The Broken Banks [Closed] [M] [Slow]

Walter Ambrosius sighed as the Stormtroopers went on. He had been expecting this to be perfectly fair, but it was still a tad bit annoying. The Magician began to play with his cards while he listened to the one man who said they could not get an audience with the Fuhrer. Walter disagreed. But he -knew- they'd be getting an audience with their leader, the 'how' of it was what he was currently working out in his head. His eyes shifted over to Bronwen, and he gave her a look from underneath the shadows of his hood.

"Bronwen, it appears as if they need further convincing to allow us in. Despite the fact that we are quite obviously -not- tribal's by our grasp of the old tongue, and despite the fact that we are dressed head to toe in power armor. Also by the fact that we haven't attempted to murder their guards for their 'shiny weapons'. Alas, such is how the world turns I suppose."[/font] He spoke to her calmly before returning to his cards. Walter and Bronwen tended to alternate on who handled the dealings with the tribal's, and it was clear by that that he intended to allow her to try.

But he wanted to try first.

"Brave Sir Knight waving our banner, feel free to come back! I'd prefer them not to think we are trying to take their territory."[/font]

Then, he looked over at the Stormtrooper's at the gate. "Surely you veteran soldiers who have bravely fought against the savages of the world that we are not tribal's. Honestly, it is obvious at a glance that you are all gifted for telling tribal's, so what about us makes it seem that we spend every afternoon sacrificing captives to our evil gods?"[/font] He called over to them, shuffling the cards in his hands.

"Is it the hood? Or the blades? Well, I assure you, we choose not to use your weapons because where we are from, -they- are considered primitive. Allow that to sink into your minds for a bit."[/font]

[The War Room]
[Nachzehrer, Abermale Woodlands]

Commandant Volker stood in the War Room. It was a dark and dusty cavern of a room, cobbled together from half a pre-war silo and patches of corrugated metal. A single blining light bulb illuminated the room, powered by a small humming generator in the corner. Dominating the room was an enormous table – more of a tree turn really – with pre-war Nazi symbols and German phrases carved into the bark. A giant map was spread across the table, large, pre war and yellowing with curled brittle edges. It had been intended for tourists, as long-destroyed restaurants and hotels were marked and listed on the right hand side.

The man at the table placed caps along the map in certain locations. He was a quiet, unassuming and somewhat overworked-looking man in his fifties. Beads of trickling sweat upon his brow suggest that the humidity of the Banks was not to his liking. The man wore the ancient, moth-eaten uniform of a SS-Hauptsturmführer – formerly a captain’s rank. This particular uniform had once belonged to Klaus Barbie, the Butcher of Lyon and one of Hitler’s most famously decorated soldiers. All those years behind glass in Tennessee had taken its toll on the fabric. It was now held together with chain, jingling with every little movement like Marley’s Ghost. The thick Swamp Thrasher coat added a tiny creaking sound too. The man continued to study the map, lost to the world.

“Heil, Mein Fuhrer. Power armored soldiers were seeking an audience with you. I gave them the proper response that untermenschen deserve. I told them to leave or be killed. They will be no issue. They will die like all filth.”

For what seemed like an eternity, the Fuhrer became very still. “Not Wolves then”, he said softly. “Interesting. I had expected them by now. Although I suppose it’s too late to change the…protocol”.

The Fuhrer stood up and wheeled round to face Volker, staring at the man as if they’d never even met. “Several suits of power armour find their way to our doorstop, just as we find ourselves on the brink of war. Yet you decide to send all this valuable technology back into the wasteland whence it came.”

The Fuhrer began pacing, swishing past Volker with a swish of leather and a clink of chain. He approached the sideboard, where he poured himself a glass of two hundred year old brandy. Little barred clouds of alcohol formed in the bottom of the filthy glass.

“Oh Volker.” The Fuhrer chuckled ruefully. “You are the strongest Commandant in my Cabinet, but sometimes your passion gets the best of you.” He finished the brandy in a child-like gulp, and turned to face the Commandant. “You will return to our guests. You will apologise for your mistake, and insist that the Fuhrer would be most happy to receive them. I must go to make preparation. Go now. Raus.”

The Fuhrer almost glided out of the War Room into Nachzeher Compoud, but lingered by the door. He did not turn round. “One final thing Volker. If you ever make a decision on my behalf again, you will be joining the remaining Bandits in the Rad Chambers.”

The Fuhrer left the War Room.

[Abermale Woodlands]
[The Gates Of Nachzeher]

Major Lange nodded beningly as Volker walked away. Then he turned his attentions back to the Knights. The more the Magician spoke, the more Lange's expression darkened significantly. Allow that to sink in. The nerve of these Wastleanders. “I’d sooner allow a Blitzkrieger power fist to sink into your skull.” Lange snapped. “You are the strangers here, Untermenschen, not us. We are not the ones who waltzed into your territory demanding an audience with your leader, so I’ll caution you to watch your tongue.” As if to reinforce the point, the Major raised a hand high above his head, drawing the Knight's attention to the line of soldiers camped out upon the walls of Nachzeher, laser rifles in hand.

“Do you think a tribal is defined by a spear and a loincloth?" Lange asked the Knights in general. "They are cunning and predacious, with collaborators in the strangest of places. Spotting them can be a frustratingly difficult task, as the Fuhrer knows best of all what the human heart is capable of once civilisation and dignity are abandoned.” Lange took out an old cigarette from his thrasher skin coat and lit it. "But this is all besides the point".

The Blitzkriegers flanked round Lange. With a click of the Major's fingers, the gates opened with a creek, allowing the many soldiers within to gaze upon the strange newcomers.

"You are not welcome here. If you do not leave our territory, the weapons of our army, however primitive you deem them to be, will be sufficient to plant your little group in the earth."

Lange took a few steps back, sneering like a man holding all the cards.



Zoller was starting to like Scarlett. Not only was she clearly very brave, but she was giving just the right amount of information whilst holding back some of the finer details. The Contractor wouldn't know it, but not revealing everything about the Psyker probably saved her life. Had she betrayed the Wolves outright, Zoller would have shot her on general principle.

"I.. know of a way into the Mansion." At this revelation, the Commandant clapped his hands together. Finally after all those months. A clear way into Darwin's control centre. The Wolves' Den. However, the news was never going to be all good.

