Roland could hear the gunfire getiing closer to his cover. He took his last grenade fom his belt and pulled the pin. He held it for 2 seconds before lobbing it backwards over the log toward where he guessed the raiders would be.

the explosion shook the rotting log Roland was leaning against. When he poked his head above it a stream of bullets tore past his right ear. He raised his revolver and turned the raider's head to mist.

The raiders' numbers seemed to be thinning but they could not be allowed to regroup or fall back. The only option was to slaughter each and every one of them.

Marcus was hiding in cover, holding his dog's collar. He was thinking about what had happened to his father, and that he may have not died, he looked over at Roland, "Roland, they may have a slave-record terminal, maybe my father is still alive, but we have to kill them all.

All the fire was concentrated on Marcus, and Roland seemed to be picking the raiders off and their numbers thinned up quickly. "Should we advance Roland?" Marcus yelled as the fire of rifles, shotguns, and pistols could be heard in the distance.

"Let that dog go!" Roland shouted, "He knows what he was born to do!"

Roland stayed low and sprinted the 20 feet across the clearing toward a better firing position. He dropped 2 raiders as he went.

There were only a few raiders left and they were trying to pull back and flee. "Get off your ass," he roared, "and don't let these bastards get away! we can follow their tracks back to their camp when they are all dead!"

"GO ROCKY GO!!!" Marcus yelled as he let the dog's collar go, Marcus got up and ran with him, shooting raiders as he went, the raider in the back of the force looked to be the leader, he was going into an old ware house, "There may be a record terminal in there Roland!"
Rocky took a raider down and bit his throat out with a gory site. Marcus thought "Dang, that dog can fight

-Name: Vladislav Petrenko
-six: Male
-Age: 39
Race: Russian
-Profession: Survivor. (Does what he has to to live to see tomorrow.
-History: The last remnant of Vancouver's Communist Embassy, which represented modern Russia before the war. The Petrenko family was sent over seas in the years preceding the war, was sort of a last remnant of Russian society before the bombings; they knew Vancouver would be spared. His father, Dmitri Petrenko, died recently, and he has been doing his best to get along with out him. Today is his 39th birthday... He is rather surprised to have made it...
-Equipment: Just a sack filled with the essentials; Bedroll, food for tomorrow, bullets, gun. That's it.
--Armour: Make shift leather armor, worn over an old Russian military uniform.
--weapons: His father's modified PPSh-41, a Russian submachine gun heavily modified to chamber the prevelant 10mm round. He has fifty-seven rounds left; the drum magazine carries seventy.
-Appearance: A Russian man who, despite his age, has a full head of dark grey hair and enough wrinkles to look fifty. The stress has aged him. Also, VERY thick Russian accent. Thicker than Dukov's.

Vladislav looked out. He had already blew out the candle on the dog meat cake he prepared the night before. The sounds of a battle were in the distance. He grabbed his small submachine gun, checked that it was cocked, and stood. Throwing the sling over his shoulder, he lifted the meat patty off the plate and started munching it. He climbed up the pile rubble and looked down two stories from the building he was in.

"What I wouldn't give for a dog like that," he said to himself, and headed to the elevator shaft. Checking that the rope was taught, his slide down. Letting go at the bottom floor, he threw his hood over his head. "Another day in Hell..."

"Stop Roland!!! Rocky! come!" Marcus saw a man that looked like a Russian in the distance, he had a big crazy machine gun.


Rocky came back, "Roland, duck, this guy could be a raider

The group's sniper had been carefully picking off raiders. He had decided to focus on the raiders that were either carrying larger guns or seemed to be in charge of the assault. Bai saw Marcus's dog take off and decided his best bet was to cover the dog since it needed more support than anyone else. Luckily, the dog turned around fairly quickly but Bai still had to tear the arm off a raider who raised its gun in its direction.

David never had a pet, but he had started to like the strays off the wasteland better than the racist bastards in Vancouver.

