It is 2082 and after five years, the Capital is changing. The Brotherhood with the support of the Lone Wanderer assaulted Raven Rock and destroyed the base. Yet in the light of the attack, the Enclave launched a counterassault upon Citadel with its Vertibirds killing many of the Brotherhood members. The Enclave retreated to Adams to heal and the power of Lyons Brotherhood was weakened.

In the next five years, factions have risen to dominance as city states. Megaton has grown larger while the Outcasts are readying for an attack on the weakened Lyons Brotherhood over its long doctrinal differences. Tenpenny Towers grew to absorbing the Warrington Train yard/Station becoming a regional power while Girdershade has grown into powerful trading hub for incoming Eastern traders, and similarly Canterbury Common becoming a Hub for all Capital Wasteland trade. These city states have grown in large power, becoming inlfuenctial in the Capital wastes. In the end, a storm is brewing as each faction whether or not, set their sights upon claiming Columbia, and sitting upon its thrones ruling its entire lands.

--

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Ulysses S. Grant

at

National Guard Depot

Ulysses sat down at his desk and looked around the depot, it amazed at how well his men could fix the place up and get it back into working condition. He quickly grabbed a bottle of purified water and leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk, he drank the bottle quickly and stared blankly at the wall, being lazy wasn't one of his strong suites. Giving a slight moan, he leaned his head back

He shot up when one of his soldiers came in to his office

"Report soldier"

the man stood there with a pump shotgun in hand

"Scouts have told us that more and more groups are claiming territory everyday, it may be wise to gain some allies before we're ganged up on"

Ulysses gave him a brief stare before answer,

"Get 6 Regulators ready, I'll go and speak with some factions on the matter"

The soldier looked stunned,

"But sir are you sure its wise for you to go into occupied terri..."

Ulysses cut him off before he could finish,

"Enough, get my men together immediately"

Ulysses watched as the man ran off to go gather his men,

He quickly got up from his seat and picked his Plasma rifle off the ground and pulled it in front of him before leaving the room and walking to the front entrance,

opening the doors he watched as 6 men stood around putting ammunition into there weapons within the stone walls that were built up in front of the entrance

"Let's move out"

' Chainsaw ' Ramsey - The Pitt Train Tunnel

A lone bird floated in the sky, calling out into the wind every so often, circling the Pitt's central camp in the DC wasteland. Restless raiders shuffled about the perimeter, shifting their assault rifles in their hands, sometimes yelling back to their comrades, cracking a crude joke about whatever suited them. Inside, around the pens, the raiders stuck with babysitting prowled around the cages, shouting at the terrified, battered slaves. The growled and snapped into the cages, wracking them and screaming obscenities while the slaves simply shook. A raider's day. A few of the others sat at the massive front gate, or along the catwalks, rifles at the ready. The two heavy machine guns set upon the walls at both sides - not far from the crest of the barriers - peered out from their nests into the near motionless wastes, a lone gunner at each of them. On a hill beside the camps walls, a single lawn chair lay, a man seated inside it. A thick, bushy beard upon his face, a cigarette in his mouth, he simply watched his men patrolling the territory they had claimed. A raid had been sent off to intercept another trading caravan and the slave pens were getting full, the man was content.

Ramsey, the raider-boss of the Train Tunnel camp, sat, taking a long drag on his cigarette before taking from his mouth. He studied it a moment and mumbled to himself, " Tastes like [censored], " before flicking it into the dirt beside his chair, the hiss dying into the sands. He reached for the whiskey sitting on the chair's arm and took a swig, closing his eyes and savoring the burn. A smoke and some booze, nothing better for Ramsey. It was one of the few activities he really enjoyed, along with killing and beating slaves. Just as Ramsey leaned back in his chair and stretched a bit, he heard footsteps on the rocks. Turning, he rose from his chair to his full height, and watched his own second, Flint, approach.

" I told you boy, you pipe up when you come around out here, " he reminded as he spat. " Another step and I coulda blown your leg off, ya never know who could be out here. I trust the boys, but they ain't always watching very closely. Anyway, you got something to tell me? "

Flint, just a bit shorter than Ramsey with a rough stubble and a serious look, stopped just short of his commander and jerked his thumb back toward the wastes. " Boss, it's time, your meeting with those Paradise Falls guys is in a few hours. You'll need to get moving soon, I'll keep an eye on the guys and make sure they don't kill the slaves or get too drunk on watch. "

Ramsey grinned, " That's why I like you, Flint. Straight to the point. Good job on the reminder, take care of things until I get back, or you'll be the one the boys string up next, " he said in passing, not at all joking, and went to meet the gathering posse of raiders. It would be awhile to get to the Falls, but Ramsey had some ideas on how to pass the time.

Paradise Falls Slavers- North East Capital Wasteland

"Well I'm going to tell you right now sir, you're going to get a hell of a deal if you go with this one. He's a bit young true, but I know that look on his face. He's a worker, and don't you worry we broke him in good and well so ain't no way he'll even think about running away. The spirits all crushed out of him. Heh heh."

One of Paradise Falls lead under-bosses, Forty, leaned against a chain-link slave pen which held a large number of slaves in rough-spun outfits. Some were standing, others with sitting or leaning against the wall of the super-market building while a couple looked like they might be sleeping: or perhaps dead, it was hard to tell.