"I don't know who the mutant is. Rumor is that it's locked away when not in use."

“As I thought." Zoller replied, unpeturbed. "It’s a fair bet that …Darwin… would keep the mutant close to him. I doubt either one of us could conceal the truth from your Chieftan’s pet freak.” Zoller glanced to the dog sleeping by the wall and smiled softly. He bent down, and stroked the animal, feeding it jerky from his trouser pocket. “Which is why we require a silent partner.” Zoller stood up, and reclothed himself. As the Commandant smoothed the wrinkles in his clothes, Scarlett spoke about what gave him away on the street . He couldn't help but smile.

"Well... Zoller... It's my job to notice things. You walk differently than most Wolves. Your steps are more deliberate. Your body language is too tight for a comfortable Wolf. They are taught exercises during training that emphasize flexible, natural, and fluid motion."

"Yes I expected that to be a problem." Zoller said casually. He bent down besides Scarlett, and stretched his arm. There was a loud resounding click of bone that even overpowered the music on the radio. Zoller flinched a little, but it was only brief. "The Storm Troopers believe exactly the opposite." He explained. "Not only is slouching commonly associated with tribals or bestial subraces, but the Troopers have adopted the marches of our ancient predecessors. All soldiers of the Reich must stand, walk and fire in a certain way. Our bones are broken and re-set until this becomes second nature." He smiled. If this were a date, this would clearly be filed under "sweet" or "awkward moment." Zoller stood up again. "So you can imagine how difficult relaxation is."

There was somewhat of a lingering tension in the room that had nothing to do with kidnapping. It was beginning to annoy Zoller, and he wondered if Scarlett could feel it too. "You're like me." She said. "Like Darwin. The Old World is still a part of us."

"I certainly hope so." Zoller replied. "I certainly hope so." A bristling silence hung in the air. Only the dulcet tones of the radio's long dead song filled the room. When he could bare it no more, Zoller walked over to the dog. He woke the animal with a gentle ruffle of its fur, and then opened the door. He extended his arm, ready for Scarlett to take.




"Meatpoochie, Unleash Hell!"

Hauser smirked. "Unleash hell?" What a fucking i..."

It was over in moments. A hail of laserfire streaked through the bushes, taking at least two fifths of Hauser's skull with it. The gaping wound, already sealed by the extreme heat, was no longer bleeding but sizzling slightly as orange embers danced on the exposed skull. Several meters behind, Mussolini screamed as he watched the body of his Staff Sergeant fall to his knees, and finally to the ground. So great was the shock, that Mussolini barely reacted when the body of Muller hit the ground next to him. The soldier merely whimpered and hugged the ground, flat on his belly.

Hauser was dead. Zoller would be furious. How would they ever get into Manteo? His bloodlust had killed them. Hauser's long and constant war with everything around him had finally claimed him. Worse still, Muller, one of the strongest of their number, lay fallen mere feet away.

Mussolini glanced wildly around the undergrowth. By some divine feet, he saw a glimpse of Baum through the bushes. His fellow private was also flat on the ground, his plasma pistols kept tightly resting against each cheek. Their eyes met in a moment of dark understanding. Mussolini slipped the belt of pulse grenades off Muller's warm corpse, and held them up for Baum to see. Baum nodded, holding a pistol up in response. Mussolini held his breath. And pressed down on every single pulse grenade in the arsenal.

Mussolini stood up. Baum stood up. With a roar of defiance, he hurled the grenades at Robert who was keeping Ding Ding on the ground with his boot. "GOTT...MIT...UNS!" Mussolini screeched. Then Baum shot the grenade belt. And everything went white.

Once again Mussolini threw himself upon the ground, as the electrical storm raged around the clearing. The force of eight plasma grenades had created a field of lightening ignited by a single bolt of plasma, giving the forks of lightening an eerie green glow. Had Robert somehow survived? Was the Wolf dead? Could anything survive that? Had his own men even made it? Mussolini slapped these thoughts around his mind, as a flare shot upward and kissed the sky. As the flare exploded, Mussolini couldn't help but feel a little relieved.

[Coast of the Albemarle Sound]
[Currituck Caverns]

Grandma was all too familiar of the sound Amos made when he hit somebody. The old woman clicked her tongue in disapproval, and shook her head softly as the sound of soft, muffled tears washed over her like muddy water. She didn't want to make her disapproval too obvious, or embarrass Amos in front of his friends. But she never liked Amos hitting the other Natives. The Old lady was very proud of her body, but for his un-mutant-like cunning rather than his brawn. She listened to what he had to say.

"...ah jus' wanted yoo tah be safe.Me an' some ah mah boys are gunna hit the wolf-men hard tomorrow. Danks to hour friend ova dare, I lurned Wolfs are expectin' a big caravan tahmorrow. 'Spose tah be loaded with goods, un escorted by new Wolfs. We gots a radio and fizzy drank and 'splosives and many stuffs last time, momma. We gone hit 'em hard 'morrow. Choke 'em like I chokes da gators. Ah wanted yah safe, and I need somone with medicines and the healing stuffs."

Grandma stood for a while, open-mouthed. She couldn't quite believe what she was hearing, but experience had taught her to trust her ears. The Old woman raised her bone stick in a whirl and whacked Amos on the head with it.

“Idjit boi!" She wailed angrily. "Y’ain’t got da sense yoo wuz born wid!”

Pinching Amos's ear between her gnarled old fingers, Grandma dragged her son deeper into the cavern. “Wat b’comes of yo’ poor awld mama if yoo done get cho’self kilt?" She demanded, appearing to address the cavern at large. "Who’z gonna help ol’ Grandma when she a slave in Manteo wid nobody to save her?" She pointed and trembling finger at her son. "Shame own ye, Amos Moses! Fie 'n' shame"

The Old Woman paced angrily with her stick clicking upon the ground behind her. "Misser Darwin's gonna mek you pay, jes' lahk he always do! Ju always wanna go in bam bam shooty shooty, ju a bad'un Amie jes' lahk yo' daddy!"

As she was cooling down, Grandma heard Eugene introduce himself. She stumbled over to his side, and ran a hand down his face. The blind woman took in every crag of his face, stroking his hair with consideration. "He one ov us ahll riiight." she said with approval. Old Grandma perched on a rock, rolling over the situation in her mind.

