The Port

Name: The Port

Other Names: The Raider City

Type of Faction: Raider

Faction Leader: The Port is split up into gang territory, with each boss the head of that part of the city. The one with the most influence at the moment is the Scavs's Tony Tortuga, but the other two of the Big Three, Mercer of Mercer's Men and Stuart (God help you if you ever find out and call him by this name) of the Bootleggers are not to be trifled with either. The Head Inquisitor (whose name is not known to anyone within the city) is also feared, even among his allies the Scavs and while the Steadies try to play it neutral and patch up and sell drugs to anyone, there are rumors that their expertise with guns is not simply a aftereffect of the drug so there is some suspicion on what the crackheads are really doing down in that chem lab of their's, especially since their lead scientist, Dr. Stront, is a direct descendent of a captured Project scientist, which is more than enough to make him reviled by all.

Other Names:For the Big Three: Big Tony, Stomper(After the well known expression), and The Reaper (since Mercer caused more death in his one take over than there's been in any gangwar for over thirty years).

Active Characters: Jimbo

Other Notable Figures:The Insider (or more derisively the Snitch) and Buddy

Goals: Given their location just on the outskirts of East Hampton, the main concern they have is with water and food. They can attempt to do both by making a water run south through Wainscout, but the Lost Ones make it dangerous no matter how often they go. So they coped with doing raiding parties on the Sag Habor farmlands, taking food, water, weapons, ammo, chems and slaves, before heading back to the Port, storing what they decide they need and then selling off the rest to the gangs associated with it.

Beliefs: The raiders of the Port believe in blood, drink, chems and sex. And the raiders outside the wall don't even believe in that – it is chaos they hunger for. But the sole exception are the Wanderers, who worship the Lost Traveler, located at the Hampton Country Day Camp.

Allegiances: The gangs within the Port all have their internal rivalries and alliances, however shaky. The strongest alliance would be between Big Tony of the Scavs and the Head Inquisitor. None of the other gangs offer the Inquisitor many people to test their “skills” on, however, the Scavs often come across a solitary survivor who may be part of a larger group with more supplies that needs breaking, and the Scavs have the firepower to keep the Inquisitors kicking so the two have been working together since torture started in the settlement.

The other alliance is a strenuously one between Mercer's Men and the Bootleggers. Traditionally, whenever one of the Big Three rises to power the other two band against it. However, with Mercer's rebellion against his former masters the Bootleggers jumped at the chance to take out the weakened gang and loot the spoils – something that neither Mercer's Men or the ex-Raider slaves, the Lifesavers, are going to forget anytime soon.

Enemies: As mentioned before, the Scavs, being the top dogs at the moment, have made enemies with the rest of the city, especially given their superior firepower. However, they are also the rivals of the raiders that roam outside the city, especially the Wanderers since the Scavs openly desire for their “god” to be killed off.

Lastly the Steadies, with their difficult stance of being neutral, are simultaneously allied and enemies to all in the Port. Something they are not happy about. There are some among their number who want to end the neutrality and throw their lot in with one of the Big Three, particularly the Bootleggers with the hope of getting revenge on Mercer's slaves due to the history behind all three. But Stront's team has threatened to stop making steady and other chems if the gang puts themselves in harm's way like that, so the actual boss, Alguerda, appeases him to the disdain of the other four gangs.



Headquarters: The Port is seated in the remains of the old East Hampton Airport. A scrap metal wall encompasses the airport, the runway and a line of buildings that were set on the outskirts of the airport. The interior of the city is likewise divided into five sections. Those sections are each owned by a different gang as follows:

In the northern corner are the Scavs. These are the scavenging teams that raids local caravans and the farmers under the protection of the Guards. Because of this, they possess the only gates in or out of the city, three sets of hollowed out plane fuselages serve as fortified tunnel entrances. They also protect the chems, guns, armor and food they bring back and store in the actual airport itself by mining the flat run way and having snipers up on the rooftops. These snipers generally tend to be Steadies. The deal is simple, the Scavs trade some of the chems they get in for guards. Extraneous goods are sold to the other gangs for a profit. They have become so efficient at these raids in recent years that they've become the most influential force in the Port. They were the ones who originally attacked the Guards and the scientists from the Project all those years ago.

