of the Goombas did as well. You fired your Squeek Rifle at the Goomba, hitting him square in the face with a critical hit and causing gore to go flying across the floor. You tried to duck behind the bookcases again, but got hit in the leg with a throwing spear. You screamed out in pain as blood ran down your leg, but drew your cutlass as you vigorously panted, limping over to the Toad and dislodging the spear with your sword. Sammy had engaged both the Toad and the Goomba that emerged through the front door. He had leaped upon the Goomba and was biting and clawing away at his head, running the squeaky toy through the grunt's eye as the Goomba flailed blindly about, adding his screams with Sammy's. You saw Sammy get shot by the Toad with the .32 and go sprawling, before you yourself began wrestling with the Toad that speared your leg. Jake: Take this! And this! And a few of these for your sister! You sliced with your Cutlass at the Toad, striking his armor with pings and gashing his torso with pain, before clashing your sword in a lock with one of the spear's shafts. You then kicked the Toad in the groin, causing him to give just enough for you to hit him with the hilt of your cutlass, knocking him backwards into the book case. The Toad panicked and began wildly jabbing with the spear in your direction, hitting you in the abdomen before you could deflect the spear with your Cutlass and then slice his head off. A fountain of blood shot across your back as you turned back towards Sammy. Jake: Come on! Who's next? I'll take all you dogs on! Sammy was wrestling with the Toad that had the revolver, getting hit in the face with the gun's butt before knocking the pistol out of the Toad's hands using the squeaky katana. The Toad looked on in horror as Sammy screamed again, and began biting and clawing at the Toad's neck and face. Marauder Toad: No! No! Please! Stars no! You felt slightly sick watching it, Sammy was a monster with his blows. Covered in gore, and bleeding from the bullet wound, he didn't seem like he saw any of it. You were bleeding pretty bad yourself, but didn't want to get in Sammy's way trying to help him, you were even scared to. The Samurai Guy was knocked off the Toad by his manic kicks as he tried to get away, but Sammy just began wrestling with him again, causing the Toad to fall into a patch of the mold with Sammy on top of him. The Toad let loose the most horrifying gurgling sound you ever heard in your life as a huge hiss was let out by the mold, dissolving the Toad's fleshy parts quickly and without mercy. Sammy jumped off him with a start and muttered to himself as he watched the guy melt with curiosity. That was when you saw the leader walk in through the back and approach Sammy. Jake: Sammy! Watch out! Sammy turned around and was met with a club to the mask. He went flying. Sammy https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4U_980zae0M The Master: Oh, shit. Life was a blur in slow motion as you left the ground and slowly went towards the wall. You saw Jake shout something, and draw his Cutlass while clutching his stomach, beckoning the Clubba leader towards him, who seemed to laugh and tap his club in his hand. You then hit the wall and felt dizzy as you slowly began to get up. Things were a bit blurry and still seemed to be moving slow as you reached in your pocket for your Dusty Hammer. You threw it at the Clubba leader, who just tried to hit Jake too but missed as the pirate toad stumbled away. It made contact with the back of his neck, causing him to stagger in his heavy armor just as the world shifted more back into focus. [end sound effect] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cWo__6Xn6Qs The Master: Now's your chance! Go now! Sammy: Mushido! You grabbed you katana in both hands and leaped forward at the Clubba, striking him and knocking a piece of his armor off his arm. You then began rapidly striking him wherever you could, panting before getting elbowed in the face with a metal plated arm. Clubba Marauder: Get the fuck off me, worm! You saw Jake then pull out his Hand Cannon from earlier, a twinkle in his eye and an angry grin on his face. Jake You pulled out your Hand Cannon in a Quick Draw, smiling in malice from the Clubba's flank as he was occupied with Sammy leaping on him, elbowing him off. You pulled the trigger when your companion was clear and an ear-eviscerating boom roared through the building. The Clubba was brought to his knees instantly in a cloud of smoke and lead from your faithful weapon. You walked up to the Clubba and drew your Cutlass. Your voice was a bit shaky and uneven. Jake: Oh, a very good fight, mate. Very good. But you forgot one very important thing. Clubba Marauder: Fugh, yeu! You put