Next to Forty, a gruff looking man in a raw hide outfit stood scratching his long beard with his left hand, while he held a well-worn hat in his right,

"Well....I don't know about this. I mean I've never bought a slave a'fore. Its just that....well since my boy died, I've got no-one to help me on my ranch. I need someone to look after my brahmin, and help me hunt and such....and keep my property safe...."

"Hey, hey, hey, hey," Forty said, throwing his hands up in front of him, "Ain't gotta explain anything to me man. Its a harsh world out there, and we don't make any judgments or assumptions. We sell a product here. None of our business what a buyer does with it. If you need a ranch-hand, well a slave will do just as well. [censored] man you'll probably give that boy there a better life than what he had before. Hell all we did was find him crawling around in a drainage grate with a bunch of rats. Some of em' were as big as my arm I swear."

Suddenly, young boy jumped up and smashed his hands against the fench, "LIAR!" He called out, "YOU [censored] LI...."

His body went limp all of a sudden as his slave collar began shocking him, he fell to the floor writhing and scratching at the metal around his neck. Surprised, both Forty and the rancher turned around. Behind them, holding the button on the slave collar's control device, was a man dressed in a smart black business suit with a long overcoat to match. A cane hung limply on his arm and following him at his heels was a pair of large doberman guard dogs,

"If it makes you feel better Mr. Thompson," Crowley said as he began walking up to the pair with a sly smile, "Think of it as an adoption. But whatever you decide do it quick, I haven't got the time to waste dawdling on undecided buyers today."

"I'll take him," the rancher replied, turning to Forty quickly, "How much did you say? 300 caps?"

"400 and you can have his little sister as well," Crowley interjected, "She'll make a good house-keeper when she comes of age and I'm getting tired of hearing her wailing at night. Besides, wouldn't want to break up the family would you?"

The man nodded solemnly, and began to open his bag to count out the rolls of caps,

"Good choice, sir," Crowley said as he began turning away, he then glanced over at Forty, "Finish the deal here Forty and then meet me in my quarters. We need to make a few last minute arrangements concerning the up-coming visit of our business partners."

"Sure thing boss," Forty said quickly, "Any thing else Mr. Crowley sir?"

"And tell Clover and Leroy to come with you, I've got a job for them. Come boys."

Heeding the call of their master, the two dogs gave a growl and scampered off in tow behind Crowley, leaving Forty and the rancher to finish the transaction,

"Is that who I thought it was?" The rancher whispered in a low tone as handed Forty over the caps.

"Yep, that'd be the Crow. My boss. Seems to be in a good mood today....he was originally planning on selling the girl separately to a different buyer. But looks like its your lucky day little man!," he yelled out as he opened the gate to slave pen, giving the young boy a good hard shake, "You'd better thank that Ramsey fella at the Pitt for that. You owe him your sister."

Alan MacDougal at Metro Central

Alan clambered up the stairs of the metro at a slow pace. "Only a weakling such as me would have problems with stairs" thought Alan. He laughed quietly to himself and moved further up the stairs. Alan was never as strong as, well anybody, but his ageing ghoul body never really helped. His partner, or brother rather, had always been what he wasn't. Not that it mattered anyway though. "Only Ben could be so strong and so stupid" Alan had thought. Of course Alan would never say that to Ben in person. It was however, very true.

When the first light of the Wastes came into view, Alan grimaced. Being a ghoul who had lived underground, it had been so long since he had stepped outside. When his eyes had adjusted, he took a look around. The many ruined buildings of DC came into view. The sight of these buildings was a saddening one to behold. It always took a toll on him to see a once great city in ruins. He remembered his days as a child before the war, clinging to his mom's hands as they went sightseeing through the nations landmarks. His house had not been far from here and he had been planning to make a trip to his old dwelling. That is of course, if he could muster up the courage to go and if his brother would be willing. For he would never go far from their base if his colossal sized, monster of a brother, Ben wasn't near.

After a recollection of old days, Alan set out for what he originally came to do. He pulled out a small pair of binoculars and surveyed the North of their position. There sat a large force of well armed men that were ready for combat. To Alan, they seemed to be a pesky force of raiders. However his scouts had told him different. They claimed that this force of "raiders" were definitely a force to be reckoned with and from what the scouts gathered, they called themselves the Regulations or Rescuers (They hadn't gotten close enough to really hear the name). Whatever the case, Alan hoped they wouldn't be as bad as they were reported to be. Alan then turned his attention to the West. Most of his scouts were unable to get close without being seen, but they had managed to spot some of their scavengers roaming about in the DC ruins. From what was in Alan's view, he could just make out a small glint. It looked to be an old American flag. Alan liked the idea of a nation gathering under a pre-war flag, it reminded him of his childhood. Whatever nation this was, he wanted to definitely know more about it. Now, turning to the South, Alan made out a nation across the river. It was much to far to see, with his binoculars even. However he could see that whatever it was, seemed highly industrialized and he hoped to find more about it as well.

