[Forum Game] Fallout Realism: II

[Plutonium95]

My Peace I Give You​

Sometimes Daniel thought that Luke Pratt was put on this earth solely to make things difficult.

He had been made an Apostle of the Church by Prophet Rigdon some five years ago, around the same time Joshua Graham was crusading against the tribes of southern Utah. A tall, lanky man in his late forties, he had a powerful intellect and a scornful manner, and he lived in a permanent state of righteous indignation. Before he became an Apostle he was a priest, ministering to a congregation down in Spanish Fork. Most of his sermons were focused on God’s anger at tribes like the White Legs and the Legion, and that the New Canaanites must serve as instruments of the Lord’s vengeance. He labeled their actions as insults to God that demanded correction, and during Graham’s trial he spoke in favor of the Crusade that had been carried out in the south.

Characteristically, he had disagreed vehemently with Daniel’s decision to travel to Zion. “Of course the journey to Zion was a failure,” he said this morning, when Daniel had gathered the quorum of twelve to discuss what had happened. “They suppress the true word of God because of the actions taken against Graham. Romans 1:18, ‘For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth.’” He looked around at the others, his head high and his dark eyes blazing with pride, and he let his gaze rest finally on Daniel. “But we cannot expect God to do all the work. We are the right hand of the Lord and we must carry out his will, first against the tribes in the south, then against the slavers in Caesar’s Legion,” he finished.

It was very sad that Luke should be like this, Daniel thought. The man was dedicated to God’s work, that much was clear, and he had a fine mind and a great strength of purpose. But he seemed to have a compelling need to feel special and be noticed, something that drove him to create scenes. He was a nuisance, to put it simply, but Daniel loved him as much as any of God’s children, for Daniel could see, behind the arrogance and anger, stirred a troubled soul who feared for his own place in heaven.

“’ But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ,’ Ephesians 2:4.” Daniel responded calmly. “The Dead Horses and the Sorrows are confused. They have lived for hundreds of years without the word of God, and when it was brought to them, the man who brought it lived and died by violence. Living in ignorance is an ugly thing, but God often speaks loudest in the wild places of his creation, like Zion, for it is a natural temple and monument to His glory.” Daniel paused for a second, remembering what it had been like to walk there, the peace he had felt, the words of God coming so easily into his mind. “So we must once again try to show the tribes of Zion God’s love and mercy, not his wrath.”

Luke had listened to this in sullen silence, his brow creased with disapproval, his face a mask of suppressed defiance. “And you would leave Zion, God’s temple, to these heretics that you say worship Graham in the mean time?” He asked in a ringing voice.

“But whoever has the world's goods, and sees his brother in need and closes his heart against him, how does the love of God abide in him?” Daniel quoted. “The Dead Horses and the Sorrows have need of Zion, as evidence of God’s love for them, we will not close our hearts to their needs. Please remember Luke, that there are other ways to share the word of Jesus Christ beyond force. Let us minister to their spiritual needs, as we have in the past, and pray to the Lord that they will see his glory.”

Luke wore a martyred air as the rest of the quorum discussed the best ways to minister to the tribes of the south, and Daniel realized that he was not going to be silenced so easily. As Living Prophet it would be an easy thing to discipline him, of course: remove from the quorum, remove from the priesthood, and ultimately excommunication and expulsion from New Canaan were all options. Prophet Rigdon had been known to use these powers on rare occasion when an apostle or priest went too far in testing his authority, but Daniel had prayed to God on such thoughts and heard nothing. And in fact, he thought such actions only served to bring disharmony to the church and made everyone unhappy. In the case of Luke punishment may well make him more prideful and unforgiving. Daniel considered this as the other men talked, thinking how to both control and soften him at the same time. It would not be easy, he thought, but if everything were easy men would not need God’s guidance.

By the time Daniel’s focus returned to the discussion it had shifted from the tribes of southern Utah, to the Legion. “We fought in defense of our home three years ago, let us fight again. The Legion is weak, fractured and without a real leader, now is our time.” Luke said loudly to Johnathan, another apostle.

Daniel raised his hand to silence any response. “You are right Luke, we fought, but as you said it was in defense. Defense of the people of Utah, the men and women who would have otherwise suffered had the Legion’s attempt to move north succeeded. I am not blind to the suffering of those who currently live in Legion territory, but we would not improve their lives by going to war with them. Thousands would die, and truth be told I am not even sure that we would end up victorious.” He shook his head. “No, God’s word should be spread but not with violence. Let us act as we always have, let our caravans flow south, carrying trade, medical knowledge, and most importantly let us remember that we have more than food and medicine to offer. Good news is our most valuable commodity. We will teach, and start others along the path of salvation if we can.”

Luke furrowed his brow, no doubt ready to respond with condemnation, as Daniel had a thought. “Luke, in fact you deserve thanks for reminding us of the Legion, and that God has blessed us with wealth, not so we may sit and grow fat, but for His greater glory. That it is part of our holy duty to share our riches and spread his word.” Luke looked uncertain, pleased to be the center of attention, but wary of what Daniel might be getting at.

“I have decided,” Daniel went on, “That you shall be a part of our first caravan into Legion territory. They will offer safety to you as a trader, and you may…you may serve our lord amongst his lost children. Let the journey show you...” Daniel held his hand up by way of apology and paused, suddenly feeling a terrible headache coming on. He stood up, keeping a hand on his chair for support. “Gentleman…please excuse me. Let us continue this at another time. Peace be with you.” Without waiting for a reply he left the room for his private quarters.

 

[simcull]

"What the fuck do you mean the legionnaires were on jet?!" The Princeps boomed, his face bright red. He continued to shout at the centurion, "It is your job to make sure the men aren't chemmed out when they dig those gods-forsaken trenches!" The hunting dogs cringed with every word at this point, as Claudius' volume, and anger, increased. "Dammit! How incompetent can you be?! Thousands of caps lost!" He punched an ornate vase decorating the throne room. The fragile porcelain shattered, lacerating the furious ruler's hand. "Shit! Get the medicus and be out of my sight before I see you on the cross."

"Right away, sir." The centurion said, bewildered. He had heard of the Princeps' temper, but he never thought it was this bad.

 

[Dadarian]

HEEEEEEEELLO WASTELAND
​

This is the Moon Bear comin' at you from the magic of the airwaves! Hah are you today? Dead? Nah? Good! We can get to ah programmin', but if you ah dead, well, that sucks don'tchaknah? Lots have happened since my last broadcast, in the East, Southwest, and North respectively. Ah shall do my best to inform and entertain in equal measure.

