Tales of the Mud City v2 - A Fallout FRP (OOC)

[Quackers 68]

All accepted.

[Alfonso X el Sabio 19]

GRAHAMS HUNTERS

 

Or, “The 83rd Light Infantry Regiment”

 

Civ type: Advanced

 

Starting points: 5 Development points, 3 Research tiers, 1 Basic Material, 1 stack of 5

 

Faction backstory: Mountain men from the luscious paradise of Appalachia, these men had not had it easy. A flashpoint between the mega-corporations who sought to exploit the lands and its people for capital and resources, as soon as mushroom clouds began to spawn by the dozens along the American landscape, Appalachia was spared for nuclear devastation and a transformation into a desolate wasteland, inhabited by all types of mutated amalgamations of life. Albeit not untouched by the invisible effect of the bombs, Appalachia was still relatively untouched by the hellish impacts of them, only certain areas becoming irradiated and uninhabited wastelands. 

 

The hunters' originated from inhabitants of Appalachia from even before the American Civil War, a distant memory for many new Americans. The majority of the hunters were rural bootleggers and moonshiners since this fabled age, and whose families’ history of service for the Confederates is well documented and recorded. Tied to their indigenous lands, since their inception, the Hunters were one of the most fanatical participants of the United States government plan to recolonize Appalachia when the rumbling Vault-tec doors ground open and the sunlight peered through the cracks. They were ecstatic to be spectators of the new light shining on America, as patriotic members of the Enclave. Their dreams, however, were quickly put down. 

 

The crimes and injustices of the Enclave against their own people were soon outed and civil war began, rattling much of Appalachia and causing the transformation of the pristine landscape, perfect and suitable for human development, to be corrupted. The Hunters fought alongside General Allen Santiago in the Civil War, known as then “83rd Light Infantry Regiment.” They were dubbed, Freddies’ Hunters, after the First Colonel, Freddie Anderson. They were sharpshooters and placed almost exclusively in scouting and reconnaissance missions, and they were renowned for it, due to their natural disposition to the demands of the tasks, and their knowledge and even affection to the terrain.

 

 Once the Enclave was defeated in the war, the Colonel decided to codify his regiment goals, tactics, and mission.  called, the Hunters, who after the war ended, continued to the prow the mountains and creeks of the paradise, destroying the spawn of their enemy; scorch beasts and other irradiated and robotic manifestations. Soon, the purpose of the Hunters gradually evolved as Colonel Adam ‘Brightboy’ Banks, wrote a revolutionary thesis in his manuscript, vilifying any organized effort to establish a large, spanning government, which will eventually lead to the resurgence of the military-industrial-complex that will inevitably seize control and have unrestricted control to create mayhem on the human race. Thus the prime targets of the Hunters morphed, from the mutant creatures born out of radiation, to the mark of the beast, the robotic formations brought about by the defense contractors and military companies.   

 

CHICAGO

The Huntsmen are now a nomadic group many hundreds of years old, traversing the wasteland through the shadows, still operating as scouts and adhering to their old deceptive tactics derived from the dawn of the Enclave, remembered through their main text, “A Handbook to the Appalachian Hunter”. This manual has been created with the goal of preserving the mission and goals of the regiment, the history, and hierarchy, and preaches skepticism of any piece of autonomous robotic hardware, as a threat to society that must be eliminated. The formal motto of the Hunters is INRI, which no one truly knows the significance of it but can found on any piece of Hunter memorabilia, however, the informal motto of the hunters, and the one used much frequently, is “Scrappers…” which, when standing in the Main Quarters, can be heard uttered dozens of times in one sitting. An old idiom, inscribed in the handbook under the Hunter Culture, and other Gabldegook’s Chapter states: “Take a shot of shine for every time you hear a Hunter say ‘Scrapper.’” 

 

They have taken refuge in the Chicago History Museum, which they have transformed into a giant fortress in the middle of Downtown Chicago. They are stationed secretly in small nests throughout their zone of control, yet the streets seem to be void of any life, the only evidence of sentient life being the remnants of the occasional robot shot and stomped to smithereens on the side of the road.

 

Graham Corners:

Graham, a grizzly faced, and rough individual in nature is the leader and patriarch of the Hunters. Elected by the Round Table nearly 30 years ago, he has been an effective administrator of the Hunters, yet nothing out of the ordinary. Speaking with a thick country accent, as with many of the Hunter Rangers, his is particularly rich, stumping even a handful of rangers. A quiet, soft-spoken, and reserved, fella, yet quick on the draw and very steady hands, he is the model Hunter. He is a man of literature, and culture, taking great pride in having several additions of himself to the Regimental Library. 

 

Robert “Robby” Martins

Robby is a new recruit, a freshly dug out from a small band of survivors living in the wasteland that was absorbed into the Hunters. Youngblood is always welcome within the ranks of the Hunters, yet this one is especially jubilant, wreckless, and explorative, seeing the Rangers stealth as futile, opting much rather to enter, “guns-blazing-blaring”, as he puts it. 

 

Callum Rivers

Callum was picked up from Appalachia, he was a Regulator in a small town from what used to be Pennsylvania. Never leaving without his trusty hat, a token to his days as a Regulator, he is Graham’s right-hand man, and thus has gained privileges to sleep on guard as a result. He carries an old Colt Revolver on his side at all times, which he calls, “Jenny”, and constantly refers to it, some Hunters noticing an odd affection to it. 