"Thrashers," she said suddenly. "We mek it look laahk Thrashers done got the Wolf Men." She smiled to herself. "Yup. We mek dis look laahk in ain't wat it is."

In all the excitement, Grandma had lost track of Tigru. The Mercenary had backed away from the Conflict, and Grandma could no longer hear his breath."Misser Mercenary!" She called out into the darkness. "Me got annuver job fo' ye!"

[ Broken Banks, Chapter 4 ]
( Round 4-3 )








“I would apologise for what I said,” Cade began after a while of silence. “Though I believe I would have done you a disservice, had I kept my mouth shut. So for that reason, I will not.” He stated this firmly, whilst looking out across the land, not looking at Alpha, but keeping her in the corner of his eye.


Alpha continued silently beside him, leading her team down the broken coastal highway that ran south from Kill Devil Hills. The woman then shifted the weight of the Gauss Rifle in her gauntlets and spoke.


"Cade, I am not angry with you. Never apologize for acting in wisdom." the helmet's speaker said calmly over the evening winds. Alpha slung the energy weapon over her back and latched it to her power armor dexterously. Removing the camouflage helmet slowly, she shook her messy brown locks free of the suit's collar as she walked. Looking to her Wolf, ( all Team leaders were held responsible for their Wolves, and Alpha especially felt as if her team members were her immediate family. ) the young woman smirked. Her cracked lower lip remained slightly bloody. "You've got a keen perception to you, Cade... and a damn respectable drive in general. It's part of the reason I chose you for Alpha Team. If I hadn't, Ghost would have taken you. You're an excellent Wolf..." she said as her boot crunched across the decaying road. The Alpha Wolf stared ahead as the group continued, perhaps deep in thought.


Alpha and Ghost had very few confrontations over the years, but it was clear that neither liked the other much. A twisted rivalry had developed between the two in these last few years as tensions rose between Darwin and Alpha. Ghost had even been in line to become Alpha, when the Father had granted Lita the title instead. Alpha knew her promotion had not set well with the veteran Wolf, but she didn't really give a fuck, either.


Alpha continued, pushing her thoughts of the old Wolf from her mind with a grunt. "The truth is that you were right. Thanks." she said in the tone she used when speaking earnestly. ( A tone usually reserved for her Team. ) "We have to watch our step from now on around Darwin. He's persuaded too many Wolves into blindly worshiping him as if he were our messiah. ...even Marilyn has betrayed us." the young warrior finished. The power had finally split between herself and Darwin. It was only a matter of time before the issue reached a point of action. Alpha had made the necessary preparations.


And then her voice became the demon Alpha Team so very often heard barking orders. "Pick up the pace. I want to be in Manteo sometime tonight!" she roared back to her Wolves. Alpha Team responded by breaking into a light jog down the highway behind their leader, making good time. Big'Un scooped up the bound bandit leader. He held her carefully as he jogged, but in such a way that if she were to fight him her arm would be dislocated. Moss looked to his companion and the leader of the bandits. The Wolf removed his mask and shot Seth a nasty look. Personally, he was pissed that they hadn't executed her one the spot. Bug'Un shot Moss a look of warning. Moss grumbled and replaced his mask.


The glow of Whalebone could already bee spotted behind the great dunes to the south. Light music carried over the dunes to greet Alpha Team. Waves crashed against the beach to the east and Carrion Gulls occasionally cawed in the night.


Alpha replaced her camouflaged helmet and drew the Gauss Rifle. "Let's move." the speaker said to Cade as his team leader pulled ahead, reminding him that he was back to being a soldier.











”Rachel’s been caught? Wow. And she wants an audience with me? I’ll only talk to her if she is restrained. She is likely to try and kill me before I can divulge information to Darwin.”


"Well fear not, because you will be meeting with Darwin very shortly, my young friend. Seth isn't due to hit Manteo for another half-hour. He will ultimately decide what is to become of you, I suppose." Oxford concluded after finishing the Nuka-Cola. He tossed it towards a trash can. The bottle sailed high and shattered on the floor behind them. The Tila shook her head.


"Judas, will you escort Mr. Frederico to the observatory?" the engineer asked, giving Metal Face a bored look and stroking his mustache. The armored Wolf nodded, then took a single step towards the captive bandit. Oxford's assistant stepped away from Frederick and gave him one last sympathetic look. Behind her a computer began printing a report of some sort. She pretended to busy herself with the paperwork.


"Follow me." Metal Face said in an unpleasant tone before nodding towards the heavy bay doors. Frederick was escorted out of the Engineering Lab and down the stretching halls of the Manteo Mansion.











Thiago gave a sort of shrug to her question, as he finished a mouthful of food. “Not entirely sure. I want to make sure you’re better first. Maybe get you home, then I’ll head home. I've got a corpse in my storage closet…. A mirelurk one, I mean. Not… ya know.” He gave a sort of snort, realizing how that sentence could've sounded. “Ideally I want to get back before it starts rotting. I've probably got a few traps filled… and then also I've got the ‘Jaw to deal with. Not entirely sure what I’m gonna do with it. Butcher it I guess.” Thiago knew how much work he had on at home, though he did feel bad for wanting to go back and sort it out, whilst Jade was still hurting. “So yeah… Soon. Though. I’ve got some space, not a lot. If you need someone to look after you for a few days… I suppose you could come stay with me and the gull for a few days.”


"The Southern Shores, huh?" Jade asked in between bites. Finishing her drink, the girl hiccuped once and placed the bottle back onto the table. "I wouldn't want to be a bother, Thiago. I mean, who wants a ditzy Wolf stumbling around their house, knocking crap over and tripping booby traps?" the young woman said with a comical smirk and held up her empty bottle up as the server passed. "Really, I don't want to intrude."


"Although..." Jade said while leaning back in her chair. "I might be good at wrastlin' blueshells." the girl said with another comical smirk. "And it is just over the gate from Kitty Hawk. By the time you're ready to kick me out, hopefully the town will be back to business... and restaffed." Jade said as her smiled faded. She pushed her food around her plate with in a distant look. The man playing the guitar strummed a new tune. A Wolf bought a young contractor a beer, then slapped him on the back.