In the Southwest, we hear that President Richards is facin' pressure in Shady Sands to do something about the Bonies, that group of ragamuffins that killed an entire village. I have personally heard that the President is plannin' to use the NCah Rangers to hunt down these goons. However this is unconfirmed and honestly my source drinks too much whiskey in the mornin' if yah knah what I mean.

On the Ceasah side of news, the civil war seems to be drawin' near as more and more reports of garrisons switching sides is reported. My favourite so far is that of the No-Man Camp which has switched sides a record of eight times at the whims of it's nominal leader, Maximus Favulus. Though Caesah has produced some coins, nothin' has actually happened between the two thugs.

In the North we find the quiet region occupied by the city of Ronto erupt. Rontese troops pour South and seized the small city of Niagara. This is the first heard from the reclusive North in a long, and whether it is the unification of our Northern brothers or the dawn of a new tyranny has yet to be seen. And I'd be damned if I didn't want to see it now. If you have trade contacts with the Amish and you are down to take a risk, trade with the Rontese may be a viable option.

Near the Pitt, we find the city a hellhole of violence and depravity as usual. The Queen has embarked on a new campaign of subjugation and murder, sweeping away entire villages because she can. Headin' this operation are the Rooneymen, thugs in wolves clothin'. Don't trust these guys, they're no good inside or out.

Nothin' interesting happens in Springfield. I honestly hate that place, the guy runnin' it is a twot.

That's all the news for today. It was good talkin' to you all. I'll leave you with Billy Eckstine playin' out a classic, Nat King Cole, just for you.

 

[Corman50]

Bunker Alpha, Command Room​

The Elders are all gathered in a briefing room. In the center of the room is large map displaying most of the pre-war United States, with the area under control of the Midwest, Texas, and the Union highlighted. The Elders appear to be in discussion with most having their attention focused on the map.

"Gladwin keep focused on the task at hand" Paris said with irritation.
"Task at hand?!" Gladwin turns with a mix of surprise and rage "Chicago was burning, militias rally, all because we gave in instead of showed the Texans our strength! How in the name of the Creator can you all just sit as though nothing is wrong!"
To this Paris replies"Because as extreme as terms may have been, ending one potential conflict gives us room to focus on another, against a more deserving foe I might add"
"Besides" Sinclair adds "If the reports indicate anything, Missouri will be more trouble for the Texans than it's worth"
"Oh and we've done so well in our fight against the Union! They control the skies because of an pitiful attempt of an operation!" He clearly looks toward Mason who continues to observe the map intensely, paying little mind to the heated discussion in the room
Paris trying to defuse the tension replies "Yes but our defense was excellent, the enemy made no significant gains in spite of their control of the skies"
"We must...remember are enemy... above all others.... is the Enclave" Augustin states, struggling to do so.
With this Mason, though still not looking up from the table notes and says "That said, what information do we have on the enemy's strength"
Gladwin at point still angry but as much as earlier in the discussion hesitantly answers "We our forces still out number theirs by a considerable margin, however it should be noted that they have control of the air space"
"Noted. What information have scouts obtained?"
This time Sinclair responds "Reports are scattered and hazy at best, but it would appear the Union is having some disputes with local tribes in their territory. It could be worth investigating further"
"Anything else?"
Paris hesitates before speaking "It might be, our couriers received a communique. At first we thought it may a have been a trap set up by the Union, but now we are not so sure, however the identity of the sender is odd to say the least" With this he pulls out out a file which Gladwin quickly grabs to review.
"What do you mean your unsure? This clearly a Union trap."
"Normally I would agree, but the route from which this was delivered would be extremely difficult for a Union agent to travel, especially covertly."
The file is then passed around with everyone getting a chance to view the contents in detail.
"The Wasteland is full of...legends and rumors... this is no different... we must not risk... our resources."
"The way I see it, we either walk into a trap prepared or gain an unexpected advantage, with some degree of caution we both scenarios will end in our advantage."
Everyone then turned to Mason who had remained silent, pondering the options before finally speaking
"Send them a response, we'll open discussion for the next few days to be sure whether or not this is genuine. We'll keep this information on a need to know basis, if does prove to be true then we won't it getting out. Now if that's all I believe this meeting is dismissed"

 

[EnvyDemon]

A Journey Across America

As historians comb over a large records archive they found in some well preserved history museums in San Fransisco, the NCR had been reading up on American History, and the Government makes a decision to send recon troops to what was the Capital of the United States, Washington DC. Noone knows what will await them there, but they are to report back in 4 months as to what lies on the east coast.​

 

[Jako473]

A Journey Across America

As historians comb over a large records archive they found in some well preserved history museums in San Fransisco, the NCR had been reading up on American History, and the Government makes a decision to send recon troops to what was the Capital of the United States, Washington DC. Noone knows what will await them there, but they are to report back in 4 months as to what lies on the east coast.​

A Frivolous Reminder:

While all of you already know, I feel that given the recent stress in Missouri it is a good time to pay-penchant to one of our oldest-standing policies. Should any NCR(creator forbid) be found from here to New Maxson, they shall be shot upon entry, no questions asked. They are our oldest standing enemy(save the Enclave, but their original incarnation has been dead for too many years), and we shall not bow to their imperialistic musings. That is all. Glory to The Brotherhood. -Senior Elder Henry, Paxston Sector​

 

[EnvyDemon]

The Route​

According to old maps, the NCR rangers will be taking a route from New Reno to New Canaan, then to Chicago along the old Interstate 80, they will then take it to Cleveland where they will go down the 76 to
Pittsburgh and then to Washington along the 270.

When there they will analyze the area, meet any locals and see if there is any enclave presence in the area. They will then discus what they will do with President Richards.

The Team​

The expedition squad consists of 12 highly trained NCR rangers, a diplomat, a former member of the dead horses that advises the group on tribal practices. a trader, and a historian that specializes in the history of the Pre-war United States. Making the group of 16.

They are in NCR equipment, just incase they meet anyone, possible Legionnaires, that may attack them for their nationality.

 

[XVG]

In the end Jacob had had to order his men to shoot up the computer terminal and the loudspeakers. The weapons and valuables were gathered from the room; Jacob especially liked the Chinese pistols. The assault rifles could also turn out to be useful. There was some collector’s value to them afterall. Jacob led a few men even deeper down to the last level, where the command site was supposed to be. The last door was the heaviest one, and blowing it up required quite a number of grenades and explosives taken from the previous room’s deceased sabotage group.