Off to the west are the Inquisitors. The torturers of the Port, they are set up in some hangars and on the far end of the runway, but make use of the Scavs mines as well for protection. Around the hangars was a thick forest, which, in pre-war time, was heavily protected out of fear of Chinese sabotage of commercial flights. Even now, there is still Protectrons patrolling and Mark I turrets set up on metal platforms around the walled edges of the hangars. The monitor to control the turret systems is in the Head Inquisitor's room right outside the torture chamber. The two gangs work together, the Inquisitors becoming a sort of boogeymen for the Scavs, which aided them in their rise to power.

In the southeast corner are the Steadies. These are the ones who buy and sell drugs. While normally professional with their drugs and have a strict no testing out the merchandise policy, their exception is with the drug Steady, given that it's highly addictive. A side effect is that they are exceptional sharp shooters. They have a chem lab run by Stront, a descendant of a captured Project scientist, in a pre-war school science classroom.

While in the opposite corner are the Bootleggers. One of the “Big Three” they are the kings of entertainment, lodging and commerce in the city. Each of the Big Threes have had periods of contention and war, taking over the entirety of the city only to be knocked down again. However, the Bootleggers had the longest running empire due to their taking over a old Poseidon Energy (which had be used to fuel the planes) and raided it's stock of energy weapons. It still acts as the mouth of their territory, for behind it is the Living Waters Full Gospel Church, known now as only the Living Waters – the city's tavern, inn, casino and whorehouse. And behind it is the Bootlegger's base of operations. Situated around a old radio station, WVVH, they made use of it to broadcast their propaganda during their glory days. While their place has recently been usurped by the Scavs they still dream of domination.

Lastly, directly to the south are Mercer's Men. Previously known as the Lifesavers, they were a group of slavers set within a old construction company known as Men at Work Construction Corp. One of the Big Three, unlike the other two they had never taken over the Port for any extended period of time. Part of this was due to their own internal succession issues, for the gang's boss could not produce a son, which gave way to rumors of impotency and insurrections. This problem was the main contribution to the Mercer's Rebellion, which ended with the slaves as the new slavers and the ex-raiders as the slaves.

Locations: Outside of the Port, there are three other main points of interest. Particularly of note are the untamed Raider gangs on the outskirts of town,the most well known of which are the Wanderers set up in the Hampton Country Day Camp. But the numerous other tribes and gangs lives in the ruins of Wainscout and are in constant warfare with the Lost Ones. Lastly, to the far north, in a field of rubble belonging to some old pre-war building is Jimbo's shack hidden beneath a overhang of concrete stone and rubble – his location known only to the Scavs and the Wanderers.

Maps:

The Port:

The Port, Vault 66 and Sag Harbor:

Armaments: The armaments of the city depends on the faction. The Inquisitors, for example, deal in torture. Their primary means of torture involves cutting with weapons such as rippers, knives, switchblades and bladed gauntlets. But they also beat their victims bloody with police batons (salvaged from Scavs from dead Lost Ones), bats and pool cues, along with unarmed weapons such as boxing tape and brass and spiked knuckles. Preferring isolation, the Inquisitors don't go on the offensive much, letting their automated turrets, Protectrons and the hidden mines on the airstrip and underneath the rocky soil of the forest protect them as they go about their business inside the hangars.

The Steadies are expert sharpshooters, and tend to have a variety of small guns with scopes such as hunting rifles and .44 Magnums to be used for long distances and a lone sniper rifle rifle. In more close and personal encounters they wield both silenced 10 mm and .22 pistols, and also silenced and scoped assault rifles, apparently called Infiltrators, traded in by some envoys from the Pitt seeking communication with the Port.

The infiltrators and the sniper rifle are loaned by the Scavs for the Steadies who do guard duty around the airport. The Steady with the sniper rifle is actually set up in a makeshift scrap metal tower on the top of the airport.

Mercer's Men specializes in both paralyzing and heavy weaponry. In particular, during gang warfare the slavers would send out slaves armed with grenade and missile launchers and flamers. During gang warfare, the slavers used to send out the slaves armed with the large weapons with the thought that if they were shot and killed or if they tire out or break a bone from the lifting than it was no sweat off their backs. The slavers themselves would sit back with paralyzing weapons such as pulse grenades, cattle prods and dart guns, to paralyze any escaping slaves and put them back into pens. The slavers, of course, carried more conventional guns, the most common of which are trail and marksman carbines, which they use for more precision fire while the slaves just unleash lead.