"Thiago... I was supposed to be at the gate..." Jade said in a sober tone. Behind them, a group of contractors laughed and one slapped the bar enthusiastically.


"I... I left my post." she said as a fresh Nuka-Cola was placed before her. "I'm partly responsible... what if I could have stopped that bandit who opened the gate?" the guard asked as her eyes became watery and luminescent in the bar's low lighting.


Jade finished her meal quietly. The partons of the bar continued their celebration, and one contractor had a basket of fresh blueshell cakes sent to their table on him. Jade look to Thiago, then gave the man a nod of thanks. "I'm stuffed." the young guard said to Thiago, plucking one from the basket hypocritically and taking a bite. She fought to push the darkness from her mind. "Whaddaya say we finish these tasty morsels here and our drinks, then find the hotel?" she asked, taking a swill of her Nuka-Cola.











“Ah, Orlando.” Ling smiled, turning towards the wolf who she had heard come up behind her. “Long time no see. The boys? Ah they’re good…. Well, I assume so at least. Feng and Tai are with their families. Micah and Han are god only knows where under Darwin’s orders. Cade’s with Alpha, poor guy.” Ling didn't exactly dislike Alpha, though she hadn’t actually met her, she just knew how hard she’d have pushed Cade sometimes, given her reputation. “Grey’s at home.” She smirked. “Had a girl around and thought I wouldn't notice. I hope it’s the same girl though. It’s about time he tied the knot and got outta my house already…”


"Cade has been picked by Alpha, huh?" the veteran Wolf repeated. "Ling, you've done great raisin' those boys." he continued, placing one of his gloved hands on his hip. "As for Grey, well he is your child." Orlando said, giving her a coy smile.


Ling then sighed heavily. “And then there’s Chang. I took that idiot out training, and all was good… Then we were returning home and what does he do? He sticks his foot in a puddle full of leaches.” She rolled her eyes and gave a hopeless chuckle.


“How about you? Been out of town for a while, glad to be home?”


"Yes, it's good to be back. And it will be even better to sleep in a real bed tonight instead of a hammock in the wetlands. I would have liked a better reason to return home, however... the news of Kitty Hawk is awful. Word here on the street says most of the Bandits were killed in the attack, though." The Wolf commented as he eyed Ling and stroked his short beard. "And Rachel Seth has been captured. Alpha Team is escorting her to the Mansion as we speak." the man said with a smirk. Somehow, he always knew the latest information. "My caps are bet that she hangs," he said sagely. Enemies of the Wolves were often lynched in public for their crimes against the people.


"But everyone except for Gallow Team has returned to the Banks, so the area is secure. You don't have to worry, ma'am." he said jokingly as his eyes wandered over the woman. "You look good, Ling. And the festival seems to be going strong regardless of today's weather and events. Can I join you for a drink, assuming you still find time to relax?" he asked, nodding towards the bustling center of Manteo City. His distinguished features were accented well in the light of the many lanterns and fires.











"You're a woowee!" Paxton shouted at Herb. The brother's exchanged suprised looks as Paxton was silent, then:"Good question!"


Paxton looked at Herb and Gerb, not really seeming to care that the two of them were horribly disfigured and kind of ugly. Why should it matter to him? It was their right to be ugly. Everyone should have the right to be ugly. They weren't attacking him right now, despite holding some of his unexploded grenades, which was nice. Ugly people were sometimes much more friendly than pretty people. Pretty people sometimes were real shitty folks.


"Where is this?" Paxton asked suddenly. "Why do you stupid people live out here?"


"Dis... " Herb began, taking a breath and swelling his chest proudly. A few of his ribs protruded obnoxiously. "...ish da wetlunds, sohnny. Jus' East o' the big big water, dah marby sounds, ish da Brokun Bahks." he said, looking to the east. Gulls cawed somewhere to the south, stirred by an unseen danger. The swamp was warm, despite the cool breeze sweeping west. "Ahnduh dah resin we in da swamp is cus we always is. Cahunt go on da Bahks. Dog men shoot yuh..."


Gerb suddenly jumped up from the stump, shoving a mutant grub into his mouth and smacking his fat lips. "DOGMUN BAYD!" the mutant exclaimed as if he had just saved Paxton's life with the information.


Herb rolled his eyes and returned his attention to Paxton. ( Well, not all of his attention, as he was picking his nose. ) "Yehup. Dog men live on da Bahnks. Yoo stay way fruhm der, okuy? I can tell yoo unt no dog mans. Nope!" the Native said slowly. He slipped the greneade into the pocket of his dirty overalls and called to his sibling. Gerb stumbled away from the stump and joined the two. Herb flicked something off of his finger and spoke again. "Yoo cun follow us too dah shahk? Got food! Good good n mo'!" the mutant offered, looking to the southern swamps. "Ma' dont like no smooth skinz usually, buts I wihl tell her yous just a lost won n u wants some hot foods. Ah tells her yo gon help hunt some Thrasha's tomorrows!"











William opened his mouth to answer, but turned it merely to a smile when Hardwin laughed. “Acquire? Har!” He laughed again pointing at the shape of his power helmet. “We made this. We made all of our equipment,” he said, tapping the longripper on his side.


Darwin studied the "longripper" from a distance. The idea was simple enough, but the design and quality was impressive. The longripper would prove to be an excellent tool capable of use in many ways. And the machinery that would be needed to manufacture such equipment was even more impressive. The man's thoughts turned once again to reproduction of his own armor for all the high rank Wolves, and how he might strike a deal with these new found peoples. Such a society, one as self sufficient and seemingly independent as this one, would make a useful ally. Inwardly, Darwin frowned as the speakers in his helmet went off several times. He silenced them for the moment.


“We've come this far to scout for the vault so that we can salvage it. We are constantly improving on our armor and weapons, as we learn new techniques. We have mostly stripped the city to the south of our island,” William said, tapping the spot on the map where cedar island wildlife refuge lay. “We have an excess of most metals, but coppers are harder to find, and are needed for the smaller components of the armor. We have need of a better source of supplies, and Manteo would have served this purpose well. We ourselves are just a scouting party. We have a much larger group here, at Alliance,” William said, tapping the location on the map. “They strip down anything useful in the area and send it home. We prefer areas near the river, so moving supplies from land to ship and back to Camelot does not take as long...”


