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The Queen Marches to Kingsland; Quasi-Travel RP | Solo
Topic Started: Oct 19 2016, 02:46 AM (118 Views)
Golgotha
Member Avatar
I could live in a hole
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
There are a hundred different stories about the Killem Fields of Texas. The Tribal Confederacy—whom speak a form of Commanche—call the place Taabe-kʉh, which translates roughly as "The Sun's Teeth", perhaps due to the tooth-like arcs of lightning that tear through the land, even on the infrequent clearest of days. They say that their Sun God once fell to the Earth there to fight a giant called Piaichi whom was roaming the world, eating all of Mother Nature's animals she could catch. The Sun God battled her for five days and five nights until at last he realised she could not be bested. Instead, he summoned the power of the stars and cast a mighty spell to trap her in a prison made of pure energy. Even the logicians and scientists of Neo-Texas whisper that the place is cursed. Caravans traverse in an bow around it, raiders camp out on its farthest outskirts to avoid being caught by superstitious Rangers, even deathclaws will not walk through the inhospitable terrain. Furthermore, the only way into the Killem Fields from the east is to negotiate a narrow corridor between the irradiated Buchanan Lake and the stagnant waters of the meandering Colorado River. Lidie had decided that rather than take a detour north of the lake that would add days onto her travels and run the chance of facing a Confederate Remnant patrol, she would take this pass.

Even though she had barely walked eight miles since leaving the Temple slavers, her Mapulator was beginning to glitch out; a worrying omen of things to come perhaps. Although the crude contraption did not run with anything as sophisticated as GPS, the electrical circuit boards were sensitive to the growing electromagnetic forces leaching out from the Killem Fields. She was not yet close enough to see them, but she had heard from one of the farmers in a tavern she'd visited before she left town, that at night the sky was lit up with the ghostly green hues of staccato aurorae.

"I'm tired." Came a now all-too-familiar whiny voice somewhere behind the raider woman. "My legs hurt. Also my hands hurt, you know, from having them beaten and all that—"

Lidie had until now tried her damndest to block his consistent moaning out of her mind; she was worried that if she turned on him now she might brutalise him so severely he'd be a write off. After the considerable amount she had spent of him, this was the absolute worst case scenario. Unfortunately for both of them, her final mote of patience had evaporated into the purple tinted expanse of sky above them. She turned on her heels and marched towards Gillian whom suddenly became fantastically quiet.

"I swear on all the spirits of the dead, if you so much as grunt at me again I am going to bludgeon your mouth with a rock until you're shitting teeth. There is at least an hour of sunlight left, so we're going to keep walking for an hour. When the moon is up, we'll make camp somewhere."

Gillian opened his mouth to speak but Lidie raised a solemn index finger and twirled it around at him. Thinking better of it, he instead decided to take heed of her orders, for now. The raider woman yawned and stretched, lifting her long, sinewy arms up into the air, revealing her pale white stomach as her armour hiked up on her shoulders. She noted how skinny she was getting with the constant marching and as if on cue, a noisy rumbling emanated from within her. She patted her abdominals and scanned the distance. The lands west of Killeen were flat and expansive; apart from the occasional stunted tree or time-flattened ranch, there was truly almost nothing to see. Almost being key however; there was one landmark that stood out, a few miles off down the highway she had been traipsing along. A tall, narrow structure that jutted up from the earth and speared the sky. It might have been nothing more than a crumbling factory tower, but Lidie decided it was their best bet for a night's refuge and perhaps a bite to eat. They were headed ever further away from the fertile south and the Gulf city states and it showed in every facet of their journey. The land was becoming more parched, more a uniform russet-grey, the raider realised they would have to take on water and stock up for their journey to the Killem Fields; there would certainly be nothing good for them there.