the Cutlass to the Clubba's dazed neck, who spat at you. Jake: I'm Jake Robins, savvy? Remember that. In one clean cut, you cut halfway through the Clubba's meaty neck, causing his head to hang on halfway as a pool of blood drenched down on the ground. You then fell backwards on your ass and breathed deeply several times, clutching your fresh wounds. Sammy hit the corpse of the Clubba a few times with his katana and muttered to himself. Squeak. Squeak. Jake: Bloody hell. Are you holdin' up okay, Sammy? Sammy was soaked in blood and flesh fragments, his mask was chipped a bit from the Clubba's blows, and of course there was the gunshot wound in his stomach he seemed to be ignoring. Sammy: Jake? Jake: Yar? Sammy sheathed his sword and cocked his head at you inquisitively. Sammy: Why did you say "remember that", if we killed them? You slapped your palm on your face and chuckled slightly, the laugh hurting your wounds. https://www.yourepeat.com/watch?v=0gtg_Eveb28 Jake: Just... Don't worry about it, mate. Now let's- Your thoughts were interrupted as you both turned towards a dark green Pianta in a dark grey suit at the front door. He seemed to be wearing a wolf's pelt cowl and clutching a black two-handed gun. Sammy muttered to himself and put his hand to his katana, wary. You unsteadily got up and felt uncertain. Hopefully this guy wouldn't try to kill you too. You barely made it through that last one. The Pianta surveyed the scene silently, walking up to the corpse with the throwing spears and kicking it. He then turned and looked in your direction. Sammy The Master: I don't like the looks of this one. Be mindful and cautious. He seems very powerful. Sammy: I can feel it. But he doesn't seem hostile. The Master: Hostility is not always apparent as it seems, apprentice. Sammy: Like with Jake... The Pianta stowed his weapon and walked towards you both, sticking his hand out to shake, first to Jake and then to you. The hand was colder than it should've been from the night. Cowled Pianta: You two did fine work. I was expecting to find you in much more dire straits. Jake: Find us? Who even are you? The Pianta frowned. Cowled Pianta: You may call me "The Wolf". Beyond that, I won't say. What are you doing here? I observed the Marauders ambushing some hapless scavengers and decided to lend a hand.... Or so I thought. Until I saw your Vault Jumpsuits, and these corpses. Sammy: We were searching for something a scavenger from the city was sent to find here, but they must have taken it. The dishonorable cads. "The Wolf" noticed the "Nightshade" terminal and walked over to it, clicking over some files and reading without a word. Jake looked at you worried and mouthed for you to "stay cool". You found that odd, since you had no choice in the matter in the night time chill. "The Wolf": Very interesting. Jake: Why? Sammy: Really? Please, tell us then. The Pianta walked over close to the Toad's corpse that had turned into amorphous sludge in the mold, and looked at it. "The Wolf": I'll tell you later, if you need to know. But right now, do you want to do me a favor? I reward well. The Pianta looked to the side and noticed a one eyed Goomba Sammy had almost blinded earlier trying to crawl away and out the back door. He walked calmly over to the injured Goomba and pulled out his gun, pointing it at the defeated Marauder's head. The Goomba started weeping and convulsing, but "The Wolf" pulled the trigger on his weapon, firing a black laser beam at the Marauder, executing him without hesitation, before turning back to them. Jake: What kind of favor are we talking about then, mate? "The Wolf": There's a guy in Kindling, wearing a red beret. I need you to give him a holotape and an envelope. Just do that, and meet me outside Mushroom Pass tomorrow for your reward. It's easy, and the least you could do for my troubles in taking out the Marauder reinforcements trying to ambush you. So what do you say? The Master: Hmmm... A simple delivery? In my experience, simple deliveries are scarcely so simple. But a reward would be nice. Perhaps, we should take the offer, and proceed with caution. Jake looked over to you and you looked back at him, you both looked uncertain about how to proceed exactly. You would certainly have to spend the night here patching up your wounds, but tomorrow when you returned to Kindling, there was no guarantee they would let you in at all. The scavenger was stripped clean. Still, it was worth a try. Perhaps a reward would be very helpful for the long road ahead. This Pianta had a certain, uneasy air about him though... You eyed the metal armor on the Clubba's corpse and made a note to loot the bodies before leaving. Well, what will they do? Jake- NET HP CHANGE: +1 HP FP CHANGE: -3 FP RADIATION CHANGE: Low LOST: Oink N' Beans, Irradiated Maize, 10 Ammo. INVENTORY CHANGE: Cutlass has gone down one condition level- low condition COMBAT XP GAINED: +7 XP STATUS CONDITION: Moderate Bleeding (-1 HP every update until treated somehow) LEVEL UP: Level 2- Novice Wastelander; pick one available perk and choose to upgrade HP, FP, or BP. QUEST UPDATE: |