Edited October 17, 2020 by Alfonso X el Sabio

[Z3r05t4r 854]

 

Faction Name:

 

The Kingdom

 

Civilization Type:

 

Civilized

 

Starting Points:

 

5 points into research:

2 points to upgrade Armor to T3

3 points to upgrade Firearms to T3

 

4 points into equipment:

2 sets of T3 Armor, at 50 pieces

2 sets of T3 Firearms, at 30 pieces

 

1 point into additional funds

 

Faction Backstory:

 

They call themselves “the Kingdom”. These people have flocked together under the banner and leadership of a man who calls himself Jonathan Hessenheim. And banner is quite literally, as a piece of dirty white cloth with one singular black stripe crossing it diagonally flies in the winds. Supposedly it should represent the single path, the road forward into the future with the King at the very front. That is what Jonathan has ingrained into every single member, everyone who believes on him, or just joined him in the hope of better protection and to sleep safely for once. Chicago is a dreary place.

 

With mutants, raiders and otherworldy terrors around every corner, the Kingdom exhibits normality, with a glimpse the seemingly utopian Old World lifestyle, something that Jonathan has also promised his followers. Only together however, could they ever achieve such. With a stroke of luck and knowledge salvaged from various old world libraries, archives and books, he armed himself and his group with a good amount of weaponry, metal plated armor and bunkered down in one of the many districts of Chicago, as the founding base of operations for the Kingdom. The goal was to conquer these wild lands surrounding them and restore what can be restored.

 

More to be developed.

 

Characters

 

Jonathan “King” Hessenheim, current leader of the group of people in Chicago that have flocked to his banner.

 

Little is known about the man in his fourties, other than that he has a big dream. A revitalized Chicago, a city without mutants, monsters and raiders. He instills hope and confidence into those around him with the look of a post apocalyptic feudal monarch. It may seem strange to many, but he wears a crown of gold wires intertwined with black pearls (whereever he looted that from) on top of his ruffled dark brown hair. At base, unless he is holding court (in a very relaxed manner), the crown is safely stored in his bedroom, only brought up on official business or with visitors. Furthermore he wears a plain white piece of cloth with the black stripe across it over his metal armor. Apparently he has old documents that trace back his family to medieval Europe where they were nobles once. Over 1000 years ago. Though such heritage may be of little importance to many, for Jonathan it meant destiny. Yes, even without explaining it to every individual as to why, this show gives him an aura of authority. Though his “realm” encompasses only a few hundred people, he is dedicated to expanding it, not shying back from opportunities or challenges.

 

In the wastelands of Chicago you have to show a firm fist to your foes, but offer an open hand to those that support you, your cause or share your ideas.

 

More to be developed.

 

[Samoblivion 531]

 

CAESAR’S LEGION

 

Civilization Type:

Tribal

(Start with 5 M of Melee/Armour)

 

Starting Points:

5 – 1 Stack Population + 1 Block

4 – Research (T3 Melee, T2 Armour, T1 Firearms)

1 – Production (50 T1 Firearms)

 

Faction Backstory:

 

In 2250, Mars sent his son to lead the tribes of mankind from the squalor and filth of free will and profligacy. His name is Caesar, and he is the divine master of all the Wasteland. By his iron will, the tribes of the west have been broken and reforged into his Legion, the only society that can truly survive in this world cleansed by Mars’ fires. Only through conquest, subjugation and violence can this uncaring world be tamed and the wretches of the Wasteland be saved from themselves. The Legion’s mighty slave armies have raised Caesar’s banner from Colorado to the Mojave, the towns there made tributaries and its tribals enslaved. All this is done for Caesar’s grand vision – the creation of an unstoppable army to cross into California and conquer the corrupt and profligate NCR.

 

The passage of five hundred rangers of the hated NCR into the Legion’s pacified realm did not go unnoticed. This disturbance in the lands of the loyal subjects of Caesar was enough to earn his ire, and dispatch the Legate Augustus with a legio to put down this clear attempt at sabotaging the Legion’s homefront. Yet the Rangers passed through without incident. No assault on Flagstaff, no attempt to whip the docile settlers into rebellion. The Rangers had a different objective. One that the Legion could not possibly allow to come to pass. By the will of almighty Caesar, Legate Augustus has been sent further east than any army of the Legion thus far. With the esteemed Legate Lanius needed at Hoover Dam, Augustus is assigned a cohort from the Legion border at Denver and ordered push eastward after the enemy unit, to annihilate the Rangers and to raise the scattered tribes of the region into a mighty recruiting ground for the final assault on California. Any who stand in their way will be killed or brought to Caesar’s service.

 

 

 

Characters

 

 

Legate Augustus:

 

Life only began for the one who would become Augustus when his nose was broken and eyesocket shattered by the mailed fist of a legionary. The assimilation of his tribe was the greatest moment of his life, when he would forever thank Caesar for. The boy of twelve he was would not have thanked Caesar. The boy of twelve he was screamed as siblings were taken by the priestesses, as his mother was dragged to the rape camps, as his father was crucified, as his grandparents were herded into a tent that was set alight with the other weaklings. But the man the boy became saw this event only with pride. It was then, and in the years afterward, that all weakness, all fear, all remorse and pity were cut and beaten from him. What would he have been had this not been done? What wasted, pointless life would he have lived without being tempered into an instrument of Caesar’s glory?

 

Over twenty years have passed since that day. He has blessed countless others with that same gift, blessed them by releasing from the burden of choice. He has seen the Legion’s banner rise above a hundred battlefields and brought absolution to the profligates one nailed cross at a time. He does this not out of brutality or malice. He does this because his life is not his own. His life belongs to Caesar, and when death comes for Augustus it will be in his name as well. There is no greater honour.