The Phoenix Powers.

A small camp on a sand blasted peak rising above the wasteland. A high tech communicator glows neon blue, a beacon, a lure for a trap. A power armoured soldier looks once more at the detainees confined in the shipping container, he then flicks the ignition on his flamethrower. The detainees look up from their purified water as the flamer blasts enflamed fuel through their grave.

A ruined industrial complex, a large warehouse falling apart from the inside out. Train containers lie where they came to a halt long ago. Two men in black armour lay concealed, guarding the area. Deep inside a mercenary commander accepts a large payment and promises the completion of a task.

A makeshift residence burns in the former suburbs of DC. The corpses of a family lay sprawled on the cracked ancient road. A mixed group a grimy men and women wearing improvised armour joke and laugh about their sadistic deeds, before taking any valuables and leaving once more to roam the wastes.

A small town, car bodies, sheets of metal and steep piles of scrap wall in this small haven from the horrors of the wasteland. Inside traders trade with the merchants and adventures brave enough to walk the wastes, people and families live lives of relative comfort. However the protectors of these havens must always remain vigilant for these havens present ripe targets.

The urban ruins of DC, massive buildings and the monuments of those past heroes the people who lived before the war revered. A city with wonders truly suitable for the capital of a powerful nation. Here those who have changed fight those who wish to preserve. The knights and paladins fight the monsters who have taken the urban area as their lair. However the knights intentions are not exactly noble.

A seemingly innocent fissure in the side of a rocky outcrop, dead quiet for 200 years. Metallic squealing disrupts the slight moan of the wind. Before long two security officers emerge shielding their eyes. They motion and another two come out, wearing little more than jump suits with flack jackets they look around amazed with the outside world and unaware of the dangers waiting to befall them.
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Ever thought how awesome having your own faction, maybe your own stronghold and a group of loyal cohorts to command. Maybe making alliances with other groups of raiders and terrorising the land. Maybe a vigilante group who harvests tech for the Brotherhood of Steel. Maybe just starting your own town for your fellow wastelanders to live in.

Rules
PM character sheets to me before posting.
No character/army controlling
No ubering, I will decide what constitutes ubering and what is legit
My word is law
Have fun, after all that is what we are here for.

Character Sheet
Name:
Age:
Race:
Description:
Equipment: Armour, weapons, misc
Bio:
Faction Sheet
Faction Name: No big dominating factions like Enclave or Brotherhood of Steel, I will control them if you wish to interact with them. You can be as creative as you want, within reason of course.
Troop Numbers: I will be watching at this closely, don't go overboard. Around 25 to 50 depending on what else you have.
Troop Equipment: Be reasonable.
Civilian numbers: Depending on your faction you may or may not wish to have civilians, don't go crazy with this one either.
Home Base: This may be moving or stationary or you may not even want one, you can create your own locations in DC if you want as well.
Economy: Just a brief description will do, examples would be trading hub, scavenger based, manufacturing commodities(such as water), reserves based(as in a Vault) etcetera.
Faction Bio: A description of how your faction came to be, what their objectives are and other information you might want to include to give us a better understanding of your faction.

Name: "Ermine" (thats a weasel thats white in the winter)
Age: mid-20s
Race:caucasion
Description: a slender, scrappy, pale man, dirty and scarred, a scar on his face from his mouth, looking like a smirk, dirty, shaggy dark blonde hair
Equipment: a high collar trench coat, a .44 magnum, a single detonation pack
Bio: his parents killed while he was still an infant by the enclave. The brotherhood of steel had taken him in and taughtt him much, but he left, peacefully, at the age of 17. After seing the enclave still operating he swore that every last member of this "government"
was killed. After this he bagan a secret society known as "the winders"
Faction Name: "The Winders"
Troop Numbers: unknown, most likely in the forties or fifties
Civilian numbers: none
Home Base: meating places vary
Economy: winders make their money from stolen enclave supplies sold to traders, as well as live off of them
Faction Bio: this is a rather young faction, only about 10 years at the most. no one knows who is a member or how theyre admitted to join. winders must always provide for eachother, no one knows how a winder is identified, or even when and how it started

im guessong thats all i can do right now...

Bleak Rock: Small Village, 3 miles due West of Rockopolis, Population 34

The town was in chaos a whirring black thing had passed over and landed. Men with dark armour and glowing eyes were coming for them. Christine was scared, they killed daddy when he tried to stop them.