Sadly the command room had been breached already. Not by the Chinese. Not by some raiders or scavengers. Instead it had been broken into from the sewer system, somehow. The whole room was full of radroaches. A real nest. And the noise of the explosion had woken them up. As soon as the door was kicked in, they started to surge forward, attacking Jacob’s men. In the close quarters, the men desperately fired at them with the assault rifles, shotguns and carbines, before Jacob ordered the battered and partly wounded men to pull back to the upper level. He lobbed grenade after grenade into the staircase, before the upper door was safely locked and barricaded again. Even without getting to the command level, they had been able to take a considerable amount of loot from the site.

_ _ _ _

After getting on the move again, the next stop was Junction City. This city was occupied by a century-old group, the Reavers. They were well past their prime, though. After the defeat of the Calculator, the Mid-Western chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel had cracked down on them, with many of the Reavers ending up staying in the Brotherhood’s internment camps, with many forced to join the Brotherhood. However, a group of the Reavers managed to break free and decided to abandon their old base at Newtown, now turned into a desolate place after the Brotherhood confiscated their technology. The Reaver exiles concluded a pact with Junction City, allowing them to evacuate there, in return for helping advance and protect the city. Thus the Reaver survivors abandoned their old aggressive policies, and largely mixed with the location population to form a new faction. Most of the technologic progress and research had been lost for good, though. By 2300, Junction City had become the most important location in Kansas, an independent city-state and a safe haven from the wasteland’s dangers.

Jacob had travelled around the region quite often, but never with such a entourage. His main contact and associate in the town was Bob Jones, a middle-aged greying and partly bald man, who ran a local tavern-motel. The caravans usually stayed at the place, and sold their merchandise on the nearby squares and streets. Jones ran the place with his family, but had recently ended up in a spiral of gambling, heavy drinking and mismanagement. As Jacob arrived to the outskirts of Junction City, he wondered if the place was even up running anymore. But after being escorted into the well-guarded settlement by the guards who were descendants of the Reavers, he found out that ol’ Bob was still around. Playing cards with a few neighbors, as usual.

“Oh, is it Mr. Williams? Good to see you, boy. Come along and join the game now! Or are you too tired by a lengthy trip? Coming from the north or the west?”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jones. How’s business? Certainly looking dustier and emptier here each time I visit.” Bob’s grin ended quickly and he took a long gulp from a bottle. “Hard times, boy.” Jacob was actually worried. About his business contacts, of course. “But yes, I do come from the West, I come from Dog Town. I have news, I am not sure if you have heard of them yet.”

“What news, is the Legion finally preparing to conquer Kansas or what? I am not really happy about those skirt-wearing tribals pretending to be some unique ancient culture. But, eh, at least you can make a cap or two from trade with them.”

“Do not worry about the Legion Bob. They are at civil war, Bob. A young boy who says he is the son of the old Caesar is preparing to take the Empire back from Vulpes. Who knows, he might even win, but that will exhaust the Legion for good. And yes, we both know that their technology is on ridiculous levels.”

“Good to know, son. Good to know. Won’t have to worry about them forbidding me from my tasty drinks. But, Jacob, I have some news for you too. Are you planning to return back north or to Dog Town? Or will you continue the trek further east?”

“Well, I intend to reach Chicago and set up a new trade link all the way there.

“Son, not going to happen. The Mid-Western Brotherhood decided for whatever reason to hand over the next state, Missouri, to the Texan chapter. Now the whole desolate place is on the verge of an insurgency. Good luck getting through, son”
_ _ _ _

Later that night Mr. Williams and Mr. Jones were having a card game. A few card games actually. Mr. Jones also decided that this was a perfect justification to have a decent number of drinks. As the night progressed, Jacob decided that something had to be done in order to save his business contact. He had his men bring some extraordinary merchandise to the room. Among them was a mirror, placed behind the drunkard’s back without him realizing it.

“All right, Bob. Let’s have one last game. I feel like gambling a bit too. Let’s say that if you win, you’ll get all the property of my caravan, and if I do, I’ll get this tavern. Deal?”

“Of course, son! Nobody beats ol' Bob in gambling.”

In the end Bob lost the game in record time. It took a moment for him to realize what had happened.

“What have I done… Why… Please Mr. Williams, this place is all I own! What will I tell to my family?” Bob tried to reach for a bottle, but Jacob slammed it to the floor. “Firstly, you should stop drinking my merchandise!” Then Jacob started to laugh. “Mr. James, why would I take your tavern from you? Do you think I have any interest in running a place like this. No, I just have a request. No, two. Firstly, you’ll stop drinking and secondly you will help out with my caravans even more than now. I want to establish a regular caravan from here to Dog Town. Start the preparations tomorrow once you are sober again. And really, stay away from the booze.”

 

[Sneakyflaps]

A Girl With A Big Mouth​

As the doors to the Caesar’s throne room were opened, the legionaries quickly had Julia pushed on her knees and dragged in front of the Caesar, but while entering she had already seen a glimpse of the Caesar.

Caesar motioned his guards away from her, he leaned forward on his throne, studying her. “So you are the gift, the valuable associate of Mr. Williams. What is your name?”

She lifted her head. “Julia, my Caesar. A funny choice of a name actually, taking into consideration my current situation. But how about you, my Caesar? You happen to have a great namesake.”

“It is not just my namesake, it is who I am, it is what I am.” He studied her for a moment. “Mr. Williams said you had uses, intelligence and so forth, so how come that you have allowed yourself into a position like this. To be bargained away by a merchant?”

“I spent the last few years hiding in an underground library. Then this ‘drummer’ turns up, offers me help and food, and a way out of that hell. Of course I take the offer. The bastard is all nice to me until today. He had even promised me a position in his business! For all those weeks travelling here I had been nicely chatting with him, thinking that he had good intentions and goals. And as a thanks I end up in chains and sent away as a slave.” Caesar was more shocked that she was surprised, than that he did it.

“He is a businessman, there was something cold about him. I would have been surprised if he had kept you, well unless you provided other services for him, or simply being that good at making money.” He said with a slight chuckle. “You disapprove of this, of being here as my slave, my guest, would you prefer to simply leave?”

She bursted out laughing. “Where do you think I would go? Back to that merchant? Back to some hellhole in the north? Though, of course I would run out of this place at once, if you wouldn't have a few hundred of violent, brutal and psychotic soldiers on your streets.”