After a long look at his surroundings, Alan headed back inside. He was shocked to see that many small settlements had sprung up, and were situated around them. "I really need to get out more." muttered Alan. These surroundings were a scary sight. If fighting broke out between these nations, what would his settlement of ghouls become? Alan, did not like what he saw. He did not like it at all.

Dex

Fort Bannister:

Dex stood there looking at the flag hanging from the wall, with a questioning look on his face. Is Bannister really a secured place for Talon company, he kept asking himself. The Lone wanderer was able to kill Commander Jabsco in cold blood. Dex was walking around his office still asking the question in his head. One of His Lieutenants entered the room, LT. Bradshaw one of Dex's men that report anything that happens to the outpost or other territories

LT. Bradhsaw with a blank emotion on his face and an assault rifle in his hands

"Sir, we have nothing to report"

Dex looked back at him and walked up to Bradshaw

"Good work sir, I have a plan of action that we will need to take"

Dex brought Bradshaw over to his desk where a map of the wasteland was lying on top of it.

Dex placed his hand over Fort Bannister and Evergreen Mills

"This is where our territory lies, I feel that Fort Bannister is not going to hold out forever"

Dex then looked towards the north west of Fort Bannister.

"This is where I want to set up our new HQ. From what I have heard it's occupied but we should be able to take it with a small army."

Dex looked at LT. Bradshaw and put his hand on Bradshaw's shoulder

"I need you too gather our mercs and bring them here. After that I need you to personally go to Paradise Falls, we have no need for those occupants but i'm sure they'll want them."

Bradshaw looked back at Dex

"yes sir"

Bradshaw turned around and walked out of the room. Dex then walked up to his locker opened it up and grabbed his assault rifle and combat knife. Dex turned at look towards the flag of Talon Company, he knew War was coming and Talon Company will be ready. Dex then walked out of his office, and prepared for his first assault on Little Lamplight.

Kyle Labhart - Georgetown Station

"Don't worry, I don't mean any harm."

Kyle gripped his plasma rifle and looked downward. The old, bearded man who had hollered from below looked up at him with anticipation. He stood up from his leaning position against the rail, lowered his rifle, and slowly strolled toward the broken escalator.

"Sir, are you sure?" asked a raspy, rugged voice. Kyle turned to face the inquisitive soldier. The man, like Kyle had before, was leaning against the rail above the metro tunnel. The ghoul was tall, muscular, but looked like he lacked confidence in general.

"Don't worry. We have, how many..." Kyle pointed exaggeratingly at the several snipers lined up across the deck as if to count them. "...Six snipers on the deck. Just keep watch." The ghoul nodded. At that, Kyle cautiously descended the broken escalator steps, steadily holding his rifle. It was hard to see in the dark of the underground metro station. He waded around in the dark, using the light on the end of his plasma rifle to guide him. Within a few seconds, Kyle was able to find the old man who had yelled at them from above. He looked above to the top of the deck to ensure that he was being watched by his snipers.

"What do you want from us? Why are you here?" mumbled Kyle.

The old man hadn't seen Kyle coming. He turned with a frightened look, as if he had been startled. The elderly man was clad in a simple leather outfit, with a small pistol in his holster. "Y-you....You have to help us."

"With what? You stand in the presence of the Wolves, and ask us for a favor? We are not mercenaries, old man," said Kyle with a rather irritated tone in his voice.

"No, no, no, not a favor. P-please, don't turn me away. I....we... need help," replied the man in a scared, shaky manner.

"Mhm?" Kyle was staring to speak condescendingly.

"My town. It was burned to the ground by raiders. There are twenty two of us left. Can you please admit us?"

"Are they with you now?"

"No. Well...yes. They are further down the tunnel. They sent me to see if we had gone the right way."

"And you found us."

"Yes."

"Well, can you describe the group you're traveling with?"

"The raiders... We knew they were coming. We took almost all of the men out to chase them off our territory, and while we were gone, they ransacked and burned the town. They killed everyone. The women. The childr--"

Kyle interrupted the man. "Mister....? I was asking about the group you're with. I care nothing about your past."

"We took eighteen of our men out, all of which are with me now. We have four survivors from our town otherwise. An elderly couple that wasn't found, and hid under their beds, the son of one of our soldiers, and a woman who...well... I don't know how she survived, to be honest."

"And if we absorbed what's left of your town into the Wolves, your men could become productive soldiers?" asked Kyle.

The man looked upward in thought for a moment. "Yes, I suppose."

"Uh huh. Thank you. Return to your group. I'll send word to your crew in due time." The old man nodded in reply. Kyle turned away from the man, and quickly ascended to the top of the deck. He looked at the ghoul sniper on the deck who had had spoken to before. "Murray, keep these men here and make sure that this man nor his crew can come in without my say so."

***

Kyle stood up and addressed the four other men inside of the small office. "Council, I have called a meeting because we have an interesting situation."

The man on the left side of the table, wearing a dirty, tattered business suit, raised an eyebrow. "Must be interesting, definitely. It's only six in the morning." He yawned and groaned.

Kyle addressed the man who had spoken to him. "Mister Morgan, a man approached Georgetown station with a party of more than twenty. He wants to integrate into the Wolves. Town was burned, or something... I don't care about that. What I care about is that of this party of twenty two, *eighteen* of them are grown men who can be trained into soldiers."