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| Khan | Sep 8 2014, 07:52 AM Post #69 |
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Orin and Wister Location: The Wasteland (Rogueport's Region) Music: https://www.yourepeat.com/watch?v=4fjM9pKeEGw Orin You and Wister continued your walk towards the dual torches outside the Mushroom Express building. While you were iffy on trusting the other Bandit, let alone actually traveling with him, it seemed pretty pointless not to at least walk with him considering you two were both heading to the same place. While you had the situation handled on your own, Wister did help you out a bit. For a moment or two, you fell back into your pattern of thinking and considered stealing from him again, but realized that too would be pointless, considering he was a fellow Bandit and thus probably knew quite a few of your tricks. You would walk with him at least to Mushroom Express, and throughout, you would try to get some much needed information about the wasteland from him. You had spent a lot of your life in that damned Vault prison cell, but you were sure there was some unwritten rule out there about Bandits having to share at least one or two free tips with their brethren, right? While you loathed to admit it, you hadn't amassed the fortune in stolen wealth you were obsessed with while stuck in the Vault. Greed indeed may be a bit of a vice, but it probably was one of your favorites. Better to want and try to steal everything rather than aim low and end up with nothing at all. Orin: So, this Mushroom Express place... do these Couriers happen to carry or deliver anything valuable? Or do they ferry different assortments of ash everywhere expecting tips? It wouldn't surprise me. Wister: You'd better cool your jets, man. Or at least learn a little bit about subtlety. Sure, it seems like theft is a bit more of a hobby nowadays up here, but if people catch you stealing their things, they're gonna shoot you. Or maybe bash your brains in. I'm relatively new to the wasteland as well, but I haven't ran into too many friendly wastelanders, or... at least, not ones without a weapon close to them. As for the Couriers... who knows? You never know what someone may pay another to carry and deliver. Orin: Are they well arm-- Wister: I would think someone who makes their living by traveling through this hellhole of a wasteland carrying goods may be a bit on guard, if that's what you're asking. If you want to go into raiding, you can... hell, Glitz's End seems to be run by those types. But, you should know that's a dangerous life. I learned that myself a bit earlier... Orin: So what, it's a choice of either being the one who takes and might get shot, or the one who is stolen from and still might get shot? That seems like a pretty easy choice. Wister: You would think so, but I don't think it's quite that simple. Orin: Have you been to the city? What's it like? Wister: Honestly? It's a shithole. But I'll let you be the judge of that. It's the only real community nearby that I've found so far, excluding the camp of Ghouls I passed by earlier today. Orin: Yeah, I passed by those guys earlier. They looked fuckin' nightmarish. With nothing valuable. Somebody should just put them out of their misery. Wister: If they want to go on living the way they are, that's not my concern. And I've heard radiation has a tendency of doing that to you. We're a bit lucky in that regard, considering these things on our wrists have a geiger counter. Much more protection than the common wastelander has. Must be our lucky night... we're here, and we didn't even get attacked by anything else. For a supposed "business" of Couriers, the building didn't look like much. A lone desolated looking pre-war building with a few torches, and a single lone Squeek guard posted outside, garbed in scrap armor, a bandana, and wielding a crossbow with an axe on his back. How were you going to make a killing off of these people if everyone was this pathetic? You can't really steal anything if your marks don't have anything. Not for the first time tonight, you felt another touch of despair widen the gap hanging between you and your ultimate goal. You mentally sighed, theft wasn't going to be so easy. You two approached the door of Mushroom Express, only receiving a mere shifty look from the Squeek guard, who seemed to be not