Caesar smiled. “They scare you? probably for the best. So what are your uses, what have you learned, now that I need to feed and protect you, what can you offer me in return?”

"To that earlier question of yours I might have answered with: ’optimum est pati quod emendare non possis’, or ‘It is best to endure what you cannot change.’ So said Seneca. While in that shelter of mine, I devoted all my time to books. I had a lot of books. History, poetry, literature. I especially learned a lot of that culture and empire my Caesar wishes to emulate.” Well read, by the looks of it.

Caesar shook his head. “I wish to emulate nothing, but instead build, construct something new, something fresh, something to last through the ages and see my empire win honour, glory and prosperity, while those around it falter.”

“Have you happened to read a book or two about this historical person with whom you coincidentally share a name with? Didn’t he also say that he found Rome when it was a city of bricks, but left behind a city of marble. I am certain that just like this ancient emperor, you have grand goals, which you seek to achieve with honor, my Caesar. You want to build and found something, upon the basis laid down by your father. Oh, more coincidences.”

“Heh.” He uttered before standing up. “Come with me.” he said as a slave also followed them into another room, away from the throne and the guards. Caesar sitting down in a more comfortable chair. “I'm impressed. I did not expect you to know all of this.” Caesar wanted to see just how much she knew, how much she would share, and how open she would be in private.

“Oh, my Caesar, this is only the surface. There is much more knowledge I have gathered. My Caesar, Cicero allegedly said that a room without books is like a body without a soul? Do you agree with him? Surely you must have also learned all this, in order to follow in your father’s footsteps.”

“I have read plenty of books and texts, including Cicero, Appian and so forth. Books have plenty to teach, what was before, what mistakes great men of old did, and more importantly, how to avoid repeating them.” A slave came over with some bread and water. “Take what you wish.” Caesar said. “You look like you could use it.” Caesar sat backing looking at her. “My father was a great, yet he had his flaws, the Legion is a powerful machine, a powerful army that is feared, but that is all. It is only an army, not a nation.”

“But that is only natural, my Caesar. Your Empire has been waging wars since its creation. It is still expanding, still in its birth. In times of war, those laws fall silent, as we know. One day maybe, once you have established your peace, maybe not continental one but at least regional, you can do that. Pax Augusta. Oh that, is yet another coincidence, isn’t it? But yes. Then you could establish a real governance, administration and what I think you need the most. Law and order.”

“There is nothing wrong with taking inspiration from a man of greatness. It felt natural, given the name of which my father took onto himself when he took power, yet he never truly used the power for anything but expansion. There was peace back then, order on the roads, people were protected. Well the males were, the women were largely still beaten and rape, same as today. It has largely fallen since his death, Vulpes, while certainly skilled, seems to have given up after Utah.”

“So traitors have used your father’s death to usurp his creation for themselves. Humans never change, do they? No respect for the dead, no respect for their achievements. As soon as they are gone, bickering starts. What happened to Alexander the Great and his empire? Vanished from history after he died. But, my Caesar. Your new slave is eager to know her owner. I didn’t see a single free woman around here. Are there even any? Surely you had a mother, for example?”

“She has her own rooms, she prefers to stay in them at least for now, she was always a woman of action, and I am afraid sitting around in court with me all day bores her in the extreme. Either that or she is outside camp with some of her own warriors if I can call them that, I truthfully don't know at the moment, she was always her own.”

“So afterall there are women who have some power? Interesting.” Her ambition certainly seemed to be unending. Caesar couldn't help but wonder, was her final goal that of Imperial power. “And that you are the offspring of one of them, does that mean that you might be more lenient regarding that matter? The place of women in your ‘society’ if we should refer to it as that.”

“I doubt my father would have been with a woman who had the qualities of a mouse, rather than a lioness.” He said before drinking some water. “Women have a place, a different place than they currently occupy, they are worth more than a simple warm body at night to keep the men warm. That however does not mean they will be equal, we must all pick our battles, the world cannot accept all changes within a decade.”

“Very well said, my Caesar. I see that you have seen reason and truth, and that years of war and death haven’t yet stained year heart. For thousands of people, you might be the only hope, as long as you stay truthful to what you have said and to what you believe in at the moment. And your mother, she sounds like a woman I would wish to meet one day.” Julia turned silent for a moment. “But what will happen to me now?”

He leaned back, eyeing her up and down, thinking. “Depends, what do you wish to have happen?”

“But aren't I supposed to be your slave? How would I have a say on what happens to me?”

“Humor me. I have little use if you cannot think and decide for yourself.” He breathed out heavily. “If you wish to be treated like a common slave, then so be it. Is that what you wish?”

“Your choice of words does tell me that even you know that it would be a waste.” She certainly has high opinions of herself. “Indeed. Certainly I wouldn’t wish for a fate like that for myself. Why would anyone? What other options do you offer to me then? I doubt you would send me away.”

“Help me, be my adviser and share your knowledge with me, do as I command and you will be safe, well fed and given proper quarters, away from the common legionnaire. Serve me to the best of your abilities, in whatever matter that might appear.”

Julia was partly surprised, maybe even a bit delighted. She would actually be safe, at least somewhat. But serving the Legion? There was hardly a choice though. “If this is what you want, I have no choice but to accept. How would your underlings see this, though? Their mighty Caesar taking advice from a lowly slave.”

“They are in no need to know, what happens in public, and what you advise me in private, and to my most inner circle, does not need to leave those ears. In time you may even earn your freedom, early even, if Mr. Williams proves insufficient to fulfill our demands. In the throne room, you will simply be a slave at my side, listening to what is happening, observing.”

The mentioning of Mr. Williams made her frown. “Oh yes, he probably thinks I will run to his arms if he ever comes to free me from your ‘caretaking’. Fine, we have an agreement my Caesar.” Julia looked down at her wrists. “Will these chains stay on?”

“Until you are free, you will need to carry a symbol, but it doesn't have to be as heavy as that.” He said with a smile, calling for a legionnaire who unlocked them. “You will need to clean yourself up, and make yourself presentable.”

“Thank you, my Caesar. I was perfectly clean and all before your men dragged me through that dust storm you call a city. But, with your permission, I will go and do as you wish.”