However, out of all the Raiders in the Port, it is the Bootleggers that have the most technologically advanced weaponry. During the town's conception they found and looted a Poseidon Energy station, taking from it an incredible amount of small energy cells, electron charge packs and microfusion cells, along with a handful of laser pistols and rifles that had belonged to pre-war security and were still found on their skeletons. Since then they have continued to collect energy weapons so that their inventory has increased from not only laser rifles and pistols, but recharger pistol and rifles and laser RCWs – several with the Recycler modification to save on ammo. Lastly, through tradition the head of the Bootleggers always carries a plasma caster, which they keep hidden on themselves at all times. Mercer continues that tradition.


While the Bootleggers may have the most technologically advanced weapons, the Scavs have the largest arsenal, and just her a bit of everything. For instance, in regards to unarmed and melee weapons, they have a supply of power fists and super sledges commonly in use while also a couple of ballistic fists, displacer gloves and thermic lances in the armory. As for guns, as mentioned previously they do have infiltrators and a couple sniper rifles (but only one they loan to the Steadies), but for their own use they have shotguns, caravan from their raids and combat from old military complexes, assault rifles along with Chinese versions, SMGs, and Service Rifles (the weapon of choice for most of them, the original supply was scavenged from the Guards themselves). Lastly, they own one gatling laser, which Buddy and his Boys which tote around the power fists and super sledges, use to guard the front entrance.

Armor and Uniform: Again, the Raiders are categorized and differentiated not only by what they do and the weapons they have, but what they wear as well. The Inquisitors wear, fittingly, raider sadist armor with archlight helmets to keep the blood splatter off. The Steadies wear painspike armor with psycho tic helmets. Mercer's Men wear blastmaster armor with matching helmet. While the Bootleggers have badlands armor with wastehound helmets. Lastly, the Scavs wear commando armor, modified leather armor, while Buddy and his gang wears throwdown armor, a trimmed metal armor.

Vehicles: N/A

Technology: The city has a working radio station, which is currently being used by the Bootleggers. Also, in the Steadies chem lab, in the chambers of Dr. Stront there is a bomb collar nailed to the wall. If the nails were removed and the collar repaired it might still work.

On the other hand, it could be tampered with while Stront is sleeping and be made to blow up.

Other: They have a water purifier near the middle of the town where after water runs are made to Wainscout in the south the dirty water can be brought back there to be purified. But the danger of being mugged and robbed of your water there is so great that a good portion of the town just forgoes it entirely and keeps the water irradiated.

Numbers: The numbers of the raider town varies depending on the gang. The Steadies and the Inquisitors are the smallest hosting only a dozen or so. While the Big Three are of nearly equal size around fifty members, making the city a total of over a hundred and seventy.

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[spoiler=Flight 827]Two hundred years ago, when the bombs first fell, the seed that would later birth the Port could be found in Flight 827. A commercial flight between L.A. and Washington D.C., it's departure was at four in the evening and it's eta was at midnight, Eastern Time. However, they did not last the trip, for it had only been two hours into the flight, when the clock struck 9:47 on the eastern coast, that the sky was lit up with fire.

Missiles flew by, visible through the window, mushroom clouds of smoke billowed up one after another after another. The entire plane was filled with screams and sobs and pounding of fists on the metal frame. In the cockpit, the pilot's hands shook and the plane shivered through turbulence, before the man got a hold of himself and righted it.

Edward “Eddie” Wildley was a old man, in his mid seventies nearing his eighties and had planned to retire from piloting soon. He knew how to navigate through storms, but never quite the end of the world before. So he did what a good pilot does in the middle of a catastrophe, he calls back to base (more out of habit than any actual expectation to be answered), waits for the dust to settle and than land at the nearest strip.

Except the Geiger counter indicated that the radiation levels were lethal.

So they buckled down, hoping that after a couple days the radiation would wear off to a decent level. But it didn't. And the food, snacks that were provided for the flight or lunchboxes packed for the young children, vanished bit by bit. So before it was entirely used up, Wildley got the plane in the air again heading for the next major airport on the flight path.

But there was no luck here either. In fact, in flight to their destination the Geiger counter acted up despite being many miles above land. However, they were desperate so one brave volunteer offered to go out and find food, energy cells to fuel the machine and, hopefully, survivors.

The man never returned.

So they took off again.

