Let me know what you guys think I plan for this to be longer covering the most of Alaska's important people.

Chapter 1 The King of Bears

The year is 2205 the crumbling building was once littered with popcorn, cups and trash. It had been years since the Beartooth Theatrepub has been that way. A passing man with tribal markings running down his face walked into the main theater room. At the center a large chair cut from the back half of a highwayman. A man adorned with bones and furs. Drank greedily out of a metal chalice as the colored contents ran down his cheeks. He was a heavyset man with dark brown skin. The clothing he wore had various plating on it. Under the furs that draqed over his shoulders. Mixes of brown and gary. Unknown pelts to most. He was no weak man. NO, he built this kingdom out of blood. As the tribal approached, he spoke with fear in his voice. Not of the man before him no, of something else.”Sire. The runners report that the bloodpack is on the move. Heading our way. Three hundred men they are. All drugged up on cocktails of chems. Running naked screaming at the top of their lungs most are.”

The man slammed down his chalice. The contents spilling over. He fiercely gripped the hilt of his axe. Made of metal scraps. With a thrust of his arm he drew it over his own head.”We meet them in battle, arm the men! Ready the cannons! May the Great Mountain Bear ‘Vltron’ Guide us to Astten Guared.”

The men cheered filling the building with the sounds of roaring mortal men, ready to give their lives. In the name of their King, and God. The army of the Bear King. Morton Bearhorn. As he so called himself. Charged into battle, just off the streets of Benson and Arctic. Metal clashed and gunfire thundered. Filling the air with smoke, as the streets turned red. Cannons sent balls and debris flying into decrepit buildings, sending some tumbling down crushing those beneath. A Young Bear Tribal Yules Thornthrop blasted a Bloodpack psycho at point blank as he came in wielding a power saw. He crawled to his feet, before being impaled by a pointed pipe.The splatter of blood dripped off his armor. While the man gasped for air. With a weak voice it spoke.”Slice the tendons.. Fill our bellies with.. With. Ears….” He fell over the spear removed. Men and women died all around Yules, satisfied in their death. The look on their faces was almost as if the Vulpines had carried them away to Astten Guared. He smiled before charging off again.

Battle cries of unintelligible design flooded the city. As men fought each other one for life, the other for blood. The Bloodpack sought nothing else but to kill and get their chem fix. They are a wild and mindless plague. Hours of later after the slaughter the remaining Tribe. Those that call themselves Clan Bearhorn. They stood over the bodies of their fallen, but more so gazed upon the bodies of their slain enemy. And celebrated joyously. Their King Morton Bearhorn stood over a mountain of men, junk blades and axes stuck out of his body. He turned and yelled.”GLORY IS OURS!!! We burn our dead so they may travel in peace to Astten Guared. Then we Feast!”

They gathered the dead, and burned them. A party was held in the great hall, drinks and food were spread out. As the warriors consumed their shares still covered in blood. They told tales of their victory.”This woman charged me with zeal. She had grenades tapped to her hands as she bolted towards me. I raised my club and swung high. It connected with her torso and sent her airborne. She exploded in midair raining down chunks of flesh. It was brilliant!”

Another Bear Tribal laughed.”So you say Bilyorn but you were not the only one with a tale. I had three Bloodpack tribals closing in on me. There I was cornered only my claws for protection. I ripped the throat of the first one. The second one swung at me with an axe made of junk, I blocked with the back of my claws. It slid off the metal where I clawed his eyes out. Plucked them out I did.” “What about the third Galmun?”
“I’m getting to that Uared. Now the third He was tricky had some kind of chain blade. He whipped it around like I did last night in the brothel! Hahaha. It got me right here in my shoulder just above the bone. Dogging that was difficult. But I closed the distance and knocked him down where I pinned him to the ground. I slashed away at his face. I’m still picking out flesh from my claws.” Cheers and knocking of glasses could be heard throughout the room as similar tales spread of glory and valor. The King himself cheered them on, as his wounds were mended.”To Clan Bearhorn! And to the glory of Vltron. Our God! He won us this battle, this honor.” The Clan Bearhorn was one of many Raider Tribes who called Anchorage their home. But Morton Bearhorn was one of the few with the men and power to hold the title of King.

Coming soon Chapter 2 The Gray Wolf King