Caesar looked forward to seeing if she was able to keep quiet in public, and only speak in private, it would certainly be interesting. If she happens to fail at that, a week or two among the common legionnaires, sleeping among the women. A lack of food, water and clean clothes, well perhaps that would straighten her up. She would not be physically harmed, but psychological damage could occur, certainly from what she would be seeing if she failed to behave.

 

[Captain Ozwin]

The Best Dreams​

Chase was eating Dinner with a group of other pilots when the radio came on and Moon Bear played. Chase stood up and turned up the radio. When he heard his song play he smiled. "I requested this song and he actually played it!" One of the other pilots listened. "What? No way, how did you even ask him?" Chase finished eating his meal. "Back at Jacobstown I set up a little radio transmission and broadcast then requested it, but the song remains true I want to help and I want to make some kind of difference, I didn't want to spend the rest of my life running or taking revenge in a battle I know I can't..." Chase paused for a moment. "I don't know if I'm the last Boomer but even if I am it don't matter, I feel I am making a difference and somehow in the long run I think this program will help people, plus I'm going to be able to fly and I've always dreamed of that." Chase took a sip of water. A ghoul pilot walked in He spoke in a loud raspy voice. "Chase I haven't clocked my hour in can you set up the sim for me?" Chase stood up. "Of course lets do that now."

"Alright can you hear me Andrew?" Chase said speaking into the head set. He was sitting in a chair next to his computer terminal. Across from the flight sim. "Yeah I can hear you." The Ghoul pilot replied. Chase typed away at the computer terminal. "Your doing great at doge fighting and bombing runs, loading a vertibird for you now." Chase typed a few more commands in. "Andrew I need you to take a group special forces and land them in a Chinese military outpost, it is heavily guarded by anti air guns five other birds are going in with you as decoys." Chase hit enter and he watched data scroll across the screen. He couldn't see what Andrew was doing but he could see the results. He watched as little green letters appeared saying how three of the decoys have been shot down and Andrew was 500 meters from the LZ, then in big bold letters the screen flashed. MISSION FAILED. Andrew swore over the headset. "Alright Andrew we lets run it again." He tried five more times each resulting in a failure. "Andrew you have to fly lower and fly in an alternating zigzag formation to the anti air craft fire."

Andrew ended the simulator. He climbed out, and changed out of the neural interface suit, he removed a little wrist device that Chase jury rigged to emulate a Pip-boy. Chase handed him a book on Chinese tactics. "Chapter 5 read it and study it, if we ever have to drop people off into combat we have to minimize all casualties as much as possible, you will pass this just study a bit." Andrew nodded and exited the room. Chase turned back to the computer and loaded up a different sim, his key stokes were much slower than usual and slightly more cautious, after he typed everything in he double checked each letter of the code and every number, then checked it a third time. He set a ten second timer to auto start the sim as well as a five minute auto end , he climbed in.

Chase saw a flash of blue and white and then he was in the pilot seat of a fighter jet. He looked over his shoulder and saw an entire fleet of Boomer wing men and women. Chase smiled and flew close with his squadron. He flew a tight formation close enough to where he could see the helmets on the pilots and though he couldn't see their faces he imagined one of them was his father and the one to his four o'clock pulling a sharp dive was his old friend David, he named each of the planes after some of the Boomers he vaguely remembered. It didn't matter that they were all simulations, in his heart they felt real, he felt they were alive if not here, then somewhere, that had to be. He blinked and watched the artificial sun set. He clicked on the autopilot. He closed his eyes and started to fall asleep, if only his dreams were this good, then they would be the best dreams.

 

[simcull]

​

Claudius walked towards the closed door leading to the Praefecti Praetorio’s quarters, making sure to open the door with his uninjured hand. “Salve Decimus. We need to talk.”


Decimus, was at his desk, studying Pre-war military tactics when the Princeps opened his door. The Prefect looked up, and a look of disgust crossed his face before he stood and saluted.


“Ave, Princeps. What might you wish to talk about?”


“You probably already know, but the men are on chems and I had an… episode, and threatened the life of Caeso.” The Princeps chuckled slightly. “The issue at hand here is the men and their addictions. It’s slowing the productivity round here.”


“I understand and know of this issue, Princeps. The issue of chems is present even in the Praetorian Legion, as I’m sure you know. However, as much as I want to end the influence of the chems on our army, we must first consider the repercussions of cutting chems out of our army. Removing said chems will lead to an unprecedented loss of morale and discipline. I urge my Princeps to consider this.”


“Indeed, I suppose you are correct.” Claudius paused, thinking. “Perhaps we could ration the chems to the men?”


“That would show that we tolerate the presence of chems, Lord Princeps. I suggest that you instead urge the Magister Militum to issue a ban on all chems, but loosely enforce the ban. It will make our opinion on the chems known, and it will give us the time we need to prepare a cleansing of all addictive substances from our armed forces.” Decimus shifts in where he is standing, before resuming. “Additionally, I am sure that you know that the Centurions of our army are corrupt, and some serve as dealers to the men. I suggest that you, ‘remove’ them from Nova Roma, and replace them from list of good, competent men that I will supply. What say you on this?”


“A wise move indeed. But if the dealers are removed, what if the men fall into withdrawal? How would that affect their morale and capabilities? Praefecti, I believe we are stuck. We either eliminate the flow of chems outright through one method or another, or continue to see the men getting chemmed out whilst laying barbed wire.”


Surprised at the intelligent predictions of the Princeps, Decimus nods in agreement. “A very wise observation, Princeps. However, even if we ‘remove’ all of the officers, there will still be a few dealers left in the centuries, and you are not accounting for the dealers in the citizen class. We will not be totally cutting the soldiers off, but we will be removing incompetent officers and replacing them with competent ones. Soldiers will still be getting chemmed out, but if we begin to strictly enforce the ban on chem, as well as having a competent officer class, then we will be much closer to removing chem from the army of Nova Roma.”


The Princeps’ eyes narrowed slightly, going over Decimus’ words. “I suppose. It’s not as much the chems I dislike, it’s their usage of them at inconvenient times. Of course, nothing stops them from huffing their gods-forsaken brahmin shit concoctions at such times.” Claudius noticed the Praefecti was still standing at attention. “Sit down, dammit. There’s no need for formalities here.”


The Praefecti sat, although he sat in a rigid position, due to the Princeps being in his presence. “So you do not disagree with my proposal of removing the current Centurions of this legion? Because if so, then I would like to begin this soon. We need a competent army to hold our own against Vault 191 and the ghouls, and as I am sure my Princeps knows, the only way to do this is to have a competent officer corps.”