"Come on then, slave," she said, pointing towards the singular landmark, "let's crack on 'n see what's over there."
Lidie Rider: Level 3 Raider
Age: 25-28
SPECIAL: 6.9.7.4.6.6.3 Condition: [x][x][x][x][x][x][x][x][x][x]

Weapons: Post War Musket (tier 1) Tribal Sword (tier 2) Flash bang x1 snub-nosed revolver x1
Clothing: Basic Raider Armour (tier 2)
Equipment: large hide x2 medium hide x1 psycho x3 gnarled root x1 mapulator 300, secret holotape, pre-war photo, hair gel, x1 bobby pin

Kills 12

Companion: Ghilian Kheroseen.
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Golgotha
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I could live in a hole
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
As the duo drew closer towards the structure, it became evident that the tower was some sort of satellite array. The crisscrossed metal was warped and rusted; part of it had come clear away as the heavy bolts holding it together dissolved under the impossible climate of the post-apocalyptic south. Nevertheless, it remained imposing enough that they had been able to make it out from miles away. Lidie imagined that there had been a time when this village was more built up. It was desolate now, empty and most buildings were flattened. Still, the place would make a good refuge for the night. The sun was already settling down beyond the distant western mountains; the last escaping rays of pink and purple plunged the world into a melancholy twilight. The nocturnal monsters of the wastes would soon awaken from their solar slumber and the raider doubled her pace, forcing Gillian to limp alongside.

A gunshot rung out somewhere ahead of them. Instinctively, Lidie dropped onto her belly. The slave-cum-mechanic stood stock still meanwhile, and was brought forcefully to the floor as his owner slammed her palm into his calf, sweeping him down alongside her. He gave a muffled groan but remained fairly silent. Two more shots were discharged followed immediately by a salvo of machinegun fire. Lidie scanned around her, trying to assess where they were being attacked from. Faintly, she could make out bursts of light climbing up the satellite mast like fingers from somewhere below. Although a clear view was obscured by the remains of some pre-war housing, she supposed the shooting was coming from around there.

Swiftly, she leapt back up into a prone position and—without checking to see if Gillian was following—made her way towards the closest building: a barn perhaps one hundred or so yards forward. The slave gave a brief thought to running in the opposite direction, but realised he was hopelessly ill-equipped to survive even a day on his own. With a roll of his eyes he heaved himself up and hobbled over towards Lidie. There had been a brief interlude in the noise, but just as Gillian pressed up against the wall of the barn, more gunfire exploded into the night. By now she had realised the pair were not being attacked, and had instead been caught up in someone else’s skirmish. With a grin, she grabbed her slave by the shoulder and sprinted forwards towards the tower.

They drew up close enough so as to be within a few houses distance, but still remained obscured and as yet undetected. She could hear shouting above the gunfire and realised she was near enough that they would very quickly find themselves involved. She drew her revolver from out of her pocket and edged forwards along a narrow alley between a small cluster of dilapidated shacks.

“Loop around! We’ll cut them off from behind as well!”

A man wearing a tatty black leather jacket beneath a pauldron and greaves darted into the side street. He had only a moment to realise Lidie was there before she levelled her pistol with his face and squeezed the trigger. She hadn’t shot a gun for weeks, perhaps months, and the blowback shocked her. Nevertheless, the bullet propelled itself straight through the man’s nose and exploded out of the back of his head. He sunk to his knees and stared agonisingly as blood gushed from the hole in his face before collapsing forward, crimson liquid pooling around him.

“What the fuck was that?” Someone screamed just ahead. “Go check it out, cunt!”

Lidie darted forwards into the mouth of the alley. She gave a brief look back towards Gillian, who had not moved since she fired, and was staring dumbly into the distance. Something collided with her body. She stumbled backwards and fired blindly. Someone yelled and responded with a deft blow to her face. The man that had attacked fell on top of her and as Lidie focused her gaze, he placed his hands on either side of her head. He was middle aged and moustachioed with slicked back black hair. He too wore a leather jacket but also sported a long scar that stretched from his eye down to his chin. He was scowling wildly and with ease he lifted her head up, ready to smash it down into the dirt. Panicking, the raider woman proffered a swift kick, aiming for his crotch but connecting instead with his thigh. The man paused from a moment and tried to shift his weight, but as he did so Lidie slipped an arm out from under him and slammed her palm into his face. He snorted as she pressed his nose up, but before a good view of his jugular became available he hefted his weight backwards and threw a punch which connected squarely with her chest. She groaned and watched through double vision as the man fumbled in his belt for his gun, as Gillian lumbered forward, as the man lifted his hands up to defend against the wrench that came swinging through the air, connecting with his arm and cracking his wrist.