William eyed Darwin for a moment, looking over his power armor. “You say the Enclave still lives. . . and that they still hold to the flawed beliefs that destroyed the world. Their technology seems perhaps even superior to our own. It is not my place to ask. . . but I expect our king will wish to know much of them, and their technology. I expect, he will wish to destroy them. It would be wise to let us know their location, and to let us study their technology that you have recovered.”


Marilyn's body language tightened as she stood beside . Had this man just asked her husband to turn over his power armor, energy weapons, and the coordinates of any know Enclave settlements? Angel could sense the alarm radiating from the blonde woman's thoughts. It didn't last long. Darwin's reaction set her at ease.


The burly man in the Advanced Enclave Armor chuckled amiably. "You would wish to destroy the Enclave, eh?" Darwin asked, walking around the covered table and to the grand map. "That would mean you would be launching the largest scale military operation since 2077. Something the New California Republic and the Brotherhood were unable to do, regardless of their numbers or technology." the man commented while studying the map. "My home base was Raven Rock, a semi-secret government facility that had existed long before the Great War of 2077. It is located here." Darwin continued, placing his armored index finger on the Capital Wasteland. "Although there will be no one to slay and no technology to salvage upon your arrival. That is, unless you posses heavy equipment like cranes, bulldozers, dump trucks, and trac-hoes. The facility was destroyed some years ago by an individual working with the Brotherhood of Steel. The Lone Wanderer, I believe the people of D.C. call him. Anyway, the facility was demolished and collapsed in upon itself, burying most of the Enclave's secrets with it." Darwin concluded, looking upwards to the impractically high ceiling. For a moment, the memories overtook him quietly.


Angel could sense Darwin's unguarded thoughts and memories leaking out from his mind. Visions of concrete hallways, brutal training rituals, rigorous schooling, and questionable morales. Images of Energy Weapons of all sorts. Visions of dominance and murder. Pictures of evil. They were visions of the Enclave, and Darwin's former life. As Darwin pushed the memories away, the guard of his mind was replaced, effectively cutting off Angel's ability to read him. Chau eyed the strangers with well-hidden distrust. Angel was his priority, and knowing their superiors used psykers made him edgy.


Turning his attention back to William, Darwin stepped away from the grand map. "There are other bases and other groups, but you will have great difficulty finding them. The mobile base is... well, completely mobile. It could be anywhere, unless the rumors of it's destruction are to be believed. Hidden bases and facilities are scattered across every state. Most of them are considered Remnants of the Enclave. Small or medium sized group consisting of the remaining Enclave soldier and technicians operating completely independently from any central leadership. Most of them are awaiting the return of the Enclave's official presence." Darwin continued, carefully watching William and Hardwin's reactions to the information. "I had heard rumors of a large base near the Great Lakes to the far north-west, but that was never verified by my fellow officers. The Enclave keeps secrets eve from it's self, William. They have gone into hiding while they regroup and restructure. Finding a single Enclave base now that they have chosen to lay low is going to be difficult, to say the least. You're better off preparing for the day they discover you."


Darwin replaced his Advanced Power Helmet and tapped it's "ear" several times. He then spoke to William, his confident and gruff voice synthesized through the helmet's speaker system. "I apologize to you for the timing of our meeting, my friends. It seems several minor issues are calling for my attention. Feel free to enjoy the mansion and it's luxuries as if it were your own. Marilyn and Ghost will see that you are attended to. There are many proper beds and facilities in this mansion. All I ask is that you refrain from attempting to enter the Vault." The man said. Nodding his head to one of the remaining guard, a cape was snapped into place on his armor. "It's been a pleasure to meet you. I hope you decide to stay so that we may have further palaver tomorrow. If you do choose to leave, feel free to return anytime as my personal guests." he said. Turning, Darwin nodded to his wife and Ghost before starting out of the room. His armor hummed quietly.


Stopping in the doorway, Darwin paused. "If you regrettably decide to leave Roanoke Island, please tell you king that I look forward to another meeting. We have much to discuss, and much to offer each other." Darwin exited the room, his black cape trailing behind. Painted dexterously in the center was a blue wolf paw sporting pointed claws. The mark of the Wolves.













Darwin exited the Observatory, his power armor carrying him swiftly into the grand hall. As he passed the approaching Frederick and Judas ( Metal Face ), he spoke quickly. "Judas, bring Frederick." Judas slung his weapon over his back and took the former bandit's wrist. Escorting Frederick with a death grip on his arm, Metal Face followed his leader down the grand hall's elaborate walkway. When they passed two tall statues, a pair of Wolven soldiers emerged. They fell in line behind Metal Face, weapons in hand. Both of them wore masks similar to Metal Face.


As they followed Darwin down the ornate grand chamber, two more Wolves approached them from a set of double doors. Helia, a Wolf in her late twenties, nodded to her superior as she joined him at his side. She walked quickly in her Light Combat Armor and held a small device in her hands. Helia adjusted her military cap and cleared her throat.


"Sir. Gallow Team has passed North Guard. They will be within sight of Kitty Hawk in an hour or two." The confident young woman said. Heir ballcap contained a head of jet-black hair, and the woman tried to avoid eye contact. The lenses of Darwin's suit had always reminded her of some great dark insect.


"Good. And Seth?"


"Alpha Team is due to arrive in fifteen minutes. Sir, Seth is the only survivor."


Darwin looked over his shoulder at Helia aND the lens cluster focused on her face. They glowed with an eerie amber that caused the young woman to widen the distance between herself and the leader of the Wolves. "And what do you mean by that, Helia?"


"Alpha Team has apparently executed her men that she was apprehended with." the Wolf said, looking down the hall as the group walked. "Victor said Alpha reported they were resisting."


Darwin did not respond, walking to a set of double doors and pushing them open. They banged lightly off the wall bumpers as he passed through and the Wolves followed. Metal Face relaxed his grip on Frederick. The group entered a room that was once an auditorium. A few soldiers stood around the room, some sitting in the old seating rows. All bowed their heads upon Darwin's passing. He nodded to them in return.


Frederick was sat in a chair in the front row. Metal Face stood behind him, his weapon in his hands. Darwin made his way onto the "stage" platform, Helia following behind like a dog.