“Of course. I can’t stand those imbeciles that call themselves centurions.” A grin, with a tinge of wickedness spread across Claudius’ face. “How do we remove them?”


“You can arrange a meeting with the all of the Centurions of the I Legio Nova Roma. I shall be present, to dissuade suspicion.We will have five guardsmen of the Praetorian Guard stationed in your offices at the time of the meeting, and on your command, we shall show the Centurions of Nova Roma no mercy as we remove their heads from their bodies. Afterwards, we must make an example of their bodies. Crucify their headless corpses and mount their heads on stakes. What say you to this plan, my Princeps?”


The grin grew wider, almost to the point of unnervingness. “Great minds think alike, my good man. What of Slavko, would he tolerate such a… Show of disdain to our officers?”


“I will deal with Brankovich. There may be chem in the Guard, but I have loyal soldiers who will die for Nova Roma, and they will wipe him off the face of Nova Roma.”


“Hm. This will be quite a shuffle to the military. A needed one, nevertheless. Now, the second issue at hand: The amount of money present in the treasury can be stored in a legionnaire’s pack. This cannot stand. Do you propose anything?”


“Perhaps an expedition into Brooklyn is in order? I have heard it is home to only feral ghouls and remains untouched by the tribals.”


The Princeps’ raised an eyebrow. “Odd that the savages haven’t done too much to it. If what you say is true, then we may have to perform such an expedition.” Claudius yawned.


“The hour is late, my Princeps. We mustn’t bother ourselves with possible expeditions outside of Nova Roma when we still have internal affairs to deal with. I shall summon my most capable and loyal soldiers, and brief them on our plan.” The Praefect stands, and salutes the Princeps. “Ave, Princeps. Glory to Nova Roma.”


“Glory to Nova Roma. Bonum nocte, Praefecti.” Claudius left, shutting the door behind him.

 

[Ironhide G1]

It was humid. The edge of the Jungle was lined with tall trees. Two miles away, his forces were setting up camp for the invasion. He came up to the edge of the Jungle with his best 100 troops, the Justice Division. The best trained and equipped, they were truly an imposing force. After standing a few minutes, two men walked out of the steaming jungle. They spoke brusquely. "Who are you, and what do you want?"

The leader stepped forward and replied, "Hear this- this land belongs to Elijiah and his Holy Kingdom. Surrender now and convert and you will be spared. If you fight us you will die. Understood?"

The two men, shocked, looked around at the Justice Division. They gulped, nodded, and spinted off. The masked leader then asked to his leuitenant, "How many men does it take to deliver a message?"

The lieutenant replied, "only one."

A shot rang out across the jungle.

 

[Sneakyflaps]

Merchants on The Road​

It was finally starting to warm up after winter, a lovely spring and soon a lovely summer. The caravan had made stop on its route to the DCC, they had heard of great trade opportunities and as such had dared take the risk of traveling the waste. They had found an old abandoned house a bit outside of the DCC borders where they had stayed the night, seeking shelter from the weather and a warm bed. They had found a few guns and military supplies that had been recently opened, taking some of the garbage left behind in hopes of selling it on when they reached the city. There was a surprising amount of military goods here, considering the fact that no a single soldier had been on the road. The leader went outside to the back of the house, looking over the landscape, seeing the grave behind the house and frowning as one of men came out.

“We are ready to leave sir.” Said the guard.

“Good, we should get on the road, we have a tight schedule.” The merchant said taking in the view.

“Looks fresh.” The soldier said. “The gravestone that is.” He nodded towards.

“Indeed, it’s a shame.” The merchant said as he looked at his guard. “After all this time, you still haven’t learned to read, have you?” The guard just shook his head as the merchant looked over. “It says: Jennifer Ryder, beloved sister and treasured daughter.”

“Ah.” The guard said.

“Anyways, let’s get going, I want to sleep in a warm bed tonight.” The merchant said with a smile as they headed for the DCC.

((For those wondering what happened to the DCC soldiers, this will hopefully give enough insight to figure out the rest))

 

[Jako473]

New Problems, New Districts

​

The Commonwealth of Texas was just as much of a Wasteland as any of the others after the war, however, they now were home to the largest brotherhood presence in the Wastes. Pure brotherhood, that is. Its borders have remained mostly rigid for its generational-existence, so not much record pertains to its expansion. Some Elders believe expansion would be heretical, others think that any new territory they take can be indoctrinated.. A current Meeting of the Maxson Elders and the District Elders of unprecedented length was taking place.

"General Ulysses, House Coremandt, how do you possibly expect us to keep these lines? The attrition we might sustain, even besides the locals' own munitions, these threats to us cannot be dismissed so easily!" Senior Elder Henry of Paxston fervently debated. Several other Elders of the Frontier Ranges agreed..

Ulysses calmed himself for a moment, before gesturing towards the war-board. "Our occupational force is temporary. You all know my plans, another Chapter, Missouri is too far from our reach to be properly maintained.. This will be for the good of all of us, and I intend to reward those who know their loyalties." He peered down the single Elder of the Former-State of Missouri. Maldon they called it in the Texan Chapter, the loyal man weny by the name of Jackson.

"Let us listen to the Grand Paladin's pleas," Jackson argued, "Another chapter more loyal to us then those Midwestern Scoundrels could influence their brothers far faster then we could.. With them, they could centralize their patrols, and their hierarchy. A strong command and the locals could see there is no reason to fear, the brotherhood would protect their borders, and keep any riff-raff off.." The representatives from The Dustbowl groaned.

"A strong command? We cannot spread ourselves too thin, how many brothers would we need to send this new Chapter? How much resources? I doubt there is even thing left presentable in that bleary land, why must we worry ourselves with these tribals? We could leave it to the dogs." Other Dustbowl Elders agreed.

The Couple of the Western Texans shook their heads, Lubbock and Fort Worth, Their districts used to be the most heatedly contested, what with Caesar on the border. Ever since that nuisance popped up the tribesfolk have been heatedly scared, they didn't care much for his rule.. Rather his brutality. The Tribesfolk demanded more or less to be allowed in brotherhood forts. They all were rejected, of course. "Heretics without, you say.. What about the Heretics within? Those that we trust? I trust not a man here. We might as well all be our own chapters, if that is how it is to be. We have enough men on our own to survive.." Fixton grumbled, Elder of Lubbock.