The attacker screamed and shoved the slave away with his good hand. The other was twisted at an ugly angle and he grabbed it instinctively, his face red and covered in thick blue veins that belied his pain. Lidie meanwhile, hoisted herself up groggily and unsheathed her sword. She hadn’t been given a chance to use it yet, but now lunged forward in an attack that meant all or nothing, and sliced it across her attacker’s stomach. The man screamed as his intestines unfurled under his jacket and thick black gore soaked his shirt underneath. Lidie recoiled for just a moment, surveying the work her weapon has done, then pressed it to her howling victim’s neck, drew back and slammed the blade into it. It cleaved perhaps haflway through before sticking in his spine. A fresh spurt of blood erupted from the wound and he fell down dead at her feet.

“Oh boy, I’m calling her Sheba!” Lidie yelled in excitement, wiping the man’s remains off the sword’s edge with his jacket. “She works like a charm!”
Lidie Rider: Level 3 Raider
Age: 25-28
SPECIAL: 6.9.7.4.6.6.3 Condition: [x][x][x][x][x][x][x][x][x][x]

Weapons: Post War Musket (tier 1) Tribal Sword (tier 2) Flash bang x1 snub-nosed revolver x1
Clothing: Basic Raider Armour (tier 2)
Equipment: large hide x2 medium hide x1 psycho x3 gnarled root x1 mapulator 300, secret holotape, pre-war photo, hair gel, x1 bobby pin

Kills 12

Companion: Ghilian Kheroseen.
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Golgotha
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I could live in a hole
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
The raider had scarcely paid attention to the lull in gunfire and—with a pale faced Kheroseen now in pursuit—rounded the entrance to the alley. The scale of the battle was immediately laid bare before her. Five or six dead bodies were strewn around the tower, with at least four more marauders attacking. Their opposition was a squad of embattled Librarians, hunkered down in a ramshackle fort built from sandbags and corrugated iron under the tower. They were obvious from the royal blue livery they wore, and the insignia of their organisation was painted intricately on the body armour that covered their chests. Currently, the team was pinned by concentrated machinegun fire whilst another three men scuttled towards them, closing down their position. Lidie noted the rough position of the person suppressing them, but couldn’t make out exactly where as they were shielded by a long brick wall. Nevertheless, it would be fairly easy for her to flank their position as she was stood slightly behind them all on their left.

With a grunt, she unslung her musket and pressed it into the hands of her slave. Although she did not utter a word, the message was implicit: trust. Trust in reciprocation for his rather gallant defence. In truth, Lidie also needed to off-load some weight, and although her musket had been with her for years, it was a burly weapon, and one that was increasingly inefficient as the scale of her conflicts grew ever more vast. No longer was she taking pot-shots at molerats in crumbling towns; instead she was facing down sometimes hardened combatants. Her scuffle with the University acolytes could easily have turned sour, and her musket had been more of a hindrance than a help.

Gillian took the heavy firearm in his hands and checked its sights. “This is horribly, horribly misaligned,” he said candidly.

“I’ve never had a fuckin’ problem with it,” she spat back, wiping a fleck of blood from her jaw. “I’m gonna run down there and see if I can’t take the fight to that machine gunner, once you hear me open up fire, blast away at them cunts down there.” She pointed at the group of advancing bandits, “jus’ keep ‘em occupied an’ maybe our friends over there will be able to get ‘emselves back into it.”

Before Kheroseen could so much as nod his agreement, Lidie had turned tail and was sprinting towards the hut that divided them from the heavy weapons fighter. He crossed his fingers and offered a quick prayer to Atom. The slave pens had taken a toll on him mentally, but this was another level of fear and danger. Although Lidie had taken to calling him ‘slave’, he did not feel servile. Instead, he felt like a man merely caught up in the whimsical quest of a raideress with little interest in self-preservation. He hadn’t had much chance to ask about where she was going, nor what his role was supposed to be within her plans. She didn’t seem like much of a talker. There was no more time to ruminate on this though, as the sound of two gunshots exploded from the direction Lidie had sprinted off in. Sighing, he brought the musket up to his shoulder, thanked goodness it was already loaded, and fired.

