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Posted: Thu Nov 02, 2017 8:54 pm
Let's open a new thread...
Re: Wasteland tales
Posted: Thu Nov 02, 2017 8:57 pm
Posted by 80TNT80 » Thu Nov 02, 2017 6:34 am
Bug stew. Done it a million times. Never tasted good. But it does keep us alive.
As I stir the meat around, I glance at the other half of "us". Everytime she massages her side, I remember how close I came to losing her.
"How many times I told you not to rush in like that," I burst out.
"Better them than us. Besides it's already too late to save em, they're dead. We've wasted lots of ammo trying to save already dead people."
My rant dies off as I offer her the stew. Taking a swig from the water bottle, I let my words sink in. I'm not blaming her, I just want to protect her. But I can't if she keeps taking risks like this.
This time it was just a flesh wound. What about the next time?
The same question is on her mind. I can see it, how she's gradually stopped eating. She doesn't need a lecture or concern, but comfort.
"Bugs for dinner, bugs for breakfast, IM SICK OF BUGS!"
I feel her eyes on my bowl as I empty it into the dirt. I'm seriously sick of this shit.
"Finish yours and lets get moving. I smell a foul stench, probably rotters. I dont wanna have to deal with those shits today".
Re: Wasteland tales
Posted: Thu Nov 02, 2017 8:58 pm
Posted by Lily » Thu Nov 02, 2017 6:40 am
The softest touch and the quietest groan. And he is awake.
"Your turn to make breakfast," I whisper from my place beside him. We lie still for a few moments, before I decide to grab a drink. A night's rest with the aid of a stimpak has left my throat dry. It's a condition I've become all too familiar with.
Water is more valuable than a gun in this wasteland. We found full bottles in a military truck some days ago. Remembering this, I fetch the one underneath my pillow and stumble outside. Tastes better than vodka right now - when did I last have a shot? Two months? Three?
Outside our thin tent, it's impossible to tell sunrise from sunset. Yet I know it is morning: yesterday I wasn't bleeding from a wound in my side.
A moan escapes my lips as I crouch beside the remains of last night's campfire. Setting the precious water bottle aside, I stir the ashes with a stray stick. A few nudges and the embers are ablaze. But not for long. Pulling my gaze from the struggling flames, I decide to look for a few pieces of wood. As I rise with the bottle in hand, I clench it with a fist.
Fingers lightly trace my wound beneath the bandages. His fingers.
I suck in a deep breath and turn around, his hand dropping to his side.
"It's alright. You know I'm strong," I say, flashing my widest smile at him. I stare into his dark eyes as he wonders if I'm simply putting on a brave face. Assessing my true condition.
"We've been through worse," I tell him as I touch the smallest of scars on his cheek. With still no response, I let my hand drop along with the rest of me beside the campfire.
"All ready for you to reheat the yummiest stew around," I gesture to the fire with a wink.
He sits beside me and prepares a stew. Inevitably, he brings up the events of last night. I'm content to let him lecture me as he cooks. If there is any topic that can get him to talk, its my recklessness. I know what he speaks is true.
Falling silent once more, we swap stew and drink as the first rays of sunlight show up a bleak countryside. Scattered here and there are the corpses of bugs and humans alike. We found the massacre last night but were too late to stop it. The small group with their spears and sticks didn't stand a chance against those claws.
There was one of the group I could have saved. If I had been quicker, I might have reached her in time.
And if I had been wiser, I would have let her die. And woken up with no injuries to speak of. At least on the outside.
"Bugs for dinner, bugs for breakfast; IM SICK OF BUGS"
I watch my partner empty his stew on the ground as the nightmare fades. He smirks when I catch his eye.
We're still far from the base. And there's no guarantee it will be safe. But right now, I've never felt safer.
Re: Wasteland tales
Posted: Fri Nov 03, 2017 11:03 am
part of Story
Re: Wasteland tales
Posted: Fri Nov 03, 2017 11:12 am
Silence.. It's deafening as I force myself to sit down. It hurts, there's pain everywhere. My neck forbids me to look around, my wrist.. the rope around it burns like a hot metal. My face, it's excruciating that I dared not to touch. Blood.. traces of blood.
I don't know how long I sat there as I observe things what my eyes could reach. I remember opening my eyes as I feel my face burning.. but before that, I remember nothing.
I'm in a shack, from the looks of it. As soon as I stand up, I saw a pen over a pile of papers. I could write, I can barely hold the pen, but I could write. Words fill the pages, I can read and understand them. But I failed to write something about me. I'll keep writing words until something returns to me. Until this day ends.
I escaped the damned place. A horrifying man shows in the place while I was writing. He's screaming something before I hit him with a pipe. He doesn't have a jaw and his tongue waves as he attempted to choke me before I struck him down.