She was hiding in the radio shack, she clumsily turned the radio on and picked up the mouthpiece.

"Hello? This is Christine from Bleak Rock? Um, there's soldiers attacking us? Help us please?" She said into the machine, unsure if it was working correctly.

The door slammed in. Sounds of the scuffle and screaming filled the airwaves, before being cut dead as a Enclave officer flicked off the radio.

Ermine kicked back, listening to a dozen different radio signals, none of them concerning trouble. He heard bleak rock, thats not normal, theyre ussually silent, his head jerked up and dialed the radio's volume higher. "Help us please" it was girl, she sounded scared, there were loud screams and some muffled voices talking. The other two winders looked up, "yo, boss! what the stitch with that chick?" the two young men looked happy, they were such scum, waiting for a young girl in trouble. "It someone from bleak rock, theyre ussually silent, grab your gear, we're checkin this out" Ermine reached for his combat armor chest piece and trench coat. He quicly had his armor and gun covered by his coat and left the "bunker" which was just a cave half a mile east from Rokopolis. It was where Ermine slept and spent most of his time, tracking the Enclave.

By the time they made it to Bleak Rock it was empty. It was covered in burn marks and a few littred bodies, burnt from plasma. "Enclave, you two...eerm whatever your names are, look for survivors and anything to scavenge" Ermine glared at the two men, "dont you dare touch the women in any way displeasing, or I'll have you getting info from the deathclaw caves, you hear?!" The men looked at eachother and back at Ermine, particularly, his scar, "Yea boss".

Ermine entered the radio station, the door ripped off its hinges. he saw the radio was still intact, just off. He came to the microphone and flip the switch, "To all who are constantly winding the clocks of time, keeping vengance near, Bleak Rock.....Bleak Rock, shall never be a home for the still."

A few more winders had shown up, making seven of them. The two men Ermine sent to search returned with a bag of ammunition and supplies, he dropped his findings at Ermines feet and scurried off, "BOSS! WE GOTTA SURVIVOR COME QUICK!" Ermine's face brightened, he sprinted to his two men...

The survivor was a older man maybe in his forties, his wounds weren't bleeding because they were cauterised but they were obviously fatal. He propped himself up nodding wearily to the men helping him.

"You strangers don't look like you're from around here?" The man said, his voice steady but low, concealing his pain.

"The name's Harper." He coughed a little and continued. "They took my little Christine and the others north. The one in charge said there was a detainment camp or something there."

"Tell me every little detail you have Mr. Harper. We'll get youre daughter back. Hey! one of you clean him up!" he looked at the winders who had just arrived, they were all nervously looking around. Ermine's two men came up to Harper, anxiouxly snickering, "how old would this little Christine be sir?" Ermine was getting impatient with those two, "both of you shut the hell up! Either of you two got any family? anything to really live for?" Ermine was taking out his .44. The older one raised his hand, "no boss, I dont, the little guy here has got a little sister though" he pointed at an empty house, "meet me in there, leave your gear here." The older one walked to the house, "now then, you little guy, clean Mr. Harper here up" he got to work.

Ermine walked to the house, spinning his gun in his hand. a minute after he came in, a gunshot was heard and Ermine walked out. Ermine threw a small bag of caps to the littler one, "take his gear too, he wont be needin it"

Ermine woke Harper up, they were in his cave. "Listen Mr. Harper, I'm pretty sure I know who attacked yall, and frankly, I hate them, so I think we both have a common goal here. I won't hurt you, I just want you back with your family, safe and sound in a city. Now then, would you kindly tell me everything about this attack and anything that couldve caused it? dont spare me a detail. I'll be out of here, getting your daughter back for you while youre in regulators' care as soon as I know whats happened"

The wasteland is unforgiving, only the winders of the clock of life may forgive. sometimes cruelty must be instilled on one for the sake of millions

"It happened all very quickly but I'll tell you all I can." Harper said, his voice less strained.

"Well, the day started rather normally, I did my usual chores and everything was good until the? Uh I think it's called a helicopter, it's a pre war machine, flies using blades that whirl very fast. Landed just outside town, I took my rifle and got Johnny. And went out to see what these guys were after." Harper stopped, his eyes a little distant, remembering some details.