The other men at the table nodded with content faces. A man from the right side of the table, wearing eyeglasses and a leather jacket, leaned forward. "Are you going to train them?"

"Of course. I always do."

"This is the biggest integration Georgetown has had..."

"Yes, I know. What's your point, Mister Kennedy?"

"I'm the one in charge of the scavenging team, and thus, I am obligated to point out the fact that we're going to need a lot of supplies for these new soldiers. We've ransacked all of the areas within safe distance."

Kyle sighed and nodded. "Alright. I'll oversee a scavenging team, guarded by several of my soldiers, and we'll delve deeper into the ruins this time."

The other man on the right end of the table furrowed his brow. "Atomic League's been creeping out of its tunnels from time to time, according to our scouts. They don't seem the type to shoot someone over supplies, but watch your ass, Labhart. We aren't the only power inside of D.C. anymore."

Kyle smiled and chuckled. "This meeting is dismissed."

Ulysses S. Grant

at

Georgetown

Ulysses walked with his group of 6 men all around him, all of them armed to the teeth in weaponry

It was both good for them and bad for them, they were armed to defend themselves however they could easily attract bandits

------------

After a short hike, or what seemed like a short hike to the team they reached a town that was reported by scouts to be called George town. Of course it spiked interest in Ulysses that a town existed so close to the regulators, scouts also reported a settlement of ghouls almost right next to them which they'd also like to speak with, luckily they hadn't seen any violent behavior from either of them in the past, so it would be a great place to start making trade rhoutes and alliances.

A soldier at Ulysses side spoke to him as they came close to the towns borders,

"Are you sure we should be doing this?"

Ulysses looked at him,

"Stop whining. Your a regulator, act like one"

The regulator looked like he was going to say something but then settled down

Coming up to the border of the town each regulator had there guns at the ready,

Ulysses looked at the town and yelled

"We are the Regulators, we'd like to speak with this towns 'leader' immediately"

http://nekofunnyvampirexd.deviantart.com/art/Maria-Thorpe-407077490, Grandmastress of the Chapter – Saint Catherine Tunnels – Grandmaster’s Office

“We are in a precarious position. While this city has grown in profits due to incoming traders from Girdershade and Canterbury, we are only a few miles away from the Diablo’s of the East Grandmastress. As Arch-Paladin of the Knights, we must forge alliances with other factions.”

“That is true. I never realized this until now Arch-Paladin Ashcroft” said Belmont sitting at her desk thinking.

“Personally, Megaton would be a good start to forge an alliance. The Outcast to may be concerned of the rising power of Talon Company, but most of all the Regulators will be very concerned.”

“Indeed. It is sad to see how such violet groups exist in these wastes and we must fight to survive and spread the word of God in a dangerous world. Though I don’t think Talon would be stupid to attack us immediately considering our defenses, and our Knights. Talon wouldn’t want to start a war with us immediately. What is more important is finding a workable radio tower. Contact with the Order is imminent.”

“The scouting unit I sent days ago to the South didn’t find anything. I sent a unit to scour the Falls Church-Arlington-Alexandria area if they can find anything and another unit Northeast past Bethseda. Our knights have also sent warning of trespassing into the West due to its Talon company territory.”

“Good, good. Keep up with me” said Belmont.

Suddenly a crackle sound came from a ham radio on Belmont’s desk. She grabbed them microphone of the ham radio and putted on the ear plugs.

“Talk to me. Who is this?”

“This is MacAllese, we made a significant find while clearing the tunnels. You should check out.”

“I’ll be there after finishing up discussion with Ashcroft.”

Belmont took off ear plugs and placed it aside the microphone.

“What did MacAllese find” said Ashcroft curiously.

“A significant find. Let’s check out.”

“Will do Grandmaster.”

Kyle Labhart - Georgetown Square

The two wolves in front of the group of regulators led them to the town square quietly. Then, of course, they let loose their signature howl, which both of them did in unison. The door of a townhouse down the street abruptly opened, and a tall, muscular man, rifle in hand, strolled out. He made his way to the regulators in the square. Kyle held his rifle firmly as he approached the group. Kyle himself then did howl, and several other soldiers quickly entered the square. They formed a semi-circle around the group, rifles pointed.

Kyle motioned for the soldiers to lower their weapons. He lowered his rifle as well. "...Mister Grant. Your reputation proceeds you. As much as I respect your order, one would wonder why you have strolled into my town uninvited." He had a stern, confident, and intimidating look across his face. It was obvious that he was trying to frighten the regulators, however playful his intentions were.

Ulysses S. Grant

at

Georgetown

Ulysses and his men followed the two wolves into the town square,

He smiled and held himself back from letting out a small chuckle when the men howled,

Everyone of his men held their weapons tightly and watched as they formed a semi circle around them and aimed at them, each of the regulators raised there weapons at a different member of the wolves

Ulysses however had his plasma rifle in one hand and let it hang down his thigh, he showed no fear of these men, it was obvious to him that they had no intention of firing upon them, they wouldn't risk an all out war with the regulators,

One man who was obviously the leader told the wolves to lower their weapons, When each of the wolves lowered there weapons Ulysses put his hand up signaling his men to do the same

the man spoke,

"...Mister Grant. Your reputation proceeds you. As much as I respect your order, one would wonder why you have strolled into my town uninvited."