From the edge of my eye, I saw something shiny, a reflection of sunlight.. a mirror. As I looked upon the glass, I then figured out what is really happening. From that one glance I know, I have to leave. For what I saw in the reflection is a thing that will forever mark in my existence. I felt it, I've seen it, and it will always hunt my sanity..
My mouth has been stitched shut.
4th time the sun reigns the sky, I'm still writing words, made some maps, and wasted many pages with sketches. Can you believe that? I can draw. But I stopped as I see the remaining blank pages are at it's peak. I'm losing hope, I still don't remember anything.
Aye, finding food and suriving this endless desert is way more easier than finding lost memories. Not to mention eating, mind you. I cut a small hole for foods and drinks. I can't cut it wide open because I lack medication and the risk of infection.
I found a small town days back. Silosia, it was called.. lively place. I never thought I will find one. Seem safe enough, even with those nasty wasters around. I bought a mask, I have to keep my face to keep out of trouble. I could be mistaken for an infected.
Before the sun hides from the darkness, I saw a group of people. Could be an elite squad from the way they move. They're so organized and diciplined, and the wasters are visibly evading them. I wonder if I could enlist as one of them. Nah, they won't accept an abomination.
I met a guy from the same group as yesterday. I knew it by the same insignia they all share. He was helping a townsfolk as I hand him a paper containing a message about enlistment. I was glad he aswered without me showing my crap, but he's obviously curious about the mask.
He said something about a pre-war device used for communication, and he couldn't procceed until I aquire the said device for further information. I knew it would be a waste asking but I tried anyway. Hell if ever I could find something like that in this pile of trash they call wasteland. Hopeless..
The pen runs out of ink, like most of the lives in this sand covered surface. Would you believe that? Even non-living things die as well. It's been a week since I have this chance to write again. I used a finely pointed charcoal to write. Luckily it's effective.
I finally learned to use guns and collected enough kinds for every occasion. The real problem is their ammunitions. I studied every sizes and their compatibility. I have to be vigilant and cautious. Proficiency is the key.
For the towns are devious and full of tricksters.
I never knew I will ever have to find this papers again. I have it! I have the pre-war technology! I have to check in one of the pages where I wrote the name. Just to make sure I have the right stuff. My heart wants to explode, similar to the one that desolates this place.
All I have to do is find the same guy, and my path will finally have a direction.
As cloudy as my mask's eyeglass. There is no sign of him. Sure I can just ask another one but I can't risk a sudden interrogation. They might want me to remove my protection or worse, speak, leading to a possible falldown.
Well then, I should keep wandering. The vegetables should be edible by now.
Re: Wasteland tales
Posted: Fri Nov 03, 2017 11:13 am
Many things happened, I made it to the faction. They.. We, called it the Brotherhood of Steel. Days ago, I finally found the guy I seek. He stated that he was on a mission that aims for the greater benefit of the faction, making him visit the towns next to never.
Upon my enlistment I met our leader, Elder Rha, sovereign of the Brotherhood. His ideals inspired me and his goals motivates me to become a better survivor, or better yet, a hero of this barren wastelands. Behind him are the pillars of our great faction, the great Paladins, Knights and Scribes.
You'll never believe what they've done after I removed my mask. Their faces made my heart pound as I looked in their eyes..
They were smiling.
All the time I thought they'll shoot me on sight, instead they reached for my arm and called me "brother". All the time I thought they'll be disgusted by my apperance, instead they made me understand that scars are the language of bravery. All the time I thought..
I will never speak again.
For how long, I don't know.. but never in my new life I tried to let a sound escape inside me. So I breathe, breathe until I am ready. I inhaled the air of determination and put my right fist before my heart. In a low growl but full of effort, I let it out..
My brothers responded with a loud salute.
The Elder ordered our specialist for my immediate facial operation. I told them to leave the scars and just fix my mouth but the doctors think otherwise. As an initiate I have no other choice.
So yes, many things happened. I may have lost many things, but the Brotherhood of Steel returned me my voice, which I can say is a big part of that many things.
This is Silent Sam writing my last log.
I never knew I could ever escape that one thing I didn't ever imagine I could get away.
And that one thing is..
The first word I wrote in this pile of papers.
Life in These Wastes
Posted: Mon Jul 09, 2018 12:42 am
It's been a long... Long time since I've seen anything so beautiful.
The little clay pot, with its soft moist soil. The way the little branch twisted up out of that soil, like a hand from a grave in the old movies I used to watch.
The little leaves waving ever so gently in the breeze...
I pour the tiny tree a splash of my water, and tuck it under one arm.
I have walked so very far for this night. Tonight I will see again my home and my family. I will see the smiles on their faces as I bring them what all of us need in these times.