"There were at least six or seven of the soldiers, they wore heavy black armour, like I've never seen before. Some had laser rifles, a trader showed me one once, far too damned expensive for someone like me though. One had a flamer, I've seen one of those when I was younger too. The others had weapons I didn't recognise."

"There was another wearing a smart looking uniform, he did all the talking. I can't tell you exactly what he said, but the gist was he wanted us to submit to some 'testing'. Now I wasn't going to have any experimentation done to my daughter or my neighbours. So I made Johnny go get the other men." Harper cleared his throat and continued.

"The clever bastard knew exactly what I was doing and shot me. I almost blacked out then and there, the pain was pretty bad. It was a blur after that, I could hear them getting Christine. I wanted to help her so bad but I just couldn't move." His voice was rough because of his emotion.

"The last thing I remember was them cuffing everyone up, everyone who was left. The clever bastard told the soldiers to take them to the detainment camp up north and he got back into the flying machine."

"Is that enough? Do you need to know anything else, anything to help my daughter."

"Yea, that's them," speaking to two winders now he pointed to s brahmin, "now take him to medical, one of you, assemble some men at Bleak Rock, we're goin hunting," He looked back at Harper, "We'll get your daughter back safe, and anyone else they have a plan on hurting"

Ermine looked around, many new faces, twenty three men total, a good amount, but not every winder. He dragged a crate in front of them all, he stood on it, raising him a good two feet above them all. "Now then listen up! We are assulting maybe the largest Enclave camp, if it is even a camp, that we have ever heard about!" Ermine's crowd cheered, he smirked, "now take up every weapon and piece of armor you have! We plan to free some civilians!" the crowd was acting displeased, "do you not remember who we are? We are the closest things to justice, we wind the clocks of this wasteland, in order to determin its future! we serve justice to those who hunger for it! Every civilian makes up a hand of this clock! we make these clocks continue to move!" the winders cheered. "One last thing, every death by any of your hands will be compensated by your own! Until now the winders have been silent, its time we show the wasteland who the winders are! spread our message!" Ermine looked down at his pocket watch, it was golden, and needed to be wound. He turned it over and read over a message etched into it: wind the cloak of our world, be its protector, its care giver, its life.

my world needs not to show me love, only to accept my love

Character Sheet

Name: Wes Johnson

Age: 102

Race: Caucasian (Ghoul)

Description: Wes, due to being a Ghoul, lacks most of his hair. Some of it is still rooted in around the top, like tuffts of fur. He is a fairly lean fellow as most of his skin and body fat disappeared with his human looks. Standing at around five foot, ten inches, he doesn't seem to strike a lot of fear into people.

Equipment:
.32 Caliber Hunting Rifle, x20 .32 Caliber Rounds,
10mm Pistol, x15 10mm Rounds
Combat Knife
Combat Armour, Brown Wasteland Camoflauge

Bio: Wes' past was traumatic. On his tenth birthday, he saw his whole family killed, yet the Raiders who'd massacared the unarmed traders hadn't had the respect to kill him too. They kidnapped the poor child and kept him for torture and general mockery. That night, the Raider camp was raided (hehe) by the Enclave. The Raiders, and Wes, were taken to a research lab in the D.C. wastes, were the scientists were testing how a high amount of radiation effected the Human body.

Most Raiders died due to the high radiation levels, but for Wes, he wasn't granted death. Instead, he became a Ghoul. The scientists kept him in captivity for years, trying various other tests on him. When Wes was taken to a nearby metro tunnel, accompanied by two Enclave scientists, to see what would happen if he came into contact with Feral Ghouls, he managed to escape. The Feral Ghouls of the subway aided him, rather than attacking him and killed the scientists.

Many, many years past. Wes had a goal in his life, to help all his fellow brethren.

Faction Sheet

Faction Name: Project Ghoul

Troop Numbers: Five (Including Wes)

Troop Equipment: The small platoon all wear matching combat armour, some with helmets, that has been adpated to further blend in with the bleak landscape. Each member has a main weapon, a side-arm and a melee weapon, although each of these vary different making for a varied attack force.

Civilian numbers: Ten, made up of Women and Children. Each possess a small melee weapon, some having access to a weak side-arm.