Ulysses crushed his hand, these old men were all squabbling, speaking of heresy! "Another word, and I will cut your throat Fixton. Do not think I will wait for you to plead your innocence. I will lay out my plans. You will follow them. This is not a discussion. This is a War Council." He looked around, ready to bark at whoever opposed. Head Scribe Varick Nelson sighed when none opposed. He was in charge of writing down the proceedings, and personally encrypting them inside of a Terminal.

The reasoning for this was that only the scribes were entrusted with such information, they passed things such as this along, but only after it had been processed. A council of Elders could only be entrusted with a man of importance as himself.. But he would much rather study something interesting. Ulysses then began to order a table, a reorganization of the standing Brotherhood forces.

((Texas Region))
New Maxson(The Fair Hills): 200 Paladins, 1000 Knights, 500 Scribes (High-Elder Ulysses, Council of Elders)
Saintly Angel(Fort Sam): 100 Paladins, 500 Knights, 250 Scribes (Elder John)
Houston(Fort Defiance): 400 Paladins, 100 Knights, 175 Scribes (Elder Sam)
Dallaston(Clarks): 300 Paladins, 1000 Knights, 200 Scribes (Elder Roger)
Lubbock(Marillion Square): 800 Paladins, 800 Knights, 100 Scribes(Elder Fixton)
Fort Worth(Fort Worth): 800 Paladins, 800 Knights, 100 Scribes(Elder Harrison)
Laredo(Mcallen Watch): 100 Paladins, 200 Knights, 300 Scribes(Elder Jorge)

((Oklahoma Region))
Oaksworth(Dustwood): 200 Paladins, 100 Knights, 300 Scribes (Senior Elder Garin)
Electron(Nikoli Watch): 100 Paladins, 50 Knights, 200 Scribes (Elder Vancleef)
Oklumagee(Witchita Falls): 50 Paladins, 150 Knights, 500 Scribes (Elder Farcrow)

((Arkansas Region))
Paxston(Fayet Fort): 300 Paladins, 100 Knights, 250 Scribes(Senior Elder Henry)
Small Rock(The Boulder): 250 Paladins, 100 Knights, 400 Scribes (Elder Yarrick)

((Missouri Region))
Maldon(Creek Crossing): 100 Paladins, 100 Knights, 300 Scribes(Elder Jackson)
[Crusading Force in Missouri: 3,000 Paladins, 10,000 Knights (General Ulysses)]

 

[Captain Ozwin]

Trial and Error ​

Chase could hear a loud echo of someone tapping on metal. Then a voice in his ear. He opened his eyes and the flight simulator opened. Chase rubbed his eyes and blinked as the bright lights irritated his eyes. He blinked a few more times and they adjusted. Dr. Arcade Gannon typed on the computer terminal. "Don't sleep in there with it running you could end up putting yourself in a comma." He said and turned towards Chase and shined a light in to check his eyes.

Chase closed his eyes in protest. "I just woke up... and I know I set a timer it automatically shut of before i fell asleep, whats for break fast?" Chase yawned.

Dr. Gannon skimmed the codding on the terminal and replied to Chase while still reading. "You slept through it, and no one knew where you were at we have been looking for you all morning Chase... this isn't a combat program." He read more of it. "Chase this is a beginners formation flight, your way more advanced then this, your even tutoring others."

Chase frowned. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to cause any problems... oh that um that's nothing just trying to make a program from scratch that's all." Chase smiled a little nervously. "Um its not finished you don't have to read it or anything."

"Really? well no in that case I'm slightly impressed you managed to do that, well considering you and ED-E put the whole thing together on your first day here, oh by the way Chase, Marcus has put a lot of trust in everyone in this program especially you, don't pull any stunts. Everyone is working hard, so I need you to focus."

Chase stretched and released a crick in his neck. "I will see what I can do."

After a few hours of gathering parts and other electrical components, Chase and ED-E began work on constructing a second sim. A few more hours pass by and it starts looking somewhat like the other flight sim. "ED-E I need a few more tools." The little eye bot retrieved the tools and Chase pulled a few wires together. "ED-E please weld the left side together." ED-E hovered around and sparks flew as pieces of metal melted together.

"Alright lets plug this in." Chase plugged multiple power cords into the large generators. A spark and then the second sim overloaded and exploded. ED-E flew backwards and a shard of metal two inches long jammed its self into Chase's shoulder and collar bone, he fell down and could only hear a loud ringing in his ears. He managed to stand up and saw ED-E covered in smoke and one of the antennas were bent sideways. Chase bent it back into shape and started to rub some of the soot off of ED-E. A group of guards rushed in, they seemed worried and were yelling to Chase. His hearing came back slowly.

After getting patched up and explaining what happened he returned to the flight sim room. Checking through the scrap he wrote down what he had used and tried to figure out what he needed. His head pounded, he sat in his chair by the computer terminal, it had some dirt on the screen. Chase looked at the bandage on his shoulder. "Hopefully Marcus doesn't hear about this."

 

[baboushreturns]

Orders due October 4th

 

[Harpsichord]

Casdin's Journal, 2300.03.29

The losses we've incurred have been almost catastrophic. In a handful of months over half of the Chapter's military capacity had gone. Veterans of the march East, Knight-Apprentice's fresh from training; death does not discriminate. It simply consumes. Have I condemned the Chapter? Could we ever recover from such destruction?

I can not think of such things. All signs indicated that the operation was a necessity. Against Lyons, the Enclave had struck first. Again at Fort Independence, it was they that started hostilities. And now, they had struck at us again...this Enclave are a people born of hate and destruction. Truly, they must be the children of those that walked before the flames, for only their spawn could wreak such havoc, could take such pleasure in their own demise.

We must continue. I must continue. Doubt is a plague, conviction the cure. Runners from the front say their 'President' refuses negotiations. So be it; if they will not lay down their arms, they will be purged from this earth.

 

[XVG]

After hearing about the strife within Missouri, Mr. Williams decided to change his route. Instead of crossing the troubled state, he decided to take a northern route via Southern Iowa into Illinois. That ought to be safer, he thought. Luckily he also had some maps and notes done of the region. The route lead from Junction City towards the ruins of Topeka, and then over the Missouri River, briefly entering the eponymous state and moving on quickly into Iowa. This certainly wasn’t ideal, and future trade routes should go through Missouri. But now, it was of most utmost importance to get all the way to Chicago safely. From Junction City, Jacob had a note sent to Mr. Baker in Dog Town, instructing him of handling the trade through Kansas that was supposed to be increased.