having too great of a night. Or at least, that was what you could tell from the way he kept cringing at the nearby corpse of a dead and much more feral looking two headed Squeek that seemed to already have chunks missing from it (likely claimed by whoever killed it) along with a knife deeply implanted into one of its heads. You almost gagged at the stink of it, along with the perpetual buzzing noises the flies that had already gathered around it were making. As Wister was about to open the door of Mushroom Express and walk in, a Toad walked out and past Wister. You two stopped as this Toad with a lute on his back approached the Squeek guard. Bard Toad: It's almost morning, your shift's over. Get out of my spot. Squeek Guard: Did you or did you not hear what you yourself just said, Rast? It's "almost" morning. I have the night shift, thus, until that sun is in that sky, I'm not moving. Are you that eager to stand out here in the drawers? Rast: Don't even start getting uppity with me, Gustavo. You rats, you're all the same. Rude, the lot of you are smart asses, and because you think your kind is almost extinct, you think you're supposed to be granted some kind of special treatment from everyone else. You, and that thing I killed earlier over there? You're both the same, only difference is the number of heads. Just a bunch of rats. Gustavo: You know what? You can have my spot, you racist prick. But I'm letting Paul and Slade know about this. Rast: You go ahead and do that, my ratty friend. Fuck... Gustavo stormed past you and Wister into Mushroom Express, as Rast leaned against where Gustavo had been standing, already with his terrible looking lute in his hands. You and Wister turned to go into the building, finally unimpeded. Rast: Hey, Wister. Can I talk to you out here for a moment? Wister turned his head and looked at Rast and then looked back towards you. Wister: Go ahead and go on in. I'll follow you in a second. With some reluctance, you entered the building, only to find that you would have to wait until the incited Gustavo finished ranting to both Paul and Slade about Rast's behavior anyhow. Wister https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nP1Y9KY4-Cg (Radio Rogueport Vegas) You sort of wanted to go in at the same time as Orin did and show him around Mushroom Express, but you were sort of curious about what Rast wanted and why he was acting this way when he seemed rather calmhearted only a couple of hours ago. Although, if Rast's insults towards Gustavo hadn't been enough to prove that he had a grudge against Squeeks, the brutally killed two headed one only a few feet away was. Rast: I noticed that you found a friend, or at the very least, an acquaintance. While we're still relatively strangers to one another, I wanted to warn you about the way this wasteland works. See, you might think from that display you just witnessed, I have a bit of a problem against Squeeks, or perhaps take the stereotypes that are set against Squeeks a bit to true to heart. Sure, not all Squeeks are rodents just as not all Bandits are thieves. But for a stereotype to be born, there has to be something that fueled its creation. I knew a Squeek a long time ago, and to be honest, he was one of my closest friends, a fellow musician as I am... perhaps even admittedly a better one. We actually had a few others with us, also musicians... together, we were actually a diamond in the rough. We traveled a lot, and eventually, our travels took us unfortunately, through the southeast... that's Sons land. They didn't care much for a group of traveling musicians... especially, one that was carrying certain items the Sons frown upon. They ambushed us, killed a couple of us, and caught just me and my Squeek friend. They found his drugs, and before I knew it, he was speedily telling them that they were actually mine. They planned to crucify me, but I escaped. I came here and my traveling days came to an end... but I know that bastard's still breathing, safe and alive in Sons territory, laughing his ass off about the whole thing. Wister: How do you know the Sons didn't kill him? Rast: They talked to him a bit further after he threw me to the wolves... crucifying a Toad rather than a Squeek, that was a good deal for all parties involved. Except the Toad, of course. Plus, I've heard rumors of a Squeek musician, still very much alive down in that area... while a lot of Couriers have a bit more trouble when they take jobs involving that specific slice of this irradiated heaven we call the wasteland, they do come back with all sorts of useful information they don't mind sharing with the useless bard sitting outside. My point in telling you all of this is, even if that friend of yours may also be