Home Base: A Vault (non-canon) located south of the VAPL-58 Power Station. Large enough to home well over two hundred people, food supplies to last an extremely long time, same with water. The main problem is the entrance is hard to get to as it is ontop of a large, steep hill which means that if trading has to be done, someone has to venture out and go to the traders. Also, the hill has a Mole Rat infestation, making leaving the Vault even more dangerous. Also contains high levels of radiation due to a broken G.E.C.K, purposefully put in there by Vault-Tec.

Economy: Reserves based, although some trade does come through to the Vault every month or so.

Faction Bio: Once Wes had left the Enclave, he remembered seeing many of his other Ghoul 'family' being tortured and tested. So from that day, he began "Project Ghoul", an attempt to see if Ghouls could survive in the Wastelands easily. He tried to get Ghouls to join his cause, but most of them were too afraid to leave the 'safety' of their hiding places.

After a few years, he has now amassed a group of fourteen Ghouls (not including himself) and they've taken control of a irradiated Vault. The short-term goal is to return to the Enclave research lab and release the fellow Ghouls there. The long-term goal is to destroy all animosity against the Ghouls and decrease the amount of abused, shelterless Ghouls.

Name: Pfc. Dox Ross

Age: 22

Race: White

M.O.S. (job): Sapper (combat engineer)

Description: Brown short hair/eyes, cleft chin, broad shouldered, only slightly skinny for an infantry grunt. Weight 170 Height 5'10

Equipment: Standard issue kevlar vest, combat knife, retractable baton, pixilated camo pants, loads of C4

Weapons: AR-15, twin Ruger SR9 pistols (Model KODB)

Bio: Brought up in a settlement far north from the blast radius of anything important, nobody would waste a nuke on getting rid of the sticks. When he was 20 he enlisted into the Army at least what was left of it, and served oversea's around the time he turned 21. Now his attention has been turned to the mutant threat across the midwest, but first, and primarily, they have to get the f**k out of his great nations capitol. So once his term was up with the Army, he headed down to Virginia, more specifically the ghetto's of DC. He dosent trust gouls, he will work with them, but dosent enjoy there presence.

Personality: Charismatic, Aggressive, and Humorous even in tough cituations

Skills: Small guns, Explosives, Speech, Big guns, Barter, Sneak, Melee Weapons, Unarmed

Faction Sheet

Faction Name: Echo Company

Faction Numbers: 27 including Dox

Civilian numbers: 16 all rescued from ghoul/mutant attacks, with side arms scattered amoungst them.

Current Standing: Radioing for help and Evac

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Dox preped the explosives, as armed Ghouls blasted away at his companys position. Sargent Blackwater boomed into the radio for the umpteenth time today "This is Echo Charlie 1 over, need immediate evac from any personel in the DC area over." Dox looked at the radio, shook his head turned a dial on the radio, and went back to his C4. "Wrong frequency sir, your on military wave lengths. We need to reach the Factions, there our best bet for getting the hell out of here." He than turned up the Johnny Cash music, something about 1950's Johnny Cash and Ray Charles just fit with explosives setting explosives.
Though this long abandoned appartment in the projects had been secured with barbed wire fencing, and heaps of car doors and reinforced steel covering the exits. Somehow the ghouls got a hold of energ weapons, and where blasting there way in. Sniper fire from the roof was picking them off, but the numbers where too much. They needed air transport Asap, or Echo Company, and it's civilian counterparts.

Wes made his along the winding and narrow path, which lead down the hill from the Vault into the open Wasteland, followed by three of his fellow Ghouls. Two of them were trained in combat, whilst the third was simply coming with them to haggle and also to carry equipment. At the bottom, the small group continued southwards, trekking along the various hills unscathed.

Wes readied his Hunting Rifle and signalled the group to stand still and get as low as possible, an order which they hastely agreed to. The Ghoul's senses hadn't failed him. Over the hill he spied a group of five Raiders whom were armed to the teeth. He also noticed that they'd taken prisoners, two young women, in their early teens. Wes was now stuck between two options; the first was to wait for the group to pass, reassuring the safety of his group, but also dooming the two girls whilst the second put his party in danger by attacking the Raiders, but it also saved the girls. "Screw it." He grunted, raising his rifle and waving his hand to bring forward his other two companions.