As she had rounded the building dividing her from the machine gunner, she had expected to find one of the typical gun nuts that these sorts of marauders employed. The Neo-Goths had been no different to any other raider group; anyone with heavy weapons was often a tweaker, crazy, or both. The sort of person everyone was so scared of upsetting that they could leave their gun outside their tent all night and come back the next day to find no one had stolen it. What Lidie actually saw, stretched the archetype to its limit. Firstly, he was a she, and crazy yes, but also fairly astute. She watched from behind as the woman squinted down the sight of her Browning, before unloading a few dozen shots at any Librarian who so much as raised their head. Unfortunately, her most recent barrage found a target and the woman whooped loudly as the entire left side of a young acolyte practically exploded into a spray of flesh, blood and bone. Lidie had been prepared to simply unholster her pistol and fire a shot off into the back of the gunner’s head, and although her pause had directly led to the death of a boy whom was perhaps no older than nineteen, she felt fascination more than regret. This woman was sat on a desk chair that groaned under her considerable girth, and chewed lazily on the end of a cigar in-between her explosive volleys. She must have stood at about six-foot-tall, and was definitely closer to four-hundred pounds than two-hundred. Her arms were covered in DIY tattoos and she sported long, rather luxurious brunette hair, neatly pushed up into a bun.

Recovering from her moment of starry-eyed obduracy, Lidie flicked the safety catch on her pistol and pointed it at the back of the woman’s head. “Probably better put that gun down now so I don’t have to put a bullet in you.”

The lady froze for a moment. Lidie watched her physically tense before her gloved hands fell away from the Browning. Slowly, and with considerable protestation from her chair, she swung around to look at whomever had put a stop to her fun. When she caught sight of Lidie, a broad grin spread across her face. “You gotta be fuckin’ me! What’s a pretty thing like you doing holding a gun to my face?”

Lidie tense her jaw and ran her finger heavily along the trigger, curiosity quickly evaporating away, leaving only a sediment of irritation behind. The heavy-set marauder couldn’t have been older than twenty-five, but talked to Lidie as if she was a child.

“You’re outnumbered, surrender now while ya’ still can. We’re already mopping up yer’ mates!”

“Oh, hun I’m not too fussed if you kill a coupl’a my boys! There’s plenty more back at camp ready to fight for their Momma!”

Lidie watched from out the corner of her eye as one of the Librarians sniped a marauder that had been trying to outflank the tower. The bullet had just glanced the man’s face, ripping his cheek clear away in the process. He crumpled down and screamed for a moment before another succession of shots wormed along the ground towards him, ultimately plunging into his chest. He fell silent.

“Two of ‘em left.” Lidie spat, “they’re not doin’ a great job are they? Me ‘n my slave caught you well off guard.”

“You sure did, puddin’!” The behemoth woman replied cheerily, “you did real good! Unfortunately, I really can’t stay and talk, you see, I personally mowed down two of their men and I feel like they won’t be taking ‘ole Big Bessy prisoner for that.”

Before Lidie could protest, Bessy turned around, slung the Browning over one shoulder as if it was weightless and—with her free hand—produced a grenade, thumb wedged tightly into the pull-ring.

“Now, I guess you’d really better go ahead and get back to your friends, ‘cos I’m telling ya’, I’d much rather go out with a bang than a whimper,” her smile cracked open and a bout of deep, noisy laughter erupted forth, “have you seen the fuckin’ size of me? There’d be blood an’ guts flying for miles around!”

Lidie eased her finger off the trigger of her pistol and hesitantly lowered the weapon. “Fine. You can go.” She motioned with her gun and Bessy offered one last dimpled smile before squeezing past her to walk off eastwards, as if nothing had ever happened. Lidie watched carefully as the waddling raider dipped behind a half-collapsed house. She had noticed the firing around the radio mast had stopped, wondered if she had just made a mistake. There was neither Librarian nor marauder to be seen. An engine belched into life; a low pitched repetitive grumble. The raider tensed, then watched dumbfounded as Bessy flew back into sight astride an armoured motorbike, covered in illiterate graffiti. It sped off along the road Lidie had walked in on, gaining speed as it shrank into the distance. She wondered whether the massive woman was headed towards Temple. She wondered if she might ever find out herself.