from the Vault... keep an eye on him, if you choose to continue traveling with him. The wasteland has a way of changing people, even with them not even realizing that it's changing them. I don't know what happened in Glitz's End, but there's something present in your eyes that wasn't there before earlier today when you came here. A friend can be a great thing in this fucked up world of ours nowadays... but if that friend isn't really your friend at all, well... you might be left to hang. Either at the end of a rope, or at the top of a wooden cross. Wister: ...What would you do, if you ever met that Squeek again? Rast: I'll leave that to your own imagination. But... you know, if you do find yourself down in that godforsaken area... and you see a Squeek that goes by the name Lorn... you'd do me a huge favor that I very well may reward if you made that sonuvabitch pay. You don't have to necessarily kill him but... well, if he's stayed the same since I knew him, he'll likely have quite some dirty dealings that the Sons of Bowser don't know about. Obtain evidence of that and give them to the Sons without him knowing... well, he'll probably end up where they were gonna put me. On a cross on the road leading to Blood Knot... That would seem quite a bit dangerous, but you would keep it in mind. You simply nodded to Rast and turned to go inside. Rast: Whatever you do though, remember. In the wasteland, you'll find that you might not even be able to trust yourself. More than a couple of the more successful and known raiders started out as pure souls themselves... An image flashed in your mind of a bloodied glass shard and of that damned alley. You shook it off, and then entered Mushroom Express. Location: Mushroom Express (interior; Rogueport's Region) Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eiRofjVA2yA (Radio Rogueport Vegas) By the time you entered, Gustavo had finally finished his rant about Rast to both Paul and Slade. Paul: Rast is beginning to become a bit of a problem... I know he's been here longer than Gustavo, but if he keeps this up-- Slade: I wouldn't worry too much about it. Rast's feelings against all Squeeks aside, Gustavo's actually been stealing from us. Paul: Really? Huh. I assume you're handling it personally, then? Slade: Oh, of course. Gustavo will find that he'll have quite a sizable bill whenever a suitable replacement arrives. After all, it'll do us no good to get rid of our night guard without someone to fill the gap immediately... and between the fact I know about his little thefts and with how much Rast distrusts him... he'll be suitably watched. Until then, he'll find that his wages have been severely lowered. Coincidentally, about how much to cover what he's stolen from us. Paul: Have I ever told you how much I appreciate our little partnership we have running here? Slade: You don't have to. Without me, you wouldn't even have this business. Paul: Fair enough point. Their conversation appearing to be over, you approached the counter with Orin and introduced Slade and Paul to Orin, and Orin to them. Slade: Another Vault Dweller that's a Bandit? Your type's quite numerous, aren't they? But if you're as useful as Wister here, I'm sure you'll fit in just nicely. Of course, Wister's only useful if he's came here to report his success with the Trouble he's taken. Paul: Which you are going to do, right Wister? You still really hadn't gotten over your deep dislike of any and all Piantas, so you eagerly leapt at the chance to actually prove wrong a Pianta. Thus, without even saying a word, you retrieved and placed Howard's ring on the counter. Slade picked it up and surveyed it closely, checking for Howard's name. Slade: Yeah, yeah... but you couldn't just retrieve the original package he wrongfully sold off, could you? Paul: Ease off, Slade. Like two seconds after the kid walked out, you were saying he probably wouldn't even get the ring from him. Slade: Here's your reward. Don't let it go to your head, though. Everybody gets lucky at least once. Except for Howard, you grimly thought to yourself as you pocketed the sack of coins Slade handed you. Paul took the ring behind the counter and stamped a paper before depositing them in a file cabinet. Paul: And you know those "Courier Papers" we gave you. Well, now as an official employee of us, you can permanently enter or leave Glitz's End whenever you want now. Those papers are yours to keep. Wister: Thanks. I also need to make a purchase... Slade: Sure, sure... not like I'm going to complain about you immediately giving back your payment. Just go back to the store room with me, and we'll get this taken care of. Orin https://www.yourepeat.com/watch?v=rS7p8Pc8Elg You simply stood around as Wister talked