Crack! The first shot was fired. It erupted from Wes' rifle and ripped its way through the torso of a Raider, causing him to fall down onto the floor. Wes wasn't sure if he was dead or just in immense pain, but he didn't worry about it, instead he skillfully re-bolted his rifle and took another shot which sadly missed a Raider by a centimetre. His two allies hadn't delayed either, both their shots hitting a female Raider, the first hitting her in the leg and the second tunnelled through the back of her head.

The Raider's pinpointed the location of the Ghouls quickly and proceeded to hail a spray of bullets onto their position. The stream of fire managed to catch the hand of a Ghoul, causing him to drop his rifle down the hill and howl out in pain. Wes looked down the sight of the gun, aiming it against the head of the submachine-gun wielding maniac, before squeezing the trigger and watching his head explode. "Three down...Two to g--" Wes stopped, only being able to see a single Raider. "Crap. Where's he gone?" Once again, he ducked down out of the way as shots from a .32 caliber pistol pounded against the natural bunker he was hidden behind.

Suddenly, the other Ghoul stood up, unleashing a hail of automatic gun fire from his Chinese Assault Rifle down onto the target with many a bullet impacting on the Raider's limbs and torso. The figure fell to the floor, leaving the two girls lieing their, tied up. "Hell yes! We did it boss!" The Ghoul jumped up and down in joy, only to recieve a massive blow to the head from a sledgehammer...The final Raider had shown himself. Sadly, the huge figure had already crushed the other injured Ghoul's throat with his massive, metal coated foot.

Smash! The sledgehammer impacted on the floor as Wes rolled away just in time. He fumbled with his Hunting Rifle, aiming it at the figure. His finger on the trigger he pulled. Click, click, click. He was out of ammo. "Argh, not now!" The sledgehammer swung down again, smashing against the frail rifle, smashing it in two. Luckily, it had brought Wes enough time to move out of the way and stand up. "Come on! Hit me!" He taunted, ducking a violent and poorly aimed swing of the sledgehammer. He quickly reached to his leg holster only to realise his pistol had fallen out and was on the floor.

Crunch! Whilst Wes had been looking for his pistol, he hadn't noticed the swing of the Sledgehammer aimed at his legs. The large concrete block cracked into his shins, splintering and cracking them, also sending him into the floor a few feet back. He upper-body was hanging over the edge of the rocky outcrop. The Raider approached, preparing for an over-head swing into the Ghoul's stomach...Until something caught his attention. The unarmed Ghoul who'd been travelling with Wes had removed a frying pan from his satchel and smashed it across the back of the Raider's head.

He certainly got his attention, the huge, hulking figure turned to face the trader, angry on his face. He dropped the Sledgehammer and with one, massive hand, grasped the man's throat and lifted him into the air. The man in question flailed his legs and arms, repeatidly striking the Raider over and over to little effect, until his body went limp due to a lack of air. The man tossed the lifeless corpse aside, turning his attention to Wes.

Although...The view was very different. This time, Wes had his pistol. "Sweet dreams, [censored]." He croaked, unloading the clip of twelve bullets into the Raider's skull, enough to bring him down to the floor, dead. The Ghoul stood up, his shins and legs were screwed, but he could still limp. Reloading the pistol, he made his way back to the Vault, dragging the body of his trader. "Another...Failed trip." He thought. Sadly, all the trading trips he attempted to organised ended up like this.

With a final glance, he looked back over the hill, clutching his gut, trying to ignore the pain in his legs. He saw the cause for all this, the two girls. Unfortunately, they hadn't survived either. The struggle had lasted for too long, and had attracted attention. He saw another group of men walking up to the duo and dragging them away. "...Slaver scum."

After his third block of C4 was complete with a timer, Dox stuffed it all in a satchel, and headed to the roof. About 9 men where shooting at the mob below, but on top of a 26 story building, however there shots where thrown off with the gravity of there lattitude. Dox walked over to his war buddy Corpral Gagne, took a swig of his whiskey, made that face, and lit up a smoke. "How's it going?" He inquired. The pissed off Gagne just shook his head "Man f*** this, I wanted to be an MP! I could be getting some *vertical smile* in a vault bar, instead im in this [censored]hole!" Dox just shrugged "Least were not them." Pointing down to the Ghouls below. "How much *verticle smile* do you think there getting?" Gagne just fired off a few more bursts, "Whatever man, btw why are you standing here with your thumb up your ***? Set off that C4, or give it to me." Dox flicked his ciggarette off the building, "Hay freaks, heres a smoke on me!" he shouted. Turning back to Gagne "You think i'd trust you with heavy explosives? You'd probably blow your own d*** off."