"Roland? Do we Keep pressing? that Russian, He isn't a raider, but, he is strange."

The raiders numbers were thinning do to the shooting of Marcus, Roland, and the sniper, not to mention that the dog had done some damage as well.

Roland stood up and began to cover the distance between himself and the now fleeing raiders, firing as he went.

"We have them on the run!" he shouted, "Follow them!"

Roland blew the leg off one of the raiders at the knee, then fired another round into it's head as he sprinted past.

Considering they had been ambushed on unfavourable ground after a long day of travel, they had done surprisingly well.

Tom slid into cover behind Roland. "Remember me?!" he yelled over gunfire as he shoved his assualt rifle over and fired blindly. He held the trigger until he heard a clicking sound, then pulled it back, rumaging through his bag for another clip before shoving it into the rifle and pulling back the firing pin. "We need to take them out quick. If we put up enough of a fight, they'll call for reinforcements." Tom hazarded a look and saw raiders charging torwards them. Every once and a while, one of them would fall after a loud bang. The last one drew Tom's eyes to a nearby tree, just as another flash and thunderous bang came from it. He hoped the raiders weren't as observant as he was as he popped around the cover and fired at a raider who got to close, who shook as rounds impacted into his chest and sent him to the ground. Tom pulled the dead raider by the leg torwards him, taking a grenade from his belt before rolling him away. He popped up once again, seeing a group of raiders briefly before he lowered his head, pulled the grenade pin, and chucked it in their relative area. A boom accompanied by pained screams rang out, grimly satisfying to Tom. He flopped his back against he cover and asked rather loudly "What's our next move!?"

Marcus looked around at he enemy's positions, they were hiding behind cover at their main building within their base.
"Ok guys, I got an idea, Roland, Press in the middle front line, I'll take the right flank, Tom, you take the left flank, and Bai, mount up on that rock, cover Roland's back, take the raiders out, and when all of the raiders are dead except for the leader, I'll send my dog out. If any snipers show up, we'll move into the warehouse to the right of me and hold 'em off."
Marcus then moved to the right, and shot the nearest raider he saw, he ducked behind a large rock, and told his loyal dog to stay put. He saw Roland going for the middle and sliding behind an old pile of junk. Bai got mounted on the highest rock scouting the area, continuing to shoot the commanding raiders. Marcus saw a raider in the distance, He looked out the ware house window, Marcus new it, That was the one that beat down my father before I ran!

A rage went through Marcus, and he had turned into something like a furious Chainsaw digging at wood with its metal teeth.

Name: Uruk Putamee
six: Male
Age: 26
Race: Caucasion
Profession: Regulator/ Bounty Hunter
History: Uruk Putamee, the few who have ever heard the name said he was a normal, quiet person who never stood out in a crowd besides the large scar over his left eye. Till' this day, he still does'nt know where he was born. He appeared upon the doorstep of the Regulator H.Q. as a baby in the area of what used to be Louisiana. His whole life he dedicated himself to the Regulator's cause, accepting missions and never encoutering a single difficulty. Some would say that he had noble attributes to him, others would say he was brainwashed...Either way, in his heart, Uruk wanted to move on...To somewhere else with a greater need for a savior...A Regulator...Uruk got his wish...Regulator Amerigo of the Louisiana Regulators had Uruk meet with her one day. She requested that he go to one of the last surviving cities of America to set up Regulator relations there or help any active Regulators there...Vancouver... For two months straight, Uruk traveled with two other Regulators to set up relations in Vancouver...In the end he was the only one who could continue on...The others had met more abrupt and less heroic ends...He arrived in Vancouver and saw the dissaray in the city, he eventually met a man who he deemed one with a purpose...A just purpose...That was Roland Tiernay...
Equipment: Regulator Duster, Leather Hat with steel plating, sniper rifle and rounds, combat knife, some stimpacks and a Regulator I.D.
Appearance: Short Brown hair, blue eyes, 5 feet tall and scar over left eye.