Their next landing zone wasn't even a airport it was a flat piece of ground in the middle of nowhere. But, again, the opened a door. This time, however, it was a family that stepped out, having decided that they would either return together or not at all.

They returned.

Fresh clothes, medicine, a spare set of guns (just in case) and, dearly needed food and water. However, when the passengers dug in, they felt a searing pain in their stomachs and several spent the next hour or two entering and leaving the bathroom, which after three days stunk to high heavens. It turned out that the food and water were heavily irradiated. And the passengers threw it out.

They would all come to regret that.

For while it was irradiated, it was also food, normal food. And they soon found out that animals, plants and foods made out of them that they had always taken for granted could crumble away as easily as civilization did.

The black rain fell.

And the Wastelands were born.[/spoiler]

[spoiler=The Port] Flight 827 repeated this cycle, flying, landing, looting and then flying again, until they realized that the fuel needed to power the plane was just far too rare, even in a plane that had shifted from fossil fuel to fusion, to ever make this survival strategy manageable.

So, they decided to pick a landing spot that had the least amount of background irradiation they can find. That search took them to and pass Washington D.C. to a airport off of Long Island. East Hampton and it's airport, perhaps due to the fact that it was several miles outside of New York City, had not been badly hurt in the explosions. And, for the first time in months, the plane landed and all of the passengers filed out – with no little trepidation.

But despite the fact that East Hampton was just to the east a bit and did have many in contact buildings, still none of the passengers would venture far from the airplane and the airport. It's thick metal walls had saved them from the apocalypse and many just wanted to flee back within it's safety again.

So they began to pull out mattresses, dressers, wardrobes out from the abandoned homes down south in Wainscott and all other nearby suburban homes to create a small encampment. A encampment, they soon learned, needed to be properly defended. All sorts of wasteland horrors came by – rats that have become the sizes of dogs, dogs, in the last months who have gone feral, roaming around the destroyed town in packs, and cats too, once domesticated, had become monstrous creatures. But, on the flip side, it meant easy access of food.

But that source soon dwindled as the dogs and cats were hunted to extinction. Though, the Port would later learn, some groups survived by fleeing to the west and joining with other packs out that way. But at the present, all that meant was that the growing community was out of food – and once more they became desperate.

It was during this time that they discovered other survivors gathered around the pre-war town of Sag Harbor. A group of representatives, including Eddie Wildley, decide to go up north to establish communication and trade. However, despite being friendly, the community of Sag Harbor refused trade of any kind, especially for food. They were already being provided for by yet another force to the north. A force whispered to be the National Guard.

Hearing this, some within the settlement decided to try their chances wandering north to get under the protection of that vestige of the pre-war government. However, while many of them had considered themselves Americans not even a year before, still there was some hesitation – disbelief, that anything resembling normality could ever occur. And when the scavenging group found those same refugees dead out in the wastes they found that as proof to not trust in any outside force.

So, the community decided to take matters into their own hands.

The first raid they did was successful, striking the community in the dead of night, opening up their store of food and then carting it off back to the airport. However, if they thought that would be the end of it, the previous passengers were wrong. The farmers of Sag Habor came back, guns blazing, but were repulsed before they could get to the food but at no small cost for the ones living in the airport.

That's when things began to change.[/spoiler]

[spoiler=The Bootlegger's Golden Years]The settlers moved with one goal – protection. They started taking down the planes on the airstrip for scrap metal (leaving their own Flight 827 alone at the beginning) and built makeshift barricades and walls around their encampment. The ruins of East Hampton were combed over carefully, anything that could be used as a weapon was collected. Of particular interest was the old East Hampton police station located nearby.

It was also during this time that one group of the survivors discovered a stash of laser weapons in the Poseidon Energy station, on the corpses of security personnel in a previously locked section of the building. Soon, the group that did the scavenging and found the supplies the town needed was eclipsed by this faction with superior firepower.

They called themselves the Bootleggers, originally because of the pre-war usage as they gathered the alcohol that had survived the blast but as the years went on and as they got their radio station, WVVH, up and running their common expression over the airwaves would be, “Let's all be fine and dandy so we can kick our legs up and relax … you don't want to see us stamp our boots down.”

But even before those years went on, already the Bootleggers were showing signs of dominance. It was they who told the scavenging team when to go and what targets to pick. And so, when those rumored National Guards were said to be moving nearby after coming down from Montauk it was the Bootleggers who “encouraged” the attack. And, if anyone objected to attacking one of the few forces that were trying to actually treat radiation poisoning in Long Island, a laser rifle was a good incentive to stay quiet.