“Idjit boi!" She wailed angrily. "Y’ain’t got da sense yoo wuz born wid!” Pinching Amos's ear between her gnarled old fingers, Grandma dragged her son deeper into the cavern. “Wat b’comes of yo’ poor awld mama if yoo done get cho’self kilt?" She demanded, appearing to address the cavern at large. "Who’z gonna help ol’ Grandma when she a slave in Manteo wid nobody to save her?" She pointed and trembling finger at her son. "Shame own ye, Amos Moses! Fie 'n' shame!"


"But Ma..." was all the mutant could manage in the exchange as he allows his mother to drag him deeper into the cavern. Her scolding cause the mutant to sulk sheepishly, something the other mutants found amusing but did not voice.


The Old Woman paced angrily with her stick clicking upon the ground behind her. "Misser Darwin's gonna mek you pay, jes' lahk he always do! Ju always wanna go in bam bam shooty shooty, ju a bad'un Amie jes' lahk yo' daddy!"


"Aww Momma..." the mutant protested. As she was cooling down, Grandma heard [Amos ask the man's identity and] Eugene introduce himself.


"Name's Eugene Hart, 'cause Ah'm alll heart." There was no laughter. After a brief moment of awkward silence and confused glances, Eugene continued.


"I hurd' yah'll needs a guy who can fix ya's up if yah'll gets huurt', and I knaw' you's already gots Grandma here burt' if yah'll need 'nother doc', Ah'm yer' man."


She stumbled over to his side, and ran a hand down his face. The blind woman took in every crag of his face, stroking his hair with consideration. "He one ov us ahll riiight." she said with approval.


Amos observed the lean mutant for a moment. Taking a step towards Eugene, the hulking stood ready to deal with any disrespect towards his aging mother. Amos did not like that the skinny mutant had pulled a gun, but acknowledged his mother;s approval. As she finished her examination of Eugene, Old Grandma perched on a rock, rolling over the situation in her mind.


"Thrashers," she said suddenly. "We mek it look laahk Thrashers done got the Wolf Men." She smiled to herself. "Yup. We mek dis look laahk in ain't wat it is." The few mutants still in the cavernous room mumbled back and forth at the idea. One of the slapped his knee enthusiastically. Another hooted.


In all the excitement, Grandma had lost track of Tigru. The Mercenary had backed away from the Conflict, and Grandma could no longer hear his breath."Misser Mercenary!" She called out into the darkness. "Me got annuver job fo' ye!"


Tigru adjusted his rifle sling as well as his back pack. Walking into the dim light of the central cavern, the mercenary looked to Frederick, Amos, and the other lingering mutants before joining Grandma near Amos. Tigru made no verbal reply. He knew the woman well enough to know her sense of hearing was incredible ( and thus knew she had heard him approach across the stone floor ), and she could likely smell him as well. Stretching, the man was sure to avoid eye contact with Amos. Silently, he awaited the old Native's command while taking the last few bites from the Muti-Fruit. He tossed it behind him and into the cavern. Tigru did not have to turn around to know a mutant scampered out from some shadow and snatched up the core.


The sooner he got this all over with, the sooner he would get paid a newly negotiated sum and get the hell off the Banks. Just a means to an end, he reminded himself. Just Business. Work for the muties, get paid, get out.

Roanoke Island,
Manteo City - Fourth Street Hotel

Scarlet held her breath as Zoller touched her dog, but the Trooper returned his attnetion to the contractor and the Wolves' body language quickly enough. He told her of the Troopers discipline, and how their bones were broken just for the hell of it. The woman was appalled by the idea, and began to view the Troopers as the "barbaric" one of the two groups. Contrary to his mission, the man had a charismatic arrogance about him that was contagious. Scarlet scolded herself mentally for letting her guard down, and continued.


There was somewhat of a lingering tension in the room that had nothing to do with kidnapping. It was beginning to annoy Zoller, and he wondered if Scarlett could feel it too. She could, of course. "You're like me." She said. "Like Darwin. The Old World is still a part of us."


"I certainly hope so." Zoller replied. "I certainly hope so." A bristling silence hung in the air. Only the dulcet tones of the radio's long dead song filled the room. When he could bare it no more, Zoller walked over to the dog. He woke the animal with a gentle ruffle of its fur, and then opened the door. He extended his arm, ready for Scarlet to take.


The woman slid off her bed, straightening the wrinkles from her dress. Scarlet walked to her closet and produced a light coat. Swinging it over her shoulders, the woman snatched a hat with a smaller brim and placed it on her head. Pausing by the mirror to look at her self, the contractor quickly fixed her makeup with a steadily rising panic. She hurried to her refrigerator, drank deeply from a bottle of fresh water, and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. Taking a small, black purse from her dresser, Scarlet joined Zoller near the door. Patting her thigh, the lazy mongrel rose from his bed and followed them out the door with a wagging tail.


In the hallway, Scarlet turned to Zoller. "To the mansion, then?" she asked, fearful he would respond angrily at her question. The dog sniffed the bench across the hallway and turned to Zoller, waiting for a response. Sounds of merriment and festivities drifted into the hallway from the streets, and the glow of red and blue lanterns cast trapezoids of various colors through the hotel's windows. The dog wagged his tail with curiosity. Scarlet knew the streets would be crowded. What she did not know was how she could use it to get away from Zoller alive. Not yet, anyway.













Once again Mussolini threw himself upon the ground, as the electrical storm raged around the clearing. The force of eight plasma grenades had created a field of lightening ignited by a single bolt of plasma, giving the forks of lightening an eerie green glow. Had Robert somehow survived? Perhaps. But the Wolf had not, and lay twitching on the damp soil of Roanoke Island.


The bombardment of plasma, surges of electricity, and his position in the wet dirt had fried the young Wolf's organs. Ding-Ding was dead, and the brothers would both be taken back by the Banks. The gulls waited hungrily nearby. They, too, would celebrate the blood moon.











Gallow led the caravan down the broken highway. His torch crackled and wavered with every gust of wind that rushed them from the East. In his right hand, he .45-70 Hunting Revolver was held loosely. The veteran Wolf's aging leather boots became uncomfortable hours after dawn, and this late into the evening his feet and legs ached from the journey. But it was his job to lead. His job to keep the others motivated. These runs to the Pitt and the Capital Wasteland often caused causalities. Gallow had found out through trial and error that making the journey as swiftly as possible bore the best results. Using the barrel of the Hunting Revolver to push the brim of his hat upwards, Gallow turned and walked backwards to face the group.