Re: Wasteland tales
Posted: Sat Jul 14, 2018 5:07 pm
These are so good fictional pieces!
I just wanted to remember everyone that the MAP EDITOR is now available.
If you have an idea for a new map, or for a quest, you can download it and create new game contents
Posted: Wed Jul 18, 2018 8:20 pm
Life outside of the Vault is... Horrific, It's terrible to think that after so many years underground, The world is still reeling from the flames of the old world, the dead world I was taught through the Vault computers talked about a green world full of life. But this, Wasteland? This is hell. I've been sent out looking for a replacement water chip, If I can't find another chip.... The Vault will run out of water, and leaving isn't a choice. For a few years it's been on the fritz, but now that it's out? We have about a few months of water left, funny enough it runs out on Christmas of all things... I don't think I can write anymore right now.
Day 13: It's been almost two weeks since I've left the Vault, My jumpsuit is already full of sand, I ended up killing a maddened wastelander a few days ago... I killed a man, in the Vault that's liable to get a man exiled.. I shot him dead, one shot to the guy, and he just... He just looked into my eyes and dropped into the sand... I took his clothes, I'm currently wearing his sleavless jacket on top of my jumpsuit... And his pants are a good fit, If people heard a Vault Dweller was out here... They'd hunt me down and skin me alive trying to find the location of my home. I see a town in the distance, It's about a day or two walk from here. Max Stone out.
Day 15: I've arrived in the town I talked about. It seems to be a pre-war gas station, they call it "Silosia" I noticed that they're hospital is overcrowded, people are sitting in old chairs around a campfire towards the edge of the town, Talking about a Brotherhood of some sorts. As I write this im sitting under a canopy next to a restaurant of sorts, Nobody has even given me an eye, I'm glad yet I'm already running low on ammo, And people seem to favor blunt or bladed objects over the .39 pistol, So far I've been surviving off of cactus fruit and bug meat... I ran out of rations a few days ago, and the food here smells amazing.. I'm going to try and barter for a bowl of stew... I'm so hungry..
Day 16: It's been about a day, I'm still in town, And it seems as if a group of soldiers have arrived in town, I saw one of them talking to a man wearing an old gasmask. But most of my attention was on the man in nearly prestine condition armor, If these guys have access to pre-war Military equipment, perhaps they have an idea of where a water chip could be?
Day 30: it's been a rough couple of weeks, I ended up talking to the soldier, He's a member of an organization called the 'Brotherhood of Steel' they seem to be technological fanatics who go around helping folks, a Nobel cause in my opinion, However I wasn't able to get a replacement chip, It's currently October 7, I have two months to get back to my Vault with the replacement chip, And I can't seem to find any help out here. The majority of people I've run across have tried to kill me... I found a crashed helicopter the other day, the pilot was wearing a Military-grade flight suit... It's much more comfortable than my current jumpsuit, and it seems as if it's environmentaly sealed, Take that sand! I'm currently on my way to an old water treatment plant to the east in the mountains.. hopefully I can find a chip there.
Day 33: Damn it damn it damn it! There was a chip there! I know there was! When I arrived at the purification station, the gate had been blown open... There was a skeleton wearing a Vault jumpsuit hanging from the ceiling inside, the chip was taken and it seems as if something...someone.. had gotten...hungry... Damnit I think I'm gonna puke..
Day 40: I've heard rumors of mutants to the South, capturing and eating wastelanders and sacking caravans. A merchant I talked to yesterday was kind enough to tell me of an old Vault towards the Soundwest. Perhaps I could find a water chip there...
Day 45: The old Vault seems to be the headquarters of the mutants, However they are armed to the teeth... I ended up getting a lift to a tribal town called Deserta, The people there are very kind, and seem to have come from a far off Oasis, they're elder welcomed me with a hearty feast. The whole village attended, and the notion that they'd give me, a stranger, such hospitality brought tears to my eyes. Thanks to them I had a meal for the night.
Day 46: A group of Brotherhood troops stopped in town, One of them, they're commander I believe, Rha, was delivering a shipment of primitive ammunition for the town's muskets. I ended up having a pleasant conversation with him, The Brotherhood of Steel seem to be hell-bent on helping the people of the Wasteland, and at the same time helping to protect them from the horrors of the old world technological mistakes. I told him about the man I talked to in Silosia, and I mentioned the Mutants, He's agreed to come with me to the Vault, in exchange that they'd get access to the entirety of the spoils besides the Water chip. My own Vault does not have much water left, and this may be the only way to save it. We should be there soon, As I write we are currently encamped in a blasted husk of a town. We should be there in a few days. I'll mostly likely write again after I get the chip, But if I don't... I want this logbook to be a relic of my journey outside of the large Vault door into the wastes, I would have failed my Vault if I died now. It's getting late and I need to rest. Max Stone signing off.