When the scavengers sneaked up on the lone party, they saw instantly that they were in over their heads. The party was huge, three groups of four National Guard men, each with service rifles and assault carbines and adorned with combat armor. At the very least they were conjugated around four men in lab coats. The scavengers looked down on the group from a rock outcropping as they crossed through the newly forged desert sands.

“Eddie. Let's forget about this.” One of his men said. And Edward agreed. This is suicide. His hands clutched together as he watched the men below. It would be easier to take out the Bootleggers with their energy weapons than it would to take out these dozen men now. Perhaps … if he were to approach them, ask for their aid …

From the face of the rocky outcropping they were ontop of, three figures leaped out.

The scavengers stopped.

The National Guards stopped.

Three giant bear-like creatures, no perhaps they were bears, leaped down, shreds of fur and bunch of irradiated corded muscles laced through their arms. “What the fuck are – ” One of the Guardsman said before he was clawed down, fangs biting into his throat as his blood soaked into the sands. The second and third did the same, clawing down one man in a instant and flinging another far, his body crashing into the rock wall.

The Guardsmen opened fired then, standing in a tight line while protecting the scientists behind them. But if they were bears once, their hardened skin and furious speed made them monsters now, shrugging off the bullets and coming in close, biting, clawing and snarling white foam. "Fuck!" A Guardsman shouted. "These monsters are everywhere! No where's safe! Fall - "

He never had a chance to finish the word, "back".

For, at that moment, Edward Wildley tossed three frag grenades all landing behind the Guards.

To this day, the raiders call such a shot a “Wild Toss”.

And to this day they still hoot and holler at the sight of chunks of bodies flying every way.

It was through the smoke cloud that rose up that the raiders shot, a hail of fire blasted down below. There were a few bursts of return fire, but it was broken by periods of gun shots directed away from the raiders (towards those terrible creatures, no doubt, that still survived the grenades) until it was lessened bit by bit. When the dust settled, of the original twelve, fifteen counting the scientists, only four still stood.

And those four, seeing the raiders up on the clifftop and one creature not killed off in the blast, turned and ran – gunshots chasing after them. After that it was a simple matter for the team. Kill the creature by unleashing lead (the diverting fire probably the sole thing saving the survivors' life from the beast) , and then go down and collect the loot.

It was as they were doing this that Eddie heard the call, “Hey! We got a live one!”[/spoiler]

[spoiler=The Lifesavers, the Inquisitors and the Docs] They words had barely been said when Richie pointed a gun down on the man's head. The survivor was one of the scientists. “What are you doing.” Eddie said. It wasn't a question. The man was missing a arm, blood staining his white lab coat, and was practically dying out as they spoke but Richie wanted to blow his brains out.

“I just want to ask him a question.”

The man coughed. “Go ahead.”

Richie looked down at him, surprised the man was awake, but then said, “What is the National Guard doing this far east? Last I heard they were setting up shop over on Shelter Island – left all of us suffering souls to our lonesome.”

It looked like the man wanted to laugh at that but the gun to his head made him think otherwise.

“I come from a military base up in Montauk. The National Guards knew about it – they wanted to collect us so that we could treat radiation poisoning. We resisted, wishing to continue the experiments, but they forced our hand. Us three were the only ones who were proficient at it.”

“You can treat radiation poisoning?” That was Brian, a former lifeguard before Flight 827. He had been acting as the community's doctor, despite only knowing basic CPR and first aid. His eyes seemed to shine at the thought of a actual doctor.

But Richie disagreed, pressing his gun further against the man's head, “Bullshit. We should make him tell us all he knows and than get rid of him. He's too much of a risk otherwise.”

Brian started at that. “Make him? Like – torture, him?”

“If that's what – ”

A gunshot banged – silencing them.

The whole group turned to look at Bridget. A young Russian woman, she had been dead quiet for nearly over a year – ever since the landing. Most had assumed she was either mute or could speak no English so she didn't bother speaking at all. But she spoke now, a thick, heavy accent punctuating each word. “No.” She said, “No torture. No killing. He is … under my care. No harm.”

Though she did not speak, there was one reason, and one alone, that they kept her around, made her part of the scavenging team. When she lowered her gun from the air to point it at Richie, dead look in her eye, the man stepped away.