“Hey you! Over there by the fire hydrant, put your gun down right fucking now!”

Lidie swung herself away and jumped up against what remained of a brick wall. Peering around, she saw—much to her dismay—a squad of University soldiers advancing towards an altogether panicked Gillian.

“Wait!” She screamed, lunging out from her cover and waving her hands madly above her head, “don’t kill him, he was fucking expensive!”
Lidie Rider: Level 3 Raider
Age: 25-28
SPECIAL: 6.9.7.4.6.6.3 Condition: [x][x][x][x][x][x][x][x][x][x]

Weapons: Post War Musket (tier 1) Tribal Sword (tier 2) Flash bang x1 snub-nosed revolver x1
Clothing: Basic Raider Armour (tier 2)
Equipment: large hide x2 medium hide x1 psycho x3 gnarled root x1 mapulator 300, secret holotape, pre-war photo, hair gel, x1 bobby pin

Kills 12

Companion: Ghilian Kheroseen.
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Golgotha
Member Avatar
I could live in a hole
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
The man shouting at Gillan reeled at the sudden interruption and two of the acolytes who had previously been watching the slave now spun their attentions to Lidie as she charged towards them.

“Stop! Just hang on one fucking second!” She gasped between breaths and she closed the distance between her and the group, noting without care as half the team now trained their guns on her.

“Who under the North Star are you?” The man yelled, running his hands down his jowls in desperation, “for gods’ sake, can we not go fifteen minutes without something weird happening here?”

“I’m the one who saved you from those marauders you prick!” Lidie retorted.

A few of the soldiers lowered their guns in confusion, the man snorted. “You saved us? I think you’ll find we had the situation under control, how do I know you’re not with—”

“No way, that fat fucker with the machine gun was picking your lot off one at a time, you had three guys on your left surrounding you, how many lads died just while I was here? Three?”

“She’s telling the truth,” a woman who had previously been pointing a powerful looking sniper rifle at Gillian now piped up, “I saw her come from that alley over there while Bess was pinning us down, before you called me from the tower…”

Lidie walked over to the slave-mechanic and casually removed the musket from his grip before slinging it over her shoulder. “Huh, you’ve met her before?”

“Met her? Not exactly,” the man intervened, “Bess is the leader of a local gang. I say gang…they’re more of a regional power to be honest—”

“She has gun nuts, psychopaths and jet junkies flocking to her banner. She used to be a prostitute in the Austin ruins apparently,” the sniper glared at the man, whom judging by his stately regalia, Lidie supposed was her superior. “Our intel says she was a prostitute in Austin at some point. Then there’s a pretty big gap in our records. After that, well, she outgrew the Temple slavers both metaphorically and literally. She’s been harassing our positions for months now. We’ve been paying her off with tribute since we can’t spare anyone from the Kingsland base but once our esteemed Monsignors decided this place was no longer of any use to us, they stopped the cash flow. Didn’t think to pull us out first of course—”

“That’s enough Uma!” The man snapped. “Let’s get loaded up, take the bodies back for burial and head back before we lose all light.”

“Pardon, did ya’ say you’re from Kingsland?” Lidie ignored the man and spoke to Uma, who smiled sardonically at the officer and then spoke: “we’re the University, Camp Lyndon team.”

“Well thank fuck for that! I’ve got something you guys might be interested in!” The raider strolled forward excitedly and reached into her pocket, disregarding the acolyte who reached for his pistol and levelled it with her head. She revealed the little holotape from her run-in with the University scouts back in Cameron and—after a reluctant pause—pressed it into the hands of a large African-American soldier whom stood between her and the officer.

“Right, hand it over here Leicester, let’s have a look at it—”

Lidie’s eyes suddenly widened and in a flurry, she snatched it back and held it up against her breast. “Wait! If I give it over to you now, you’ll just leave me here and then I came all this way for nothing. I’m not letting you have it, you guys have to take me and my sla—helper back with you.” She pouted and folded her arms up in an almost childish manner. Gillian noted that she suddenly looked altogether vulnerable.

