Captain James William- Mother cultist fight part 3

"Atom is a false god!" One of the cultists shouted back, "The Mother preserves this island and its people!"

Mother? Who the fuck is the mother?

Having killed the meat hook welding cultist and the Gecko creature dying of its wounds next to Connie there was two atom or Mother it would seem cultist with Castner zapping one with his laser rifle the final cultist screamed and charged out in reckless abandon, hoping to kill as many of the group before getting gunned down.

Unfortunately for the Whacko his suicide attack would not last long with James putting a plasma bolt into them as well. The cultist let out a screech of pain as a large chunk of their body began to liquefy from the heat of the bolt. And they collapsed to the ground dead.

A blissful silence descended on them as the green glow of plasma faded. “I think that’s all of them” James muttered as he began the awkward process of reloading his plasma defender with one hand.

Suddenly, two more armed cultists burst from the undergrowth. James rushed to reload his pistol as he was now defendless as the two cultists rushed towards them but just before they could attack a crackling volley of rifle shots took them down.

Longfellow, the railroad agent rose and a few others came out of the woods, guns still smoking.

"Not as spry as I used to be, but hell if I still got it...." Longfellow muttered with a grin and judging by the smell still half drunk.

“Thanks...” James replied as he finished reloading his pistol “when we get back to town I’m buying you whatever drink you want.”

James then went to pick up his rifle as he did he walked passed Connie and noticed the cult priestess she had ditched the fire to grieve over had been the town (Ex)-Mayor he’d shot at earlier and that she’d been an synth...
Troubling... Do the cultists process the ability to make synths? Or was she replaced beforehand? And by who?

“Co## ## #ver”

James looked around he could not see where the voice was coming from; someone must be attempting to contact him though the chip or he was going crazy in the fog.....

“Thi## is Doctor ##O #ct### D###### from the ####### do you ## me ############# ############# ############# ######### ########”

The voice then stopped, either the fog or distant from where they were calling from prevented James from getting a clear signal... assuming again he simply wasn’t losing it in the fog or blood lost from his arm wound.

"NO!" Rose shouted loudly and knocking James back into reality

It was the railroad agent rose, rushing around the dead cultist bodies she was ripping of their mask and looking at their faces, it would appear she knew them and was seemlying confirmed she dropped to the floor "T-t-they're"

She stammerd, "..They’re...Synths."

The cultists can’t have the tech to make synths.... can they?

Brotherhood hesitantly walked up to the sobbing Rose, and put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss”, he said uncertainly. He decided to risk a question. “What were these synths to you? Why would they all join the cult?”

“And not just the cult, an off shoot faction group.” James replied before turning to Longfellow “During the fight that one there.” James said as he pointed to the cultist he’d partly melted with the plasma bolt “declared that Atom is a false god and that someone or something called the Mother preserves this island and its people”

“Any idea what or