Walking over to the east side ledge of the building, Dox began whistling his favorite battle song, and 1964 hit "King of the road." Everyone groaned, "WHY DONT YOU EVER SING A DIFFERENT SONG???" Pvt. Pelletier hollared from the south ledge. Dox just smiled and continued singing, as he withdrew his first C4 block. "Ive been, two hours of pushin broom." he set the timer to 9 seconds. "buys a 8 by 12 four bed room" he dropped the C4 "Im a MAAAAN of means, by no means" he took a moment to see it drop to the ground below, and see all the surrounding ghouls just look down at it, shortly after exploding sending body parts everywhere. "King of the roooooad!"

Finishing his song, and all C4 blocks out of his satchel, Dox withdrew his AR-15, picked a few Ghouls off and went inside for a couple beers. That was the benefit of having specialised training in explosives in an Infantry unit. You where un expendable, and had the luxery to be lazy when you wanted to be. Soon after his second brewsky he checked in the radio room where the pogue radio opperators had come into contact with a faction that where set to land on the Helipad in 1700. They where to head to a mountain town off in Bum F*** nowhere, away from the major action, this was NOT going to go over well with many of the guys. Dox headed back to the roof to fill in the guys.

The winders walked near a large cluster of rocks. A vertibird flew over their heads, Ermine and his men hit the ground as fast as possible. "Sh*t get down! That vertibird is way to low to be going anywhere far, we're close, real close. keep an eye out for patrols. You over there with that infared visor thing! go scout the northern area out!" the man looked at Ermin, nervously. "Did I stutter? move it? report back in fifteen! i got word that we got more men comin to us" Ermine got down, under a natural canopy of rocks, an armored truck drove up, coming from the south, making more than enough noise...

Character Sheet
Name: Vasili Mihailov
Age: 41
Race: Russian
Description: Scruffy, Heavy Accent, Rough, Fit.
Equipment: Chinese Jumpsuit, Combat Shotgun, Combat Knife.
Bio: Grew up on a Brahmin Farm in the state of New York, Migrated to D.C. After the death of his family. with his Charisma he gradually gained a small following, which continuously grew into what it is today.

Faction Sheet
Faction Name: Peoples Uprising
Troop Numbers: 43
Troop Equipment: Extremely Varied, Whatever the group can scavenge, Dark red cloth tied onto some piece of clothing/body part etc.
Civilian numbers: 70
Home Base: The Mountains ( Surrounding Oasis etc)
Economy: Water Plant, Brahmin Farming, Scavenging Parties, Sometimes go out to trade.
Faction Bio: Groups of people outcasted from settlements or just alone in the middle of nowhere, all without direction. They viewed Vasili as a leader, and gradually more and more decided to follow him..

The truck unloaded civilians and 26 less than enthusiastic Echo Company soldiers. As they stepped out into the wasteland, a few went off to greive, Pvt Pelletier didnt make the ride to the middle of nowhere. Dox stumbled off the flatbed drunk as hell, his arm slung around a friend of his for support, to be honest it looked like he couldnt walk without him. They passed a member of the winders, who was talking to Sargent Blackwood. "HEY [censored]!!!" Dox slurred. Ermine looked confused "....What?" Poking his finger into Emines chest, Dox sputtered out "He never liked my F**kin singin!" He pushed away his buddy, than contiued to walk on his own, swaggering from one side to the other. Ten seconds later Ermine heard the Pfc yell out again "HE NEVER LIKED MY F**KIN SINGIN!"

Blackwater shook his head, "Thats one of our more... outgoing soldiers, dont judge him on this alone, we all where close to a man we lost during the Evac. Thing is we did'nt get airsupport before you moved in, and some of the men hold your faction responcible."

OOC: W00tz you should have PMed that to me first but that's okay so it is approved.

Unnamed Vault, South of VAPL-58 Power Station.

Three figures approached the steep hill, two were leather clad human mercenaries toting assault rifles. The third was a much more foreign sight to the wasteland. In a smartly pressed suit with matching bowler hat and gloves, looking more like from a pre war photo than reality. The well groomed ghoul made his way up the hill towards the entrance using a glossy black gentleman's cane to assist his ascent.