Leicester turned to the officer and grinned, slinging a muscular arm around Lidie’s shoulder which threw her off balance. "Come on Monsignor, let's take her with us. How could you refuse those puppy dog eyes?" The man's voice was surprisingly soft, despite his stature.

The officer squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and groaned. "Whatever, fine, if you can get her over the bridge then good luck to you all. I'm staying here until the recon team arrive to help me wipe any data we can't keep. Don't want the Brotherhood skulking around after we've gone."

Leicester nodded and spun around on his heels, jerking Lidie with him, "come on guys, let's get going!"
Lidie Rider: Level 3 Raider
Age: 25-28
SPECIAL: 6.9.7.4.6.6.3 Condition: [x][x][x][x][x][x][x][x][x][x]

Weapons: Post War Musket (tier 1) Tribal Sword (tier 2) Flash bang x1 snub-nosed revolver x1
Clothing: Basic Raider Armour (tier 2)
Equipment: large hide x2 medium hide x1 psycho x3 gnarled root x1 mapulator 300, secret holotape, pre-war photo, hair gel, x1 bobby pin

Kills 12

Companion: Ghilian Kheroseen.
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Golgotha
Member Avatar
I could live in a hole
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Even though her mapulator was turned off, it still made the most curious buzzing sound and Lidie fretted that as she drew closer to the Killem Fields, it might malfunction beyond repair. She had been assured by the Monsignor that once they had it wrapped in a sort of foil at the base it would be protected and that, if even a hint of damage should come to it, she could bring it to a technician for maintenance. Nevertheless, she remained naturally on edge and it played on her mind. It was only as their jeep crested a hill they had been crawling up for the past three or four minutes that the raider could cast mind to something else. Principally, that something else was awe. Camp Lyndon sprawled out before them, nestled into a meandering lake peninsula and brilliantly lit by the piercing white light of massive floodlights hoisted up on poles and pylons. The water that trickled along the western wall of the compound was aglow with millions of tiny sparks that danced on the surface. Even the night-sky was brighter here; the light seemed to reflect off the occasional cloud cover and many stars were snuffed out. The only thing that pervaded against the offensive barrage of the Lyndon floodlights was the aurora that loomed above; powerful and ethereal, it ebbed and flowed like the sea, chameleonic and foreboding. Lidie’s heart raced.

A couple of acolytes caught her expression of wonderment, stared at each other and stifled laughter. The raider pulled her gaze from the jeep window and glared at them for a moment, however her predilection for argument was tempered for now by the sheer enormity of the settlement before her and so she quickly resumed her observations. The driver had approached from the north east and now swerved off the crumbling asphalt remains of the county road. For a few hundred yards they carried on off road before re-joining a newly carved gravel track that took them through a flattened and sparsely vegetated section of wasteland that led towards the Colorado River. It seemed that once there had been another town here; various hard-to-spot hallmarks gave evidence to this effect. There were linear runs of concrete interlinking with one another that suggested the remnants of pavement, or the outer concrete covering sewer pipes. Lidie queried this with the driver, who responded (without averting his gaze from the track,) that this was indeed correct, and that although little had remained from before the war, there had been sufficient building materials salvageable to build a perimeter fence around Camp Lyndon. They had seeded the place with land minds when the resource extraction works were complete, as this was the only access road to the river crossing leading into the base.

“Can’t people jus’ swim over to you?” Lidie pressed.

“They can sure as hell try!” The driver laughed in response, “the water is deceptively nice isn’t it? Unfortunately for the fish and any would-be intruders, it’s heavily acidified, not to mention irradiated. We reckon there’s a chemical leak seeping in the Buchanan Lake from a pre-war factory. In the long term we’d like to put a stop to that, but for now it works as an excellent defence, and there’s still drinkable water within the compound.”

The bridge began to draw visibly closer now. It was a modern construction made from blackened iron lengths, wide enough and strong enough—by the looks of things—for a couple of tanks to roll over at any one time. Lidie could only wonder what sort of hardware was sequestered within the camp for the need for such a feat of post-apocalyptic engineering. As they passed a pre-war sign that read, Welcome to Kingsland, Texas, the jeep slowed to a crawl. Two sentry posts rose up ominously out of the earth on the other side of the river, staring down on spindly legs. She noted that the windows bristled with machine gun barrels.