with Paul and Slade, fiddling with your Pep-Boy radio and eavesdropping on their conversation for anything actually interesting. The measures Slade had taken in response to the thieving Gustavo caught your ear. It wasn't the same as getting shot in the face, but basically working for nothing and then being given a bill later on? You made a mental note to yourself to not steal from accountants if you could help it. Or Piantas, for that matter. You were considering taking a trouble... it wasn't theft, but Wister had done it, and he seemed to have been rewarded far more than you've obtained in the short amount of time you've been on the surface. Really though, people should make their stuff easier to steal. It was like being a good neighbor, in a way. Paul: Did you want to take a Trouble, Orin was it? Might as well while you're here. Orin: I'll think about it, let me look over the list maybe. Paul: Whatever. I'm just saying, there's good money in it if you're a good worker and don't try to jerk us around. Otherwise, Postal might have to deal in some aggressive negotiations. Paul nodded behind you in a corner of the building towards a Mr. Gutsy robot armed to the teeth in Mushroom Express colors. Yeah, they really could not be so theft averse in these dumps out here... Turning back to your own matters, you turned the dial on the radio to Toadtown News Network randomly our of boredom and began to listen in to some music. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2En0ZyjQgU4 (Toadtown News Network) At least it was better than whatever it was Rast played. Wister https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jQmi4k_Uz9w You followed Slade back to his office in the back and watched him go behind the counter and lock the iron bar gate behind him. He went back and grabbed you a Donkey Lamp and a Butcher Knife before returning to the counter window. Slade: Don't tell me you misplaced your earnings already. Wister: Nah, I got 'em right here. You handed Slade 16 coins, and he handed you your glorious Donkey Lamp and Butcher Knife. You took the Items and considered them in your pocket as you took a few steps away to think on what to do next. Well, what will they do? Wister- Shop Transcation GAINED: 4 Coins, Donkey Lamp, Butcher Knife. LOST: Howard's Ring, 16 Coins. QUEST COMPLETE QUEST XP GAINED: +6 XP NOTES/RUMORS ADDED NUMBER OF MOVES LEFT IN CYCLE: -- Orin- NOTES/RUMORS ADDED NUMBER OF MOVES LEFT IN CYCLE: -- |
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| Khan | Sep 11 2014, 06:46 PM Post #70 |
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Trubba Location: Koopolis (Commons; Bowser's Region) Music: http://youtu.be/jQmi4k_Uz9w You didn't really want to haggle with Gupo. You weren't sure you knew how to correctly, and it just didn't seem like your thing. If assholes like that guard Sholl at the front gate thought you were dumb because of it, then you didn't care. Trubba: Nah, I'll pass on the haggling, but let me look at your wares, Gupo. Gupo hopped in delight, his fez tipping with the motion and almost falling off as he took down boxes and bags from his Warthog Oink for you to browse. Gupo: Yes, yes, my Clubba friend, please look. Buy even! Hmmm... Amid the junk and the items you just sold Gupo, two things caught your eye: a holotape, and a faded page torn out of some hokey Pre-War Tour Guide. The page looked to be about Dry Dry Desert, hm.... You picked out both and brought them to Gupo. Trubba: How much for these? Gupo: Ooh, fine choices. Well, for both the page and the holotape, no less than 12 Coins. A fair bargain, hm? Trubba: Works for me. Thanks, Gupo. Shop Transaction You handed Gupo twelve of your hard earned Coins and stored your new loot in your Pep-Boy for later examination. Gupo: I got that Holotape off a dead scavenger that tried to attack my caravan and underestimated how good I am with a machete. Hoho, a great mistake. Mentions something about dead solider ghosts to the North. Spooky, yes? Gupo is not sure on the details though, he only listened to it once or twice. Trubba: What about the page? Gupo scratched his mousy chin for a few seconds before snapping his fingers. Gupo: Ah yes, that page. In a drawer in an old train station somewhere. Very useful in my travels, but Gupo no longer needs it. Trubba: Well I'll see you around, Gupo. That's all for this time. Gupo: Thank you, come again! Being a pawn broker in the wastes didn't seem like it was boring at least. You turned and walked away from Gupo, looking at your remaining Coins. You still had quite a few left, maybe it was worth buying something else from another store. Walking through the stalls and caravans, you came upon a stall with a tent behind it called "Loomy Bin". Behind