Ulysses face showed no expression at all, except for a small smirk

"Territories around the Capitol wasteland have been growing larger in the past few months..."

He paused for a moment,

"We'd like to ensure who our allies are... and who are enemies are"

"So which are you?"

Ulysses obviously had more to discuss, however he wanted to make sure these men weren't the enemies before discussing anymore

Kyle "The Father of Wolves" Labhart - Georgetown Square

Kyle frowned at Ulysses. "I don't do ultimatums. You could be Sarah Lyons in lingerie asking one and I still wouldn't agree to an ultimatum. They have always been something that I despise. Something that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up. The 'with us or against us' scheme does nothing except give me an impression that you will end up being dangerous at some point." Many of the men surrounding the group chuckled at the comment about Lyons.

After a few seconds of standing still and looking at all of his men silently, Kyle spoke again. "As much as I respect the regulators, and your duty, I see no reason for us to ally. You have no business raking your claws inside of DC." He paused for a moment. "However, with that being said, I don't object to trading arrangements. However, unless there is a clear benefit coming to Georgetown out of it, I don't wish to affiliate with anyone outside of the city. I wish to remain neutral with your people, Grant."

OOC: I'm going to be getting off soon so I'm going to try and quickly wrap it up soon so you can do other things

Ulysses S. Grant

at

Georgetown

It was a arbitrary response, one Ulysses wasn't quite happy with however it would work

Ulysses thought for a moment before responding

"My men can supply weaponry, and food"

Ulysses paused

"And what will you be bringing to the table exactly?"

Kyle Labhart - Georgetown Square

Kyle smirked as he began to think about Ulysses' question. "I can supply water. Purified water. I can also guarantee you safe passage through DC under my supervision, if you should need to. Such a thing would have to be sent to confirmed by the council beforehand, of course."

?Thomas Edfield - Fort Independence Sublevel

"I'll ask you one more time savage....what exactly did you think you were doing, snooping around our home, stealing! from my people"

Thomas paced back and forth in front of the chair, turning a combat knife over and over in his hands. The man had been caught around the outskirts of Fairfax, rummaging through an old store looking for canned goods. The patrol had brought the man back, he was a wreck, he kept whining about having a family to feed back in Megaton. No one believed him of course, it was probably a sob story, he might have been a spy looking for a weakness, Brotherhood even.

One of Lyon's mongrel dogs looking to pillaged Independence, Thomas shuddered at the thought. He calmly wiped the blood off the knife, twirled in his hands, and then drove it down into the man's left leg. He let him suffer for awhile, then grabbed a stimpack from the table and jammed it into his arm.

Can't let him die before all the fun is over can we?

"I'm feeling generous today dog, now....one more time..." Thomas closed his power armored fist around the man's throat. "tell me what I want to know.....unless you want to lose some more fingers...I'm sure you don't do you?"

"I....I was looking..."

"For what! What were you looking for?" Thomas screamed at him, his fist began to tighten around the man's neck.

"Food......for my family....Megaton.." The man gasped, it was starting to be difficult to breath.

"[censored] pitiful" Thomas lifted the man up by his neck and threw him against the wall, his body made a meaty thud as he landed on the metal floor.

"Jenkins!" Thomas called out to the soldier guarding the door "Fix this poor bastard up and prepare a troop to march for Megaton. savages have overstepped their bounds again." Thomas stormed out of the room in disgust, his red cape swishing behind him as he headed for the surface.

Ulysses S. Grant

at

Georgetown

Ulysses gave the offer some though before responding,

"We'll occasionally make a trade for purified water however we may also, at times, only take caps"

Ulysses,

"Now, our caravans will start showing up within 48 hours"

"I'll be on my way"

Kyle Labhart - Georgetown

Kyle nodded at the man in farewell. "Very well. Although 'tis unlikely that I will be around to handle all of the caravans." As the regulators took their leave from the town, he nodded at his men. "At ease. Back to work." The crowd of soldiers in the square dispersed and Kyle returned to his home. He returned to what he was originally doing, which was writing a letter on a desk in his bedroom. He ascended to his room and picked up his pen again to continue writing.

***

After finishing the letter, Kyle quickly folded the piece of paper. He left his townhome quickly and raced to the council office, which was located only a small ways down the street. As he barged into the room, he noticed that two council members were still sitting at the table in the office.

"Don't you people ever get rest?" asked Kyle. Both men shook their heads.

"Is there something we can do, Labhart?" asked one of the men at the table.

"Yes, in fact. Next time the scavenger team passes through, alter their destination." Kyle handed Mister Kennedy, the man who was speaking, the folded letter. He opened it and quickly skimmed the text. Kennedy nodded at Kyle.

"I need to take my leave. I have some defenses to arrange," said Kyle as he quickly left the office.

Supreme Commander Alan Sutler, Adams

"You may be seated compatriots," Alan Sutler said dismissively to the members of Congress whom had stood to attention as he entered the room at the height of Crawler's tower. They had likely been stood there are attention for at-least ten minutes, Sutler having been running late.