A few disinterested guards loitered around on the eastern side of the water, chatting amongst themselves whilst one peeled a cigarette out of his pocket and placed it between his lips. She noted that only one of the team wore the regalia of the University. Perhaps the actual book boys were small in number, and their military numbers were outsourced. Lidie didn’t have much time for further conjecture however, as the one definite University member drew up alongside the driver’s window.

“Evening, Brin,” the man grunted.

“It was when we set off, Librarian Enrique. Not sure you can call midnight, ‘evening’”. The officer ignored the driver’s quip and instead peered into the back of the vehicle.

“Who are these two?” He asked, his brow furrowing as he pointed squarely at the camp’s guests.

“This here’s Lidie Rider and that’n with the bandaged hands is her err…servant, one mister Gillian Kheroseen. Don’t yah think they make a pretty couple, sir?”

Lidie folded her arms and looked away, but the Librarian was not so easily settled: “Why are they here before my fucking bridge, Brin? I’m beyond certain we’ve made it clear to everyone on site that there are no civilians to be admitted under any circumstances.”

“Welp, that’s pretty much down to the fact that she has some intel on her person that is of vast, massive, really pretty big importance to us. Sir.”

There was a moment of quiet, the sound of their exchange replaced by the subtle crackle of the jeep’s radio static. Lidie couldn’t see it, but the driver’s expression had changed from one of joviality to grave significance. She watched as the Librarian seemed to crumple slightly under its weight.

“Let ‘em in then,” he hollered, startling Gillian who had managed to nod-off and was—up until that moment—resting his head heavily on Uma’s shoulder.

One of the mercenary types who had been sucking away on his cigarette wandered languidly over to a manual barrier and hoisted its long red and white striped arm up into the air. Brin pressed down on the accelerator and rolled over the bridge, exchanging a mock salute with the guard. Lidie proffered once last glance at the squad vanishing into the dusky blackness behind them, and the hills beyond, before refocusing her gaze upon Camp Lyndon, and the roughly seven-mile-long perimeter wall that segregated it. She felt as if they were entering another world.

“Do you know what’s on that holotape, Lidie?” Leicester asked in his typical gentle tone. “Anything about what’s down here?”

The raider shuffled awkwardly in her seat as the memory of the acolytes she personally killed to get the tape flooded back to her. She was still wary as to whether they might cotton on to the fact that she was the cause of their absence, even if it had been countless months ago.

“Honestly I dunno, big man. The guy what gave it to me jus’ said if I run it here there’d be a reward, an’ that you guys would need it for your war with the Brotherhood.”

“Shit man, what if it’s pre-war tech? Or maybe there’s a Brotherhood bunker right unna’neath us. What if the higher-ups have us here to make sure we’re right on their front door? Man, I heard they can whip up dust storms to conceal their bases, but what crazy shit do they got to create all this haywire mess?”

“It’s not going to be a Brotherhood base, Leicester. There’s no organisation in Texas that would spend so much energy on defending themselves, or even could if they wanted to. Why not just drop a few hundred land mines and make-do if it was Brotherhood?” Uma piped up, gesticulating enigmatically with her hands.

“I dunno, man. You know John from Oxford Team? He saw a Brotherhood Paladin when he was on the frontlines. He says that Paladin was ten-foot-tall and carried a gun he never seen before. One that fired blue bolts of lightning tha’ exploded people.”

“John sniffs glue and eats ants. I wouldn’t listen too much to him. Look, the truth of the situation is we don’t know what’s on that tape, and we can’t know. Not until we can give it to Monsignor Ducal.”

The jeep passed over a bump in the road that jolted its passengers and Lidie realised just how queasy she was getting. The wall was drawing close enough now that she could make out the sentries posted on top of it. The actual structure itself was fairly awe inspiring when compared to the typical ramshackle buildings that dotted Neo-Texas. It stood about thirteen-foot-high, with towers built into it every few hundred yards. It was constructed mostly from a combination of concrete and brickwork, there were a few areas where one could tell the builders had run out of materials, and in these sections there were tangled masses of razor wire, stacked up in rolls, secured in place with iron poles. She noted that these spots were much more heavily defended as well; guards were tramping up and down, hands occupied with rifles and shotguns.