The scientist either did not see the look or did not care, “You.” He said, “You are my lifesaver! Thank you!”

Bridget smirked. “Think as shall like.”

With Bridget putting her foot down, the group gathered the scavenged gear and began to make their way back. During the trip, a couple from the group chatted with the one-armed scientist, asking his name. He hesitated for a moment, before saying, “Stront. I am Dr. Stront.”

Mister waited for them when they came back. Mister was the head of the Bootleggers, a real g-man, dressed in a pressed business suit and polished shoes before the war that became grimy after no matter how much he scrubbed with irradiated water. The only thing any of them knew about the man was that he was journeying to D.C. for “important matters” when the bombs fell.

But what they did not know of his past, his personality made up for it. He was a smooth operator. He talked in a calm, oily tones, working his way into your head until you're practically nodding agreement to every word he says. Which is never a pleasant thing, for under the oil was acid.

His eyebrow raised at the sight of them, armored in the National Guard uniforms, wielding serious firepower with the Service Rifles and the Assault Carbines and merely said, “I see it went well.”

“Not quite.” Richie said, gesturing to the captured scientist. “The morons decided to bring him back, and I have no say in the matter.”

Mister didn't even have to say a word. Brian hurried to explain, “He's a doctor. Can treat radiation even!”

Richie walked off, hearing enough. Several others went with him. And, looking at them, Edward Wildley knew, We're splitting up. Since the moment the plan landed, the community had split in two, those centering around Mister and his honey-coated words and appearance of federal power, becoming the Bootlegers, and those who wanted to go out and work for their survival as the scavenging team (who centered themselves around him, though Wildley did not know that). But now the scavenging team was splitting, and, those who remained would be the true Scavs.

He just didn't understand how big the group's collapse was.

But he understood, when Bridget walked over and snapped a metal collar around Dr. Stront's neck.[/spoiler]

[spoiler=Vault 66] The following years defined them, reinvented them as the Port. Especially when new groups, gangs, filtered in from the wastes. They were uncontrollable and rabid, and airport was filled with shooting and guns and blood as the Scavs lost more and more supplies and the Bootleggers became fatter from the profits of booze, sex and gambling – all established in a old gospel church to bring the insult home to Wildley.

Speaking of the man, he was quickly tiring out, and lay bedridden in one of the old beds in the actual airport proper while a new man took control over the scavenging team. This new man, unlike Wildley, was quick to accept the existence of slavery in their community again. Since Bridget's enslavement of Doctor Strant, several others had formed around her – hoping to reap in the benefits. For their was money to be found in it – though Bridget allowed the man to live with Brian and a few others who were interested in learning how to heal (or junkies from the outside who wanted a chance at their stock) she still received all the profits the man made, and the Lifesavers would continue to wrack in the profits the Docs made until Brian came to Mister to get him to intervene, establishing their own independence and neutrality.

It was during this time that Dr. Stront revealed a piece of information that none of them, being from L.A., knew. There was a Vault in East Hampton. Apparently, a couple scientists from Montauk had actually gone there and transferred their experimental work over.

Instantly, plans were made to find the Vault in the city. If they could get it open, they would either have a new place to loot or new people to raid from (there was no talk about trade at this point). The Scavs went out to the Vault, and on that very day, back in the Port, Edward “Eddie” Wildley died in bed. From that moment on, they saw it as a sign, a ill omen.

They never did find the Vault, but they found what was inside. The Scavs came back with tales fit for nightmares – roaming, shambling people with glowing green eyes that flash a vivid red when they spot you, they swarm and move as one, screaming out nonsense as they thrash about their limbs.

The following days, there was a intense move to refortify the Port. By taking the rest of the scrap metal from the rusting airplanes the slaves began constructing walls and sniper towers along the perimeter. Just in time. For if there were any who doubted the Scavs record of crazy men and women who attacked with no regard to flying bullets, that doubt was alleviated when the Crazies came to attack in droves.

It took time. But eventually the attacks lessened bit by bit until they completely stopped. By that point, without the need to fear the outside due to the defenses the raiders turned on each other in a fit of gang warfare. The Lifesavers's slaves continued to build, but they were walls in the Port now, separating and defining the territory.