Rikki trudged before him, goggles over her eyes despite the darkness of the night. She held a Marksman Carbine in her hands, and a metal helmet on her head. The forehead of the helmet bore the mark of the wolf. "What is it?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. Gallow glanced behind her to the Wolves holding torches and weapons. Behind them were three brahmin pulled wagons and thrity three Wolves. Some of these were fresh recruits on their way to Kill Devil, and other's were on assignment. In the rear caravan, three contractors rode silently. The group numbered forty-two people and five brahmin in total. Rikkie followed Gallow's eyes to the group walking behind them. "What?"


"Nothing." Gallow replied, turning to face the road once again. But something was wrong. He could feel it, somehow. Keeping his eyes on the road ahead, the veteran Wolf could feel the blood moon shining down upon him when the clouds allowed it. "Keep your eyes open and your mouth shut, Rikki. I have a feelin' the stretch from here to Kitty Hawk won't be boring."


"I knew it!" Rikki whispered-yelled, pumping a fist in the air. Gallow shot her a hard look, and she lowered her fist sheepishly. Chambering a round in her Marksman Carbine, the young woman pulled her goggles off and smirked.













Wolves and Contractors surged back as the crane rumbled to life. One spilled his drink. Gears, operator of the South Gate's crane, hung his torch and pulled a lever. With a squeal and a groan, the South Gate of Manteo City began to rise. A man playing a guitar stopped strumming. The crowd shrank away from the gate and focused on the group approaching it.


Echo Team. The emergency response group for Manteo City, led by one of the original Wolves.


The group reached a "V" formation at the Gate, checked their gear a final time, and with soft howls exited Manteo City. Whispers and low voices rose from the crowd. The Gate closed behind Echo Team with a metallic groan. Gears watched the soldiers moving south, and sighed from his position high above them. It was bad luck to leave the company of fire on the night of the blood moon.



Echo Team followed the road south from Manteo City at a swift pace, until it ended in broken chunks. From there, Echo led her pack across the grassy dunes and through the strange trees, toward the source of the flare. There were nine of them including Echo herself. Some of them pulled functioning night-vision goggles on. Echo Team and Ghost Team were the only groups to have more than one set. Echo herself jogged quietly in her Light Combat Armor, wearing only a modified military helmet. A green laser shined from below the barrel of her weapon.


"Alright, double J. Look for anything suspicious. Might just be a false alarm, or might be that those two knuckle-heads ran into trouble. Jeebus, I want the Grenade Rifle loaded in case we walk up on another DeathJaw. Stay low." Echo whispered. The group split in two, moving roughly twenty yards apart. They advanced on the site of the battle, cresting a sand dune under the cover of grass and brush.













Derrick was the youngest Wolf on Ocracoke Island. At twelve years old, the boy had proved himself a major asset to the Wolves. Tonight, on the eve of his fifteenth birthday, Derrick sat on a grass dune and stared out across the Atlantic Ocean. In the Old World, people had often travelled from continent to continent of great ships and massive planes. He kne this because Darwin had told him so. Darwin had promised Derrick that one day the Wolves would posses the same technology of mobility. ( Although the Leader of the Wolves had added that it probably would not occur in his life time. ) Some of the older Wolves had compared Derrick to Alpha's younger, male counterpart. Of course he knew he was not as skilled as Alpha, but it was a goal that fueled his life recently.


The boy stood up and brushed his pants free of the damp sand. A gust from the ocean cause his dark hair to dance awkardly across his scalp. The boy did not care, and allowed it to continue. The waves crashed lazily against the dirty sand, leaving a thin, white foam behind as the were pulled back into the ocean. Derrick began a slow walk up the beach, paying great attention to his bare feet as he walked. A crab scuttled across the sand before him and disappeared into a hole. The boy chuckled. He hated Blueshells, with their massive pincers and their frightening lack of fear. But these burrowing crabs of the eastern beach had always pleased him. So busy in their tasks, so quick to flee before their human overlords walking the beach. So delicious when fried or baked. Derrick was about to continue his time of self reflection when a voice carried over the wind.


"Derry!" a man's voice shouted from somewhere to the south. Derrick turned around, observing a Wolf further down the beach close the distance. It was Harlin, a Wolf who worked on the fishing boat. As he approached, the winded Wolf wore a look of worry. "Derry, Kitty Hawk was attacked today. Bandits. Around noon. We just got all the info a minute ago... We killed most of 'em. Even captured their leader. I guess a lot of Wolves were hurt, Derry. Some... some of them died. A few were even children... Sorry tah say, Derry... you're ma and sis didn't make it." Harlin turned and began the cold walk back to town. Behind him, Derrick stayed silent. He looked up at the rust-colored moon as a lump seemed to form in his throat.

Banks Peninsula,
Town of Whalebone - Salty Shark Saloon

Thiago gave the slightest smirk. “Well, it’s a good thing I live on a boat then isn’t it?” he joked, shaking his head a bit. “You wouldn’t be intruding Jade. Though my gul might be a little pissed with ya.. But she’s trained well, so she won’t try and peck out your eyeballs.”

Though he joked, he let her speak, watching her a bit. His expression got more serious as she spoke of the gate. A stern look took over his face and he stared at her. “Jade… You’re an idiot if you think you could’ve stopped them. There was a hell of a lot of them there. They’d have flooded the gate either way. Be it without you in their way, or trampling your corpse.” Thiago sighed heavily, looking down at his empty plate. “Had you not have left your post… you’d be dead… Hell. I might be dead too. You’re alive now because you left, and you can continue to serve the Wolves for time to come. That’s a good thing I think. It’s not as if you ran away, or were busy boozing away on the job.”

As the basket of blueshell cakes were put on the table, he gave a sort of smile, nodding over to contractor, though Thiago wasn’t sure he even recognised the guy. “I’m sorry…” he apologised after a while. “I just… I don’t want you dwelling on what you could’ve done… especially when it coulda ended your life.” It wasn’t something Thiago wanted to imagine, but it wasn’t something that Thiago believed in. Thiago lived life as it came; he never dwelled on anything for too long. He planned ahead, and just altered plans to events. He never looked back, which is why he never strongly wanted to leave his home and find his family.