"We're barely a faction. In fact you're some of the first to know that we even exist in any organized way." he looked at Dox, "Its okay soldier, I assure you no one will die." A winder tossed Ermine a lazer rifle tied to a small bag of microfusion cells, "Blackwater, we are not responsible for what happened to yall in any way, we had word there was a small army on top of an apartment, surrounded by ghouls, so we called Carl there in the truck to get yall out, we need as many men as possible. I'll explain all of this to you, the Enclave has attacked the small town you probably saw south of here, they took the civillians to the base up here, no one kills any of the civillians, NEVER. Now theres a man who is dying after he was shot in the attack, he's got a daughter in there, names Christine, she's probably about seventeen. I'll see to gettin her to her dad before he dies, no man should die without his family." Ermine began to walk off, "and one more thing, we've already got a scout looking over the place, he'll be back in about oh three minutes, so be ready, we attack as soon as we know what's up."

Blackwater nodded, "I didnt expect as much as airsupport from a faction believe me, but the men. Were used to working with some highrolling killers, airsupport to these guys is like putting butter on bread to most folks. As far as the little girl goes... well after years of fighting it's hard to feel sorry for anyone anymore. But one thing, dont promise me noone will die, because this is war son, and that is a promise no man can keep, No one! But I'll see my men are ready to move out soon as possible."

The drunk Dox stubled around the camp, "DUDE! Where can I get some *verticle smile* around here! Jesus christ! Matter a fact.... wheres the bar... Pelletier was always talkin about startin a bar... I wanted to be a F**kin entertainer!!!..... HAHA that reminds me me of somethin!" He chased down a rat he saw and shot it with one of his SR9's. People looked at him like he was crazy, he began to shout, "ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED??? IS THIS NOT WHY YOU ARE HERE?" Those who got it cracked up, those who grew up too poor for watching old movies didnt. Either way it was apparent to everyone in this camp, he was not the "play quietly" type.

OOC: Just to give you a heads up of what you're facing.

Enclave Genetic Non-compliance Detainment Camp, North of Bleak Rock

Three steel grey verti-bird containers held the detainees, as was to be expected the mix of villagers and wastelanders had all universally failed the tests and were to be disposed shortly. Two tents sat off to the east side of the camp, portable cover was set up at all four corners. Two soldiers with plasma rifles guarded the tents and a officer pvssyd with a scientist just outside. Communications arrays bristled from the roof of the tent signifying the purpose of the tents.

Crates of equipment were set up as a makeshift barricade on the west side of the detainment containers and five soldiers behind sat playing cards. Another two soldiers one with a flamer and one with a laser rifle watched the detainees. While a further four soldiers were patrolling and watching the perimeter.

Dox sat down with a couple of his drinkin buddies, mixed in with a few Winders, they where arguing about the use airsupport. Soon the topic changed to how the Evac went down. Gagne started "Well we hear were getting outta the [censored]hole we've been staying at for the past 7 months, and moving us and all our civilian cargo to an even more desolate [censored]hole, except in this [censored] hole, theres no action going down. So we stand on the roof ready for a chooper to show up, and than our sargent tells us to get to the bottum floor. Were like "Sir theres ghouls all over the place down there." but we head down there civilians and all. Blast our way out of our own base of opperations. When we get outside to the least swarmed area, we see two piece of [censored] flatbed's with four guys with a deathwish blasting the ghouls away. So were like "[censored] this" but we jump on board to one, and the civilians on another. Than we take off, which was [censored] because the girl I've been banging." Dox interupted "NAH NAH my man. WE'VE been banging!" People crack up. "[censored] you private! Anyway she's on that truck, and there taking off to god knows where, anyway Pelletier was covering the rear, he comes charging out of the building. THan we hear the crack, and it's his head, those [censored]in zombie ghoul mutant [censored]s chucked a rock at him. So they start ripping him appart, and the driver wont wait for us to get them off, and we leave him behind." there was silence for a few seconds, until an Echo Company sargent swung by and told them they where "Oscar Mike" (on the move)

