Weasel had fallen asleep with the woman by the time he hhad heard a loud thump outside of the window. He got out of bed, trying not to wake the woman. Out the window was Roland, speaking to an asian in a tree, would you look at that, a climbing asian! Weasel ran out to Roland, without grabbing his ha or jacket, he holstered his pistol and unsheathed an eleven-inch combat knife(I felt it is neccasarry to add a knife, deal with it). "What's up?" Weasel was still strapping his holster onto his shoulder over a white tee.

OOC: we moved on from the town a week ago, n0lanb0y. we are setting up camp in a forest. there are no women and no windows.

read the journal entries or that gut wound will prove fatal.

OOC: crap, i think i skipped reading a whole page, my bad

EDIT: disregard my last post, i was unaware of the journal entry

Weasel awoke, the pain in his gut less heavy. He looked down at the cut, it was almost closed up, he couldn't do too much moving, but could move if he needed to. He heard the thump from Bai and tried to stand up, leaving the tent. He saw Roland speaking with Bai. Weasel got dressed but left behind his jacket and hat, leaving him in a white tee, he secured his holster and sheathed his knife. As he approached Roland he could feel his wound opening, "what's the problem?"

OOC: you just don't pay attention, do you?

this is the dumbest idea ever you must be brain dead >>

i guess that would make 2 of us then, wouldn't it?

yep you and your mom

After Bai had released the rope and spoken to Roland, he crept down from the withered tree and layed down on his stomach at its base. The raiders were moving slowly and almost straight at their position, but Roland instructed David to wait before fireing a single round. Just waiting to kill a stupid raider, David tensley placed one finger on the trigger and could feel his heart pounding as he steadied the scope. If he wasn't careful, the gun would fire early.

Roland sighed in exasperation. These were some of the greenest men he had ever fought with.

"why in god's name did you get down from the tree?!" he whispered to the prostrate Bai, "you had a perfect vantage point!"

Roland looked around again. He could see only the increasingly useless Bai and Mark's clueless protectron. He prayed the rest of the men were either in cover or trying to flank the enemy before they caught our scent.

"If I can see them, they can see me and I might get 3 shots before that whole tree gets cut down by gun fire," Bai snapped back," And I'd rather climb dwon from that tree rather than fall."

Roland smiled. "There may be hope for you yet, Mr. Bai"

Bai quickly thanked Roland with definite disgust and said," If you want me back in that tree, I'm going to need the rest of you to keep their attention."

OOC: definite disgust?

IC:

"There is no time, now shut up"
the first of the raiders were cresting the ridge, luckily they hadn't spotted the tents, and they seemed completely oblivious to the protectron standing 10 feet from the treeline.

there was dead silence as Roland waited for the raiders to get closer. He could see the dried blood on their armour, the severed hands on their belthooks.

a single sound rang out in the still, cold air...

"tickets, please!"

and that was when all hell broke loose.

ooc: my guy is getting a little iritated Roland being rather bossy even if he is the boss.

Hearing the gun fire made David more nervous. He took of backpack to use as a gun rest and let out a hard breath. David wasn't used to such a large conflict. The gun shots seemed to be fading amidst his stressed heartbeats. He thought to himself about how far away the raiders were and took this into placing his crosshair. Finally, the stress broke and bullets sped forth and took 3 of the attckers to the ground. Luckily, the rest of the group didn't seem to notice Bai's shots amongst the others.

David released his breath and tried to steady himself for another volley.

The raiders scattered and dove for cover. Roland could not guess how many of them there were, but it was way too big to be a raid group. what where they planning?
2 of them fell to Roland's rifle in the first few seconds of the battle, but then they seemed to spot him. assault rifle rounds cut through the bush in which he crouched. he dropped his rifle and sprinted toward the a fallen log, drawing his magnum as he went. Roland fired all 6 rounds from his cannon of a handgun, each of them ending a life. He reloaded on the fly, his fingers moving between his belt and the empty cylinders of his gun with amazing speed. it took him less than a second, and then he was crouching behind the log, thinking about his next move.

Roland only hoped the battle was going as well for his companions

"TICKETS PLEASE" Mark heard while he was getting his jumpsuit on oh crap oh crap were screwed Mark thought maybe I should make a program to deactivate his vocabulater, oh well thats not important now. He dashed outside right into the largest firefight he had ever been in. Bullets were flying every where and he could only guess were they were coming from. Not being very experienced in full scale combat he let loose a barrage of laser were he guessed the raiders were. He heard a scream from the bush he shot at and smiled, but then a onslaught of bullets came cascading down upon him. He dove out of the way onto the ground, unfortunatley his protectron was not so agile. It caught some of the bullets right in the torso but most hit him in the arm wich got taken clean off. "Wow, that was lucky" Mark said to himself "can't beleive he is still fighting." His unstopable protector was still firing laser at the enemies but then, a sniper shot shot the protectron in the chest. Luckily it did not penetrate the armor it just knocked him down. "Oh frickin great" Mark screamed at the sky forgeting there was a battle around him. He quickly rememberd though thanks to another wave of bullets coming at him.