the counter was a tired looking female Toad with a black cap that had blue dots on, along with a younger looking female Koopa with a green shell and an army helmet on. The latter was folding clothes and sewing up patches, while the former was organizing materials up front. They noticed you coming and tried to put on happy faces. Trubba: Hello there, I'd like to see your wares. Female Toad: Hey. Welcome to the Loomy Bin, where our prices are so efficient, it's crazy. Helmet Koopa: It really is crazy, considering how much work it is to sew all this shit together. Female Toad: It's just the way things are. I'm Brevi T., and that chamberpot of laughs over there is Kelly. Anyway, wares, right. Coming up. Kelly brought out neatly folded up stacks of woven goods for you to look through, and you immediately knew what you wanted when you saw that flag cape. Didn't Stompadompolus say that Mario used to wear a cape? One could be very useful to wear when traveling. Trubba: How much for the cape? It looks pretty well made. Brevi T.: Aww, thanks. Morton had us make those special for the battalion here as part of our arrangement. Still, I think the details could use some work, and- Kelly: Don't bore him with all that shit. It's 40 Coins. Brevi T. sighed and turned towards Kelly, smacking her on her helmet with a sewing basket. Brevi T.: Do you have to do that every time? I was trying to make a pitch. Kelly: We don't even know if he has that kind of money, he could just be a deadbeat. Save your breath. Brevi T.: How about I stick to selling, and you stick to sewing, okay? Kelly looked like she was going to retort with more sass, so you quickly produced your Coins before their bickering could continue. You poured the Coins onto the table, much to Kelly's surprise. Shop Transaction The stall owners looked hungrily at the Coins you gave them as they handed you the silky smooth fabric of the black and red cape. You immediately put it on and felt much more nimble. Trubba: This thing is neat. Brevi T.: Oh look, the guy you called a "deadbeat" likes your handiwork, Kelly. Say thanks to the nice man, so he'll come back and we can continue to eat. Kelly: Thanks for having good taste. Trubba: Alright, well, I'll see you ladies later. http://www.yourepeat.com/watch?v=_mu3_WkcJz8 You strutted towards your next objective in your awesome new cape. Walking a bit faster than normal with seemingly no effort on the cobblestone streetways towards the giant scrap wall that you could only assume housed the Slave Pens. Sons personnel seemed to be less fidgety around you once they saw the Bowser symbols on your jumpsuit and on your cape. One passing Koopatrol even gave you a pat on the back as he passed you, and a Clubba on your left a salute. Now if only you could get rid of that wretched music and turn down those blinding streetlights. The Sons were still iffy in your mind on what you should think of them, and what your future plans were. They did seem like a stable civilization that did some things right, but on the other they were brutal slave-holding militarists. You felt bad for the slaves inside the pens you were heading towards, but knew there was nothing you could do for them right now. You reached the scrap wall after a few minutes and saw a small stone-scrap barracks in front of it, along with four or five guards along the perimeter of the wall itself, and two more guards in front of the barracks. Glummer, Gloomry's brother, was probably the Gloomba guard hanging out near the side of the pens. There only seemed to be only one Gloomba here after all. You walked up to the Gloomba, who was wearing a Metal spiked Sons helmet but only leather armor. He seemed to mostly have grenades and dynamite on him, aside from a Scimitar. Trubba: Are you Gloomry's Brother, Glummer? Glummer: Oh, my brother sent you, did he? Alright. If he thinks you're cool, then that's good enough for me. Trubba: Just like that? That seems awfully trusting for the wasteland. Glummer shook his head and looked pretty solemn. Glummer: My brother and I look out for each other. Through some pretty bad times too. Kept each other alive when there was no hope for anything coming in to save us. At least until the Sons took us in. Trubba: So, the Sons helped you? Glummer: Yeah, they gave us jobs, food, a roof over our head. Taught us how to survive, gave us discipline. We wouldn't still be here without them, we owe them everything. It's just that, well... I personally am not a fan of the whole slavery thing, but I don't really want to set any of the slaves loose. Just... maybe give them a little extra rations every now and again, you know? There was a Shy Guy in there earlier who was just brought in by Patches and Lurch, he freaked out