Ermine laughed at first, it was funny but they needed to be quiet. Ermine tackled Dox to the ground, took his .44 out and aimed it at Dox's head, "shut up and be quiet before i put a bullet through your head. Carl, hide your truck, we don't want to be seen" Ermine pointed at some large mica and dead shrubbery. The scout returned, he was deffinently rushed and had pictures and much information to share, "Boss, theyre in some tents and crap, east of the main base, I think we should attack that area first." Ermine looked aconcerned, "how many troops were there at the tents?" The winder showed Ermine some pictures he had taken, "not too many boss, as many people as us can take them, theyre all relaxed and playing games too, a few have some weird green lazer things, the others have lazer rifles and one flamer, if you look the flamer and the officer should be shot at long rang, or we should sneak behind them, then assult the main base" Ermine looked over his pictures, scanning each one, imprinting them in his brain. "Alright! listen up! I need the men with the best shots! I'm taking ten of you. Dox, your'e comin along, hope you can take out these rats, after all, they are bigger." a few winders and members from echo approached, he counted, he had nine men, including Dox.

Vertibirds, the scout didnt see them, there werethree, but still not much Enclave. When the men were all close enough to the tents they took aim, they were laying down in a line, each lining up a different target. "Alright, get ready, aim for their heads. Now three, two.....one"





oops, well, part of this happened before, then after dynates post i guess
mica is a paper thin rock, relatively weightless and cane be very large

Vasili sat in the dark, damp room, fiddling with the radio.
As usual, every frequency was silent except for GNR Radio. Tuning back into the same frequency the group they had sent out was on, Vasili sat back and waited.
Suddenly out of the static a boy's voice came through, " Young sheep to Shephard, *giggling* " Then a much rougher voice came in, " Timmy, stop fooling around. Vasili, we're just coming up the path now, come out and see what we've got."

Standing up and walking up the stairs, he pushed open the cold, grey metal door, and stepped into the sunlight.
The leader of Peoples Uprising stood on the hill where the Radio Building was located, looking down on a Brahmin Field and the Water Pumping Station, with the houses, training facilities, and the Barracks in the center of the settlement.

After making his way to the gate, Vasili motioned to 2 men to open the gate and come out to meet the group with him.
There were 6 men and one boy in the group, the boy, Timmy, and the second in command, Falcar.
Vasili welcomed the group in his heavy russian accent, " HEY, come in, come in. Falcar, what did you manage to get? "
" Scavenged some scrap metal for the water plant, got some weapons and armor for repairs, and," Falcar reached into the Brahmin-towed cart with them, " We managed to find a Scoped .44 Magnum. Here, you take it. "
Just as he finished strapping it to his side, a civilian ran up. " Sir, we've got a radio contact. "
They all ran up to the radio transmitter and Vasili spoke into the mic, " Confirm radio contact, confirm radio contact. " This came through just as the winders were about to attack the Enclave encampment.

Enclave Genetic Non-compliance Detainment Camp, North of Bleak Rock

Five soldiers and the officer went down instantly, the other four soldiers survived due to their heavy helmets deflecting the bullets. Confusion reigned through the camp only for seconds, until the soldiers realized they were under attack and training kicked in.

Three soldiers headed out of the camp to the west making a wheeling around flanking movement towards the attackers. Another three took cover by the portable cover by the tents and returned fire sending searing rounds of plasma towards the attackers. The remaining two were waiting behind the verti-bird containers.

The scientist was nowhere to be seen probably in the communication tent.

Vasili speaks into the mic once again, " This is Vasili Mihailov, Leader of Peoples Uprising, confirm radio contact. "

Dox at first was pissed being tackled to the ground, PTS wouldnt allow him to be anyones [censored] than he heard "a few have some weird green lazer things, the others have lazer rifles and one flamer" It took a second to register what the soldier just said "HAHAHAHA a flamer? Well why dont you walk on over to him and give him a bl** job? Jesus christ what kind of [censored] unit is this? You cant name guns, and your men are checking out the local Homo's instead of scaling the perimeter. Tell you what chief why don't you blow my [censored]in head off? Before your incompitent soldiers get us ALL killed."
Dox shoved him off and quik drew his own two pistols. "OHHH damn whats up now! Tell you the truth I dont give a [censored] about the Enclave! At least they train there men to know rifle names! Untill you can grasp your factions incompitence. I dont see my self blowing up [censored] for you, goodluck finding a better Sapper than me." He than walked to the truck leaned up against it and lit up a cigarrette.

OOC: Nolan congradulations that was your 69th post!