As he dove for the ground firing his pistol he hoped everything was alright with his freinds

Weasel moved at the edge of their sight, staying low and quick.

(i'll edit more in, but have we started the battle yet?)

ooc: yeah we have. try not to get killed

OOC: weasel isn't killed, but he MUST get knifed in the gut while trying to sneak up on a raider. Roland will patch you up after the battle.

Weasel spotted a raider, far off with a knife, trying the same thing he was. As fast as he could he ran behind the raider, putting the knife to his throat. By the time he had the knife to the raiders throat, the raider had already shoved the knife into Weasel's gut. The raider shivered, afraid of death from the man with a knife to him. Weasel whispered into the raider's ear, "good night, cabron. Don't struggle now." He quickly sliced the raider's throat and hobbled back to the camp, wan'ting a ranged weapon more than anything at the time.

OOC: Just to confirm, Branston is not part of the crew and has been following you guys for the last couple of weeks.

Branston woke with the thumping sounds of rounds going off and shooting into the night’s sky, as he made his way out of his makeshift tent, the sky was illuminated from the gun fire coming from the direction of the traveller’s camp, further along the tree line. Branston quickly gathered his rifle and 10mill, then started his approach to the camp, cautious of the fact that some thing was attacking, he couldn't help but feel vunerable.

As Branston approached the boarder of the battle just in the tree line, he could see that it was far from over. Taking note of the positions, he could see many raiders had ploughed in but amazingly the defenders were doing a good job of holding them off. The next part of the raiders plan didn't look so easier to contend with. A wave of at least 11 raiders approached just out of sight from the defenders, one carrying a sinister looking mingun. "What the [censored]!" Branston exclaimed, out of pure amazement that a raider had a minigun, "They have about 30 seconds before they are visible to the enemy, there going to slaughter most, if not all of the group, the guy in the tree is going to be cannon fodder. I’ve come too far for them to die now… investments are [censored] these days.", with that thought Branston bolted out of the tree line, leaves in his back wash, still speeding in the direction of the incoming wave, staring at the mini gun totting raider. Branston draws his hunting rifle, now approaching the wave from a flanking position; he slows to a halt and takes first pressure of the trigger, still looking at the head of mini gun, all within 20 seconds. Branston applies full pressure, "BOOM!", the round flies out of the barrel twisting though the air, the round burrows through the head of the mini gun totting raider, splitting the head in two. The rest of the wave are too psyched to notice and carrying on towards the killing zone. Branston aimed again, fired and missed by the smallest whisper, any man would notice a round pass that close to their head, the man came bounding toward Branston, Branston re-cocked his weapon….. aimed….. fired…… blockage............

(OOC: I've been gone for a while, real-life and Fallout 3 are respectivly to blame)

Tom used his binoculars to look upon the group bound for paradise. Tom had drifted off at the bar, and when he awoke, they were gone. He had been tracking them for a while before he found them, and was trying to find an oppurtunity to enter the group once again. His rifle was strapped to his back, and it's prescense calmed him somehow, giving him alot more confidence. That may have been why he didn't notice the raider creeping up behind him. He held a switchblade stiffly in one hand, and his tongue stuck out of his mouth where part of his jaw used to be. He took another step forward and stepped on a twig, the snap seeming like an explosion. Tom whirled around and groped blindly for his sidearm. The sudden motion tipped him over from his crouching position, and he landed on his arm before he took aim, and fired. The bullet caught the unlucky raider in the unprotected shoulder, knocking him to the ground. Tom then quickly stood up, pushing himself with his arms, and put his foot on the small of the injured man's back before firing a shot into the back of his head, putting him down for good. He let out a quick breath and looked over at the other raiders who had noticed Tom's little display. He stooped down as bullets flew over his head and he ran down the fairly steep hill, leaning back to compensate. He reached the ground and staggered slightly before running for cover.

OOC: Am I still in this? EDIT: ok got it.

IC: Marcus hid behind a rock, "Anyone got any frags? toss one up!"
EDIT: the raiders moved quickly, with evil grins on their faces, Marcus hated the raiders, and wanted to slaughter them, Marcus moved to the right and flanked them off, when suddenly, he heard footsteps to the right of him, he looked over, and moved just to dodge a metal pipe. With his .44 drawn, he blew the raiders head in half sky high 20 feet into the air. He looked overtowards the center of the battlefield, "Roland, are you alright? I think they are falling back!" Marcus' dog was a very smart dog, Marcus had told him to stay behind him, and after the raider with the pipe was dead, the dog could be seen gnawing on his body.

OOC: well done

OOC: Keep it going, I edited my post