and was executed through his collar. And the young Yoshi who was dragged away. Glummer cringed a bit and then looked serious again. Glummer: It's just something you never get used to. But I just look at all the good they've done for trade and for civilizing the East, and think that one day they might not need to do it anymore. That is, if we win. Trubba: Why don't you do something to help the slaves then? Glummer looked down at his feet. Glummer: Well, sometimes, I give them a bit of extra rations when the rest of the guards are away with my brother. Especially that old Toad that's in there, since he seems to look out for the rest of them. You can help me with that if you want, but you'll have to distract the rest of the guards for a few minutes while I slip rations into the window slits, since my brother is on gate duty now instead of here with me. You better be serious though, since if I get caught doing that, they're throwing me in The Hole, or killing me on the spot. Trubba: Hmm... Well, let me think about it, since I also have to go talk to Morton. But what else can you tell me about the city? Why are they playing that music all the time? Glummer: Oh yeah, that. I forgot it was even there. After you hear it long enough, it fades into the background like it isn't even there. I think it's meant to help keep newcomers and foreigners in line while they're here, and to keep everybody focused on their duties. I think I've woken up a few times from sleep to hear a different song playing for a few minutes at a time, but mostly it's the same song constantly until announcement time. Glummer chuckled and turned to loom towards the huge columned building. Glummer: As for the city, that over there is the Seat of Power, where the brass and Morton, our battalion commander, conduct their business. You can only go in unless you are a certain rank or have direct business. I've only been in there once, it was like a palace. Oh, and the women and children live there as well, kept in the safest part of the city in case we get attacked. They're not really allowed to be near the rest of us. The Gloomba then turned towards a small collection of scrap walls near the Seat of Power on the far side. Glummer: That over there is the sparring arena, where Sons troops train and practice their fighting skills. Mostly it's just hand-to-hand or honor fights, but you can fight with weapons or to the death on special occasions. It's a good way to gain prestige and items, but I've never been good at it. Gloombas lack formidable arms, you know, hehe. Nearby the sparring arena is The Hole, which is a collection of seven foot deep pits with sewage and insects in them that legionnaires get put into for disciplinary purposes. It's horrible, stay away. He continued his explanation as you took it all in, turning to the collection of buildings near the front and in the middle of the city. Glummer: And lastly, as I'm sure you know, that area in there is the Commons. That's where the bulk of the legionnaires live in barracks and tents, along with merchants for us to spend our loot on, the armory, the trouble center, and other things. It's the busiest place here, but we keep a tight leash on everybody. Not that that's a problem usually, due to the aforementioned discipline. Glummer nodded, and then opened his eyes in a start. Glummer: Oh wait, there's here too. The Slave Pens. Here are the slaves, a giant wall, a small office where our resident Pianta whip cracker keeps our records and any confiscated personal effects from the slaves inside. That was a lot of information. There certainly was a wealth of things to do. You could go exploring, help Glummer, leave, or go see Morton. Decisions, decisions. Trubba: Hey, I appreciate the info. Glummer extended you a hand and you shook it. Glummer: Anytime. I'm not picky on who I hang out with, unlike some of the others around here, namely the Koopas, and Clubbas. Us here on the bottom of the food chain have to look out for each other. I'm sure my brother said the same thing. You need friends in a place like this, it's a hard but fulfilling life. Let me know if you want to help me with that task I mentioned. You walked a few steps away to consider your options. It would be morning soon, you might only have time to do one more thing tonight. You noticed that there was another Koopatrol standing near the Slave Pens office, apparently thinking about something. Well, what will you do? GAINED: Koopolis Flag Cape, Pre-War Tourist Guide Page #4 (Dry Dry Outpost) (Quest Item), Mysterious Holotape (Quest Item). LOST: 52 Coins. NOTES/RUMORS ADDED NUMBER OF MOVES LEFT IN CYCLE: -- Edited by Khan, Sep 12 2014, 07:40 AM.
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7:58 AM Jul 11