"All right compatriots, weekly reports then we can get down to business; Colonel Granite, you may proceed."

"Thank you, Your Excellency," Granite said humbly; the grizzled old man was Sutler's closest friend and confident. "We have no significant incidents to report, Your Excellency, however if I may speak with the Honourable Overseer," he indicated Overseer Wolfram Crenshaw he nodded courteously. "I think it may be time that we considered consulting the wasteland town of Megaton with regards to the construction of Camp Autumn."

Sutler scowled coldly, that they should have to ask some mainlander sub-humans for what amounted to permission to construct the facility made his blood boil, however it would be prudent; these were different times for the Enclave, Sutler was from a generation who's only dealings with mainlanders was though a pair of iron-sights. If America sought to increase its control over this region now however it would have to maintain "relations" with the local populace beyond that of open threats, the proposed compound was to be built in a barren patch of land outside Vault 101 that Megaton never-the-less considered its own and it would at-least be practical to ensure the local tribal chieftain that they meant them no harm; the last thing that the Enclave needed was some knuckle-dragging sub-humans from Megaton harassing Army personnel around Vault 101. The Overseer looked weary of making the proposal but Granite was more relaxed, knowing what he - Sutler - was likely thinking.

"I guess it would be advisable to inform this slum of our intentions," Sutler said finally. "Best not to ruffle the locals, without a biological weapon we may have to do things the old-fashioned way, best to make them complacent and not interfere in our affairs at the site. Colonel you can deal with this one personally, ensure whomever is in-charge of that cesspit that we have no ill-intentions and request the land for the construction of our compound."

* * * * *

Colonel Santiago Granite, Megaton

Granite's Vertibird touched down on the barren patch of land outside Vault 101 they intended to own, the residents who lived in Springvale always stared at the Enclave when they arrived.

"Inform me of your progress," Overseer Crenshaw yellow over the roar of the Vertibird as he stepped out with his guards and returned to the Vault, the bird took off behind them leaving Granite and a couple of power-armoured guards on the field outside of Megaton.

"You there citizen," Granite bawled at a nearby Megaton resident who was walking through one of Springvale's battered pre-war roads, she froze solid at Granite as he pointed at her and marched towards her. "Who is in-charge and where is he?"

"You'll be looking for Chancellor Connelly," the women blurted out. "He's in the city over there," she pointed to the scrap heap that was downtown Megaton.

"Good," Granite said coldly, motioning for his men to follow him as he marched down the streets of Springvale to Megaton. "Chancellor indeed," he thought to himself with a scoff as he approached the great scrap walls.

He was stopped by a local militiamen whilst approaching the settlement.

"Whoa there," said, holding his rifle but not pointing it at Granite. "What are you Enclave boys looking for here?"

"Your leader, a Chancellor Connelly, we have a business proposition for him."

"Well if it's a business proposition you might want to speak to Councillor Moriarty..."

"Not an actual business proposition," Granite said, scowling beneath his business, a matter of state and state affairs, from America to your settlement. We would wish to communicate with him. Take us too him."

Alan MacDougal at Metro Central

Alan walked back down the cracked and dirty metro steps. He thought that his brief period of physical exhaustion was finally over. However, moments ago, he had received word that the settlement with the old world flag, would like to discuss different matters. Now, this was not bad news to Alan. In fact, it couldn't have been better. Since he laid eyes upon that pre-war flag, he had been intrigued by the town. Now known to him as Georgetown, controlled by the Wolves, he could finally get a glimpse of, at least one of the surrounding dwellings.

The cages housing the feral's rattled as Alan walked by. They were no doubt angry that they were being held captive within their own Metro. Alan felt a moment of regret as he stopped to look at them all. He didn't want to put them in cells like prisoners, but he had to. Most of the rational ghouls in the Atomic League had agreed that they wouldn't live here unless, in their eyes, this inferior species were caged. It was a depressing thought that his civilization had to be so prejudiced towards these feral's when they themselves were often looked upon as lesser beings. It didn't matter to them, that without the feral's they would have really no force of protection. When these thoughts moved on, so did Alan. His primary object at the moment was to find Ben and trek across the wastes towards Georgetown. Setting off at the fastest pace he could muster, he walked along the metro. He said hello to many of the ghouls that he past. Most were just lying about, others were cleaning their firearms that they had in case of an intrusion. In a matter of minutes, he found Ben lying on the ground. "Ben, you alright?" asked Alan. "I just tired" remarked Ben. As said before, he wasn't a bright bulb. "Well my big ghoul brother, we got work to do." Alan then explained the situation to him. Ben tried to listen as much as he could, but Alan doubted he got much of it. "I know that might have been a little to much, but just follow me." Alan said. "You'll watch for trouble and I'll lead."

(Location change) Georgetown

Alan and Ben walked up towards the large town. The settlement astonished Alan. It was heavily fortified but its most interesting part to Alan, was its flag. The pre-war American flag flew high above on a building within the town. Curiosity burned inside Alan. His previous fear was of course still there in the pit of his stomach, as it always was, but his interest in the fort seemed to burn there as well. Walking up towards the entrance with a confidence fueled by curiosity, he waited with the pass phrase in mind.