“Halt!” A voice boomed from a loudhailer somewhere a dozen yards ahead. Brin brought the vehicle to a halt and turned to face his crew.

“All right ladies and gentlemen, thank you for riding the Book Boy Express today, it’s been a pleasure to drive you to your destination. Please leave the jeep from the exits to your left and right, and proceed in an orderly fashion, single file towards the gates ahead.”

Leicester grinned and Uma gave a polite clap. The other two acolytes simply grunted their thanks and hopped out of the vehicle. As they did so, a spotlight was cast upon them and Lidie shielded her eyes with her forearm. The light scalded her retinas, even through her eyelids, and Gillian voiced his concern as he stumbled forward, blind.

“What do we do?” Lidie yelled to Brin over the noise of the jeep’s engine.

“Carry on down there, follow Uma, she’ll take you for processing and let the higher-ups know you’re here.”

“What then?”

“Who knows! Maybe you’ll end up becoming a Librarian! I’m sure Fate is smiling down upon you for trekking all the way out here to help us, she takes care of those who do good to others.”

Lidie grimaced and headed towards the maw-like gates ahead of her. She wondered whether she would receive better courtesy than that which she had afforded those two lovers and their mole rat back near Hearne.
Lidie Rider: Level 3 Raider
Age: 25-28
SPECIAL: 6.9.7.4.6.6.3 Condition: [x][x][x][x][x][x][x][x][x][x]

Weapons: Post War Musket (tier 1) Tribal Sword (tier 2) Flash bang x1 snub-nosed revolver x1
Clothing: Basic Raider Armour (tier 2)
Equipment: large hide x2 medium hide x1 psycho x3 gnarled root x1 mapulator 300, secret holotape, pre-war photo, hair gel, x1 bobby pin

Kills 12

Companion: Ghilian Kheroseen.
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Cewebwalz
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Henshin a go-go baby
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Welcome back Golgotha!

Grammar and spelling wise I didn't notice ubiquitous errors, I read this RP twice and nothing jumped out to me as really awkward or anything like that. The intro steeped the role play in religious and historical context, and the roleplay that followed seemed to be mainly concentrated in its role as a introduction to what you want to do later in terms of exploring what you established. I was a little disappointed that the really verbose vocabulary you used in setting description throughout the role play didn't also get strung into the rest of your writing. "Staccato aurorae" for instance, then it all became a lot more practical and down to earth in terms of word choice after you jumped into the role play itself.

The dialogue seemed okay but really off putting in terms of characterization, Liddie transformed from a cruel slavedriver to congenial friend of the librarians a bit quickly, although you can say that that's just code switching. She seems more polite to the raider general with the machine gun then she does to her slave, although she is actively trying to murder the enemy raider. I did like your pick for the villain however, I was tempted to write some in content juicyness related to her in the opening salvo of your grade, but it really seemed like you wanted to utilize her later down the road.

I felt like vehicles were a bit too prevalent with the jeep and the motorcycle, but both the groups that owned those cars seemed believable enough. The Brotherhood name drops were insignificant, but you tied them in as almost horror story monsters with the description of a paladin which was good. Not sure why Gillian was so positive towards Liddie when he could've revealed that he was a slave to the librarians, but it's clear that you're going to do something character development wise with these two.

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Hair Jelly That guy with the slicked back hair and mustache wasn't naturally suave, and you don't have to be either! New wasteland formula in the prewar tin, useful for disguises and trading.

Big Hide Money makes the world go round, and this seemed like a round little squirrel indeed if it got turned into a hide this big.
Jesse Winters - Penitentiary Pugilist
8(+2).5.7.5.5.8.4, Level: 4 -HC-

Grace Van Vliet - Indie Incinerator
5.7.7.5.5.4.7, Level: 3 -HC-
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Lmgthev:� Like tbh I agree CP is not the golden boy at all
Lmgthev:� You're like John Candy from Cool Runnings
Lmgthev:� Washed up has been who teaches the newcomers the trade� :D

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"What is Adderal, anyhow?" - Funky Fan
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