About a day or two away from Topeka, the caravan had settled down to a camp already by the afternoon, due to the exhaustion of the animals, and because the weather was getting poor. They had hastily arranged elaborate tents around, because there was absolutely nothing else nearby on the plain. Jacob had his hat pulled over his face, and was quickly asleep. Being on the move was his passion, but now, for once, he was actually rather tired. He was bored too; the men he had hired were rather simple caravan guards, none of whom had even half the brains of the people he normally socialized with. Thus he refrained from speaking with them apart for the simplest necessities. As he was lying there half-asleep, everything seemed to be fine.

Then one of the guards rushed in with a panicked look on his face. “Mr. Williams, there is something. You have to see this!” About a few kilometers to their south they spotted a tornado. These radioactive wasteland tornadoes happened to be nasty, because they lifted up the radioactive ground around them, and thus were quite hazardous. In addition, getting too close to them could easily cause some pretty serious damage to property and health, as being thrown around by a tornado was not exactly nice.

“All right, let’s move on quick. Find some shelter for us and the animals.”

“But there is none, sir. We shouldn’t have stopped I fear.”

It was true. Jacob had made a grave mistake. Too late to repent now. With no other way, they simple threw themselves to the ground and hoped for the best, as the tornado was moving right on them. It looked pretty grim. Lucky for them, they ended up surviving. It was almost like a miracle. The tornado moved through the edge of the camp, throwing away a few brahmins, quite a lot of grades and even one of the guards. But the rest were unscathed. Now they only had to take all the Rad-X available and waste a lot of water on washing themselves of the radioactive dust and water that covered their skin and belongings. Soon after they were on the move again to find a better camp site.

 

[baboushreturns]

The Battle in the Dust​

​

In the vast expanses of land east of the Colorado the struggle for the fate of the Legion wass still being played out in the deserts, mountains and valleys of Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico and Nevada during the spring and summer months of 2300. The young Imperator Octavius would face battle for the first time and would come to know the true meaning of war.


As May dawned so came Spring, the message of the heir to Caesar was carried west across the Legion via the coins minted in Dog-Town the month previous. And in the weeks to come a new rash of defections would break out in garrisons across the Legion as hundreds took up Octavius’s cause. With these defectors also came news. News that in the west another rebellion had broken out against the rule of Vulpes. Apparently a group of officers (fearing another frumentarii purge in the wake of the current rebellion) from the “Legion of the Sun” or the Seventh Legion had broken out in insurrection declaring their Tribune an old school officer named Aurelius of Phoenix emperor. Aurelius accepted the declaration and soon their sister Legion (the eighth) under the command of Tribune Scipio joined the new insurrection. Aurelius apparently now controls much of Arizona and as a result Vulpes reportedly led much of his newly raised army to Arizona to do combat with Aurelius.


This news was at first met with some exaltation as many under Octavius knew that he was simply not ready to deal with the full brunt of Vulpes forces yet. However relief soon turned to horror when the news arrived that Zenobia and her slavers had been captured by Vulpes frumentarii. Apparently the women serving under Zenobia had all been executed save a few and Zenobia herself had been tortured. No news was received on the status of the Imperator’s sister or other courtiers serving with his mother.


Octavius took the news badly worrying deeply for the welfare of his family, he began to fall into a deep depression. Salinus observing the worsening state of his charge ordered the young man to take a trip to Texas in order to clear his head and to gather further support for his cause. In June Octavius left and in July he returned following a tour of the Texan frontier. Several commanders down along the border opted to join him and he personally participated in several skirmishes against those forces which opted to remain loyal to Vulpes in the region. By the end of July he had managed to rally 12,000 men to his cause with the core of his army being centered around the “Lost Legion” but with forces present from garrisons as far away as Vegas.


As July wound down to a close Salinus’s scouts began reporting that a large force loyal to Vulpes was approaching the region. In anticipation of an offensive Salinus began the preparation of various traps and ambushes all along the southern frontier of Colorado. These preparations came just in the nick of time as a force consisting of the bulk of two Legions or some 17,000 men would enter Colorado on the seventh of August that year.


Vulpes forces made for Dog-Town and would take a beating on the way there as ambush after ambush took its toll on the armies morale and numbers. However these were Legion troops and were familiars with the tribal style of fighting which Octavius’s forces had adopted and soon the ambushes began to lose their potency.


The commander of Vulpes forces a rugged officer by the name of Sula led his men well and by mid-August had closed the distance, camping within striking range of Dog-Town. Salinus knew a large battle was near and instructed his Imperator to rally the forces before the gates of the city. On August 21st Sula would make his move deploying the army in a conventional formation (recruits at the front, veterans at the back) and marched for Octavius’s lines. The young Emperor barely had time to deploy his men before to his surprise a dust storm broke out whipping across the valley which was home to his capital.


Salinus sensing an opportunity in this dust ordered the men into two concentrations on the left and right of where Sula’s lines had been just minutes before and ordered a charge. After a brief sprint the two Legion’s would meet. With the commanders of both armies blinded by the dust, communication would soon prove impossible. The battle itself would soon become irrevocably tangled. The commanders of Sula’s Legion in the center of his lines would become confused. Hearing combat to both their right and their left they sent reinforcements in both directions however these reinforcements would confuse friend for foe and would charge, machetes bared towards their own comrades hacking their own allies down. The men in these lines now being attacked from both the front and the rear collapsed and a confused and deadly route would ensue in which hundreds on either side were cut down. Octavius’s men confused friend for foe too on several occasions and in the end Salinus would prove unable to press the advantage instead calling his men back to their camps to wait the storm out. The dust would persist for 3 days and when it finally settled the enemy army was gone. 6,000 of Sula’s men were found dead on the field along with 2,000 of Octavius’s own. The teenager had never seen death on this scale before and reportedly wept in his tent following the battle. However according to many of his advisors after a talk with Salinus he vowed to never cry again.


In the following days it was reported that Sula had been fatally wounded at the battle and that despite the best attempts of his Legion they had failed to save him. On Octavius’s side Horatius, Tribune of the Lost Legion had taken a .357 caliber round to the chest and had died immediately. Octavius himself had received severe burns from the dust but as news of the battle spread the last Legionairres along the Texan frontier would swear allegiance to Octavian upping his numbers to 18,000 men. As summer winds down to a close Octavius must decide upon a new course of action.

[-8,000 Legionnaires]

 

[baboushreturns]

Orders due tomorrow.