Paradise Falls Slavers- Crowley's Quarters

Inside the old pre-war cinema which for many years had always been the personal quarters of the leader of Paradise Falls, the main room was dimly lit and furnished with a pair of fairly comfortable looking couches along with a table and a pair of chairs. Towards the very back of the room in the center was Crowley's desk, which had an old pre-war office chair placed behind it. A small lamp and computer terminal sat atop the desk.

Unlike Eulogy Jones who tended to keep his quarters as his personal "bachelor pad" and party room, Crowley utilized a far more utilitarian approach. There were no empty whiskey bottles strewn about and certainly no giant heart-shaped bed in the center: just a few comforts. Crowley's own personal room where he slept every night was located upstairs in one of side-rooms. The downstairs area was now only used for doing business: a change that the new leader had much preferred.

Seated at his desk with his two large guard dogs at his side: Shadow and Ripper, Crowley faced his three under-bosses who now stood before him. Forty was Crowley's slave-master, as he had been under Eulogy Jones, and was in charge of overseeing the slave pens and making sure the slaves stayed locked up. Clover, who used to be one of Eulogy Jones's bodyguards before she was freed at Crowley's own behest, now served as the primary saleswoman for Paradise Falls, although any of the under-bosses could close a sale well enough: and often did. Crowley believed though that a more "feminine" touch was appropriate for wooing many potential buyers, and Clover had become quite good at what she did by masking her usual crazed demeanor behind the facade of a gentle lady. Last but not least, was Leroy Walker who's task as under-boss was very simple: he was responsible for overseeing Paradise Fall's slaving crews and thus bringing in new meat.

"Forty," Crowley began, turning first to the slave-master, "I believe you know exactly what I'm about to tell you. I saw some fairly pitiful looking slaves out there just now. Your job is to keep those slaves looking presentable for buyers, not to allow them to wallow in their filth and die. I'll not have dead and sickly slaves being shown to our friend from the Pitt. Get rid of them."

"I was about to get on it after I was finished with the rancher. I'll take care of it now. Boys could use a bit of sport anyway."

Without missing a beat, Crowley continued, turning next to Clover,

"Glad to see you decided to dress appropriately for the occasion this time," He said, making mention of the somewhat dirty pre-war business suit she wore in lieu of her usual raider attire, "I want you with me when we meet the Pitt representative. Let me do the talking, but I could use an under-boss on hand to close the deal."

"Whatever you say boss," Clover said as she ran her hand through her hair.

Finally Crowley looked next to Leroy, who had his arms folded in front of him. His metal armor was marred with bits of rust and what looked to be dried blood,

"Leroy," Crowley began, "You're going out today."

"On a hunt boss?" Leroy said, perking up suddenly.

"Yes, on a hunt, a large one at that. I've been receiving messages requesting slaves from a number of different factions recently. Far more than I anticipated actually, and we need to be adequately prepared. With the Pitt's upcoming purchase, I want to make sure we have enough stock in order to meet the demand. I won't have it said that Paradise Falls failed to meet a slave order."

Leroy grinned widely, he hadn't been on a hunt in a few weeks at least, and he had been itching for one for awhile. As far as he was concerned his place was in the wasteland, not penned up at Paradise,

"Well boss..." He replied, scratching his beard thoughtfully, "If we're talking about a large hunt, I'll need a sizable amount of men with me. Can't do it with my regular crew."

"I'm giving you leave of six crews Walker," Crowley replied as he began writing something on a piece of paper, "90 men and 15 dogs between them. Is that sufficient?"

Leroy let out a audible whistle,

"Jesus boss, ain't been a slaving crew that large in quite awhile."

"Not since the Black Widow," Clover chimed in suddenly.

"Precisely," Crowley responded simply before he continued writing, "My orders follow thusly Leroy: I want you to take your force and wheel East, scouring the landscape as you go. Divide up your force as you see fit, but always ensure you have a sufficient number of men with you. Once you arrive at the Temple of the Union, I believe you're familiar with it, I want you to put the place to the torch. I've grown tired of the scant rumors we've heard about a safe haven for slaves being created there. Leave no-one alive and demolish the building: or what remains of it anyway."

"After that you'll turn West once more and drive straight towards Meresti: and then from there, Big Town. I trust you understand what to do next?"

"Slave em' all and let you sort em' out," Leroy replied with a grin.

"Correct," Crowley said, as he folded up the piece of paper and placed it in an envelope. He then reached over to the left of his desk and pulled forth a small cup of what appeared to be inky black liquid. Carefully, he poured the black wax onto the envelope and then took out a stamp and gave it a good hard press.

The letter now bore Crowley's "seal": a black crow. Which he had adopted as his personal insignia. He handed the letter to Leroy,

"And when that is done, I want you to send a few good men and get a letter to Fort Bannister."

"Talon Company?" Leroy replied with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes..Talon Company, Leroy. Make sure you let them know who you are. They should let your men pass when they see you are from Paradise."

"And if not," Crowley concluded as he began to pet both his guard dogs, "Then I suppose I'll have my answer regardless."

Kyle Labhart - Georgetown

"Boss, we have two visitors at the front gate. Both ghouls." The wolf soldier had barged into the council office.