Day 53: We did it, im currently staring at the water chip, A Brotherhood scribe it stitching a wound in my side, a mutant ended up grazing my torso with a Rusted motor blade of some sort. This old Vault has seen better days, The backup generators are on they're last legs, and the chip seems to be in nearly prestine condition. Fighting through the mutants took most of the day, and as we progressed I noticed that the majority of the halls were littered with the corpses of Vault Dwellers... They've been dead for quite some time, but I think the mutants are the one that killed them.. Rha talked to me afterwards and handed me the chip, He somehow knew I was from a Vault. And told me I was welcomed to join the Brotherhood, they themselves took a few casualties. But Rha had taken note of my determination in battle, I'm honestly touched. Yet I need to get back... They don't have much time at all, and it's going to be a very long walk home... I'm signing off for now, one day of rest and I need to get moving.
Day 67: The Vault has days of water left, I've arrived in Silosia once more, I've been walking day and night, and although I haven't slept straight since my time in the Vault, I'm meer days away from home, soon I'll be sitting in my quarters, drinking a cup of hot coco alongside my fellow Dwellers. Home sweet home...
Day 70: Home, The Vault. Im finally back, The Overseer met me up in the airlock. He vigorously shook my hand and welcomed me home, he was curious of how the outside world was, Noting my wound he would've wanted to know how bad it was out there... I was honest, I told him how bad it was out there. How much death and despair was outside. Yet I told him of the hope I saw for the new world, of my friends in the Brotherhood. Of the kind Village elder. I then pulled out the water chip and I handed it to him, He looked into my eyes and just kept staring for what seemed like forever, Taking it gently he handed it to a technician who began to immediately head down to the water purifier. As I write this the anger in my blood is already beginning to boil, He looked me in the eyes and told me I needed to leave, that although I had saved the Vault. I would be dooming it if I stayed, that if I stayed I'd be inspiring others to venture outside the large Vault door. That an entire generation would be thrown away if I were to remain... I was exiled to the Wasteland, A hero yet homeless, I had wanted to shove the barrel of my pistol in his gut and wanted to pull the trigger...yet in that moment I realize I'd go down the same path as those in the Wasteland, that I'd be no better than the man I killed at the start of my journey, Turning around I walked out of the door. The entirety of the time the Overseer watched me, he watched me till the heavy Vault door shut for the last time in hopefully awhile... I've saved my Vault, yet I must go. These words will ring in my ears till the day I die, and right now. All I can do is continue. I'm going to go back to the Brotherhood and ask if I can join them, My Skills would be better useful easing the suffering of those dying every day in the wastes. What is it that Rha and his Brothers screamed in battle?
- Max Stone, Signing off.
Re: Wasteland tales
Posted: Sat Aug 25, 2018 4:28 am
Not sure how long it's been, but I know its what I've always been doin'... Killing bugs, collecting cactus fruits, scaving for any junk I can find. Then when I'm out of energy, near death, I drag it all back to Silosia for a few chips to trade for food, clean water, and medical supplies. A never ending cycle that seems to go on forever. At least it's a bit easier than it was in the beginning....
Life has gotten easier lately. I know the good spots to check for valuable items, where to stay away from. Plus the few extra chips left over from my runs have added up over time, allowing me to buy a nice scimitar that showed up in the shop one especially hot day. I've grown very fond of this sword, it provides for me. I'm traveling the farthest I've ever gone before, not as many meds are needed when things die quicker. Maybe I'll go south one of these days...
Everyone in Silosia looks at me crazy when i mention going south. "Only crazies down there!", they say. I should've listened. Or maybe I'm just crazy? It started out simple enough, the cactus were very giving, with ripe fruit a plenty. Things went south when I came upon a small group of buildings though. I came around the corner to a campsite, firepit still warm. No fire, but the coals were still smoking. I looked up to check my surroundings when I saw him. Ugly fella, his skin falling off, came barreling around the corner arms just flailing wildly. I jumped back a few steps and drew my sword. A few good hits with the ole scimi and he was down for the count. The guy was already falling apart, so he was like butter for my sword. Just when I was about to loot the rags, BAM! Two more of them, the closest one landing a solid hit on the back of my head. I traded a few blows with each of them, downing one of them quickly. For everyone one I cut down it seemed that their group doubled. As if they were squeezing out of the mountians that surrounded this small compound. I quickly became outnumbered, like they were coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. I took my chance when I saw an opening and bolted back for Silosia. With some quick moves and a good stunning punch, I was able to make it away from the group of them and start back to Silosia. The lepers chased me for a bit, but once Silosia was in view they ended their pursuit. A closer call than I was comfortable with, I vomitted more than once on my way back...