By the time the war was over, the present day Port was established.[/spoiler]

[spoiler=The Scavs and The Insider] When the fighting was over, the lines in the sand were etched. And it was the Scavs that would came out the winners. It was at this time that a huge influx of weapons started pouring into the Port. While part of them were scavenged off of lone or groups of wastelanders or pre-war buildings that had a decent stock of them like the East Hampton Police station, the majority of the firepower came from the Guards – or rather, was stolen from the Guards.

By this time the community of Sag Harbor had completely fell under the sway of the Guards, the remnants of the pre-war National Guard that had moved over to Shelter Island a couple years after the bombs fell. Not only were they able to create large wasteland farms with resilient crops, but the farmers were provided with weapons to more adequately protect them and the occasional patrol of Guards came around as well. For a while the Scavs wasted their time, energy and manpower trying to raid those farms, succeeding in being little more than nuisances, but that changed when they decided to raid Lt. William O'maley, a retired officer from the Guards and a new landowner in Sag Harbor in the wish to make some caps for his family name.

The Scavs had just lined up and were prepared to charge when a letter was delivered to Big Tony. It had been found by the mattresses of one of his men, someone had actually sneaked into and out of a camp of raiders, which showed enough balls for him to read the whole thing. The message of the letter was simple. Do not attack the O'maley farm. Instead, the letter suggested to focus their attention on a different farm, one that would be having a guard shift in three hours. If they followed through and liked the information given, there was a listed location for a amount of caps to be dropped off at and communication would continue.

Communication continued.

No one in the Scavs ever learned the name or identity of the informer, but one thing was very clear to him. He was either in or had connections to both Sag Harbor and the Guards. There was simply no way that the information given to them could be from any other source. So, whenever a Scav would go to the drop off point to deliver the necessary caps they would always say, “Heading off to the Insider now.” or “Giving the Snitch his due.”

Big Tony stored the notes delivered in a wall safe. If the Insider was who he thought he was, he may need it later.[/spoiler]

[spoiler=Mercer's Rebellion]

The Rebellion started when the previous leader of the Lifesavers, Boss Iago, after ending the internal insurrections, decided to deal with the situation by naming a young boy born to a slave as his son (though given how many of the slavers raped her, there could be no telling whether the boy was actually his). The boy, Mercer once he had established power and understood the way the bomb collars worked, actually turned on the slavers, disabling the collars in one fell swoop. Overnight the slavers were overrun and enslaved instead. While the ex-slaves, Mercer's "Men", took their place as leaders. Any who opposed to slaving were either killed off or reslaved, which, given that they were put in the company of several pissed off raiders was a fate worse than death often enough.

Once in power, Mercer changed the basic set up of how gang warfare worked. Instead of having the slaves do the fighting and possibly die off in the process, the Men were split up into two groups, the Sellers and the Fighers. The Sellers were the ones who went out to find more slaves, hoping that the toll they paid to use the Scav's gates would be less than the profit they make from selling captured wastelanders. While the Fighters were the ones most familiar with then weight and use of heavy weapons. They continued to fight as they did as slaves, but whatever gains they gathered would be given to them instead of their masters.

This set up was quickly put to the test when word of the Rebellion swept through the Port. Instantly the Bootleggers tried to wage war with Mercer, seeing him as a weak slave which means that the slavers' territory was ripe for the picking. Many within the Scavs thought similarly, but Big Tony saw this as a opportunity to create a division within the Bootlegggers and the slavers, who have traditionally worked together whenever the Scavs rose in dominance. So, with the Scavs lending aid, Mercer managed to hold them off, much to the fury of the Lifesavers, now made slaves. And, after that, there was a period of quiet calm with a hidden tension, a sense that the Port could implode at any moment.

And then the Project struck.[/spoiler]

Note:
As Immortal and Ghost suggested, I made the revisions to the armaments that each faction in the Port possesses, though I did decide to trade out Buddy's minigun and the plasma mines around him for a gatling laser, so that the Scavs have each type of weapon at their disposal. Buddy and his Boys are a minor faction in the Scavs that I didn't cover. I'll get to them when I do Jimbo's profile.

The reason why the Bootlegger's head has a Plasma Defender is because it was Mister's weapon, who was an Enclave officer. He was on Flight 827 transporting a person of interest, Bridget, to D.C. But once everything went to hell, he decided to free her of the bomb collar and leave her free to do as she wished – she wished to use the collar to start slavery in the Port.