"Good. I've been expecting them. Take me to them," replied Kyle as he stood up from the empty table. Kyle and the soldier left the building and walked across the tight, partially collapsed path next to the man-made pond.

Upon reaching the gate, Kyle took a long gaze at the two ghouls behind the gate before approaching even closer. "I gave a pass phrase. What is it?"

Alan MacDougal and Ben Castillo at Georgetown

Ben watched Alan bounce nervously on the balls of his feet. His moment of confidence was gone, now Alan was back to the timid and shy character he had always been. "Why you Scared?" questioned Ben. "We not being attacked by ant, like travels here" At this Ben gave a laugh. On there way up to Georgetown they had past a giant ant. Ben, as always, easily dispatched it. It had however, left Alan in a fit of hysterics. Only after weeping and shaking for several more minutes did Alan decide to move on. "That thing was huge!" argued Alan "It could have eaten me!" Ben laughed once more, "It not that big!" "Easy for you to say" muttered Alan. Only seconds had past by when two men approached the gate. One had had the looks of an ordinary rank and file solider. The other however, was a sight to behold. He stood over 6 ft tall, around Ben's height in fact, and had a muscular build. It couldn't have been scarier for Alan to see a man about the size of his brother. He always thought, that if millions of creatures who couldn't harm Ben, no one could. But this guy was huge and Alan now believed him to be the leader, Kyle Labhart. Alan pondered these thoughts. He might never have realized that the man was standing less then a couple feet away, until Ben gave him a nudge. "...pass phrase. What is it?" said the leader of Georgetown. "Oh uh" struggled Alan as he tried to bring himself out of his jumpy state. "there is no heart with greater nobility than that of the wolf." recalled Alan. He hoped he hadn't screwed something up, and waited for the man to reply.

Vance, Trader of the Catherinian Arms Company, Georgetown West

Vance observed the surrounding of the ruins of of D.C. He saw a Metro station that said "Georgetown West." His curiosity peaked and slowly with Eleanor a misisonary, a few guards and his Brahmin entered into the metro station.

The metro was dimly lit. As Vance caravan group continued light appeared on his face.

"Halt, who are you and state your purpose. Your in Wolves territory now" said the Ghoul holding the flashlight as guards are around him. They were holding their weapons but were not pointing at Vance.

Vance took a few seconds to regain composure and then spoke calmly.

"I'm a trader from the city of Saint Catherine of the Catherinian Arms Company. Our city is West of the Potomac. I seek only to trade."

The guard moved his head a bit as he observed the Caravan but ordered the other guards with a hand signal that there was no threat.

"I see. Well, I cant let you pass yet but you can just stay here inside. I have to listen to the bosses order on the decision."

"Thank you" said Vance.

--

Veronica Belmont, Grand Mastress of the Chapter - Saint Catherine Tunnels

Belmont saw a large metal tunnel. It had no tracks and was dark and mysterious. Slaves sat down with Knights watching them as they stayed quiet for the whole time. For they have been conditioned to obey their masters.

"From my understanding, Jury Street was possibly going to connect to another metro line in D.C. The workers were digging from here but when the bombs dropped, they were trapped and died."

Nothing but shards of their skeleton laid. Tiny little pieces all crushed by the rubble that was now clear.

"This is a good discovery. What position do you think this line is sitting atop McAllese" said Ashcroft.

"Hmm, guessing, we are a few miles East of Saint Catherine but I dont think we are even close to D.C."

Belmont looked at the darkness of what laid ahead.

"Be careful McAllese."

"Indeed what the Grandmaster has said. I will send over an additional squad of Knights a two scouts to scour the darkness."

"Dominus vobiscum" said Belmont in Latin.

McAllese nodded. "Quis tu, ut."

Kyle Labhart - Georgetown

Kyle nodded. "Very good. You are the ones I'm expecting. Come, now." He led the two ghouls down the quiet, calm, and peaceful Georgetown street to his own townhouse. The first room in the house was a medium-sized living room with two couches directly facing each other on each side. He motioned for the two men to sit. "Can I get you anything? Milk, water, cuppa' joe, perhaps even some beer?" He smiled with confidence as he asked the question. Through his previous travels, Kyle knew that it was unusual for one to offer beverages to someone in the world of the capital wasteland, and he hoped that the gesture would come as a pleasant surprise to the representatives.

Kyle Labhart - Georgetown

Before either of the ghouls were able to respond to Kyle's gesture, a soldier quickly opened the door to the home and saluted Kyle.

"Honestly...What the [censored] is it with you people barging in without knocking?" groaned Kyle.

"Sorry, sir, but it is something that the council wanted me to notify you of right away." The soldier who had barged in was wearing a rugged, stained set of combat armor with a black wolf-face engraved on the left shoulder pad.

"Well?" Kyle was annoyed at having his diplomacy session interrupted, and it was beginning to become apparent in his tone of voice.

"We've got another visitor. Well...visitors. There's a caravan that approached from the west metro tunnel."

"Good. We're in need of supplies. Let them come in. Feed their brahmin and give them a room in the Maision," said Kyle dismissively.

"Very well. Thank you, sir." The soldier gave his commander a final salute before leaving the townhouse and shutting the door.

((Sorry, I needed to double post to address BOS' post))