After a moment, she brought up the hotel, and awkwardly Thiago rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah… We can do that.” He smiled, glancing over to her wounded arm. “Is your arm alright by the way?”
----


“Yeah,” Ling said simply, in relation to Cade, before giving a smirk to the compliment to her boys. “Of course I have. For the glory of the Wolves, of course.” She gave a smirk, though she was loyal to the Wolves, she couldn’t help but get the smallest thrill in having built her own dynasty within the Wolves. Her eldest boys had kids now, and those were growing up into soldiers. Soon enough her family would be one of the biggest in the Wolves.

Ling’s pleased expression turned sour as she heard about Kitty Hawk. “Wha….?” Was all she could say, before looking away. “So that’s…”she breathed. She and Chang hadn’t been too far away from that area, and had been heading home when they had come across the tracks of the Bandits. Although there were more of them than usual, Ling hadn’t thought much of it. “Rachel Seth… the Bandit Queen..?” Like Alpha, she’d only heard stories about Rachel and her Bandits. “Wow.” Ling whispered in mild shock. She snapped back into reality looking at him. “Wait so… The Bandits just… threw themselves at Kitty Hawk and their leader just ends up in the hands of Alpha..?” Ling was confused, and a deep feeling found it’s way into her stomach. Something wasn’t quite right here.

Ling raised an eyebrow at the lack of Gallow Team. “Those guys, huh? Don’t they have long runs elsewhere… I wonder if they even know what’s happened.” Ling said passively, before looking around at the streets surrounding them. “You know what, that’s the entire reason I’m out here, rather than following your example and going to sleep in a proper bed. Let’s go get something to drink. I need it.“
----


Cade smirked a little at her response to his words of slight defiance. Giving a short not to her. “I will keep that in mind for the future.” He stated rather simply, referring to the acts of wisdom. He looked away for a moment, thinking upon her compliment. “Hm. I suppose you’re right.” Cade muttered, with a glimmer of vanity. “Thanks” he breathed, looking down at his gloves and stretched his fingers a bit, before securing his hands on his grenade rifle.

When she finally started talking again, Cade glanced over at her, giving her his full attention. “Understood.” The time had finally come. He had been aware of the sense of tensions between Darwin and Alpha for a long while. He knew that the split between the two would rip the Wolves in half, creating, for all intensive-purposes, two separate factions. It made him feel uneasy in his stomach, but he knew it was just about inevitable. “For all it’s worth, I am certain my brothers would come to our aid, should we need it.” He was absolutely certain of that fact too. Though the matter hadn’t ever come up, Ling had taught them to favour blood over anything else. Darwin wasn’t blood. He wasn’t even originally a wolf. Though Ling wasn’t, she was loyal to the Father. As such, her children had been taught to worship the father, almost as if he was theirs. Cade was no exception, and because of this, he knew where his family stood.

Cade then fell into silent thought as Alpha decided to get going properly again, and so he came to a jog, following a bit behind her. He glanced back at Big’Un, carrying Seth in a weirdly comical scenario. Who’d have thought they’d ever have her bound up like that? He then turned back and continued jogging, making sure to fall back into formation, ever the good soldier.

'Ser, if they cared about our technology, I expect they would have let us in by now. Or at the least, they don't care enough to rescind their foolish ways for a moment. The foolish pride these tribals possess never ceases to amaze me. Perhaps they've merely had a run in with the Enclave before. As if what we had heard was not bad enough already. Still, you might be right. We shall see if their fear will overcome their stubborness before we have to take more. . .drastic measures. I would rather like to see the Paladins blow up their pathetic gate.'

Walter turned his head to Bronwen, raising his eyebrow slooowly beneath his hood. With a chuckle and shake of his head, the Magician returned his attention to the Gate officer, whose men were flanking around him. They wore a curious design of armor, and wielded their weapons with obvious pride. "Dangerous territory Walter...don't aggravate them too much...wait. This will all come to fruition soon..." He thought to himself, repeating the mantra that had been his life. Blades Sharp, Mind Patient. With a slight bow towards the Stormtroopers, he apologized once to them. His voice had turned smooth and easy going, all at once attempting to assuage their injured pride.

"Ich bitte Sie*, I sometimes allow my tongue to get careless and get the better of me. However, one must understand our frustration. We traveled all this way for the honor of an audience with your Fuhrer only to be denied entrance without any consideration towards our offers or discussion. Now, I imagine soon enough we will be allowed in. Your Fuhrer -will- want to see us, you could be doing him a great favor by allowing us passage, as you well know I'm sure." No sooner had the words left his mouth when the other officer arrived, the loudmouthed one who had had the nerve to 'suggest' they leave came running up.

He made quite the comical appearance to be sure, black coat lapels flapping as he ran over to scream at the poor gate officer. Walter couldn't help it, he turned to his knights, and gave them a grin, shrugging as if to say 'I told them so'. He chuckled, turning right back around in time to hear the man speak, eyes gleaming beneath the red hood that shadowed his face.


"I apologise for my insolence, Gäste der Fuhrer, The Fuhrer would be most pleased to meet with you. Follow me. And stay close, my men aren't trustful of outsiders."

"I knew this Fuhrer would be a reasonable man, hmm Bronwen?" He remarked in a tone that suggested this was all seen in the cards, and flashed a card at her.

It was a depiction of the King of Spades.

Without a further word, he stepped forward to join the Commandant at the gates, knowing the Knights would follow without complaint. They knew their roles well enough, and he had no fear of the Stormtroopers in the camp. Their Fuhrer wanted to see them, none of them would dare to assault their personage now...or at least Walter hoped as much was true. He leaned down to Bronwen, whispering quietly. "Make sure the Good Sirs' don't attempt to liberate any of the captive women, as I'm assuming this group will have some of their own. Damsel in distress tales are lovely, but this is not the Queen, nor a Princess. They are wastelanders, as cruel as it sounds."

((* Assuming that there are ways for the Camelotians to know some German, seeing as Bronwen and Walter obviously know who the Fuhrer and Stormtroopers are emulating. If not he just said "Forgive me" in english))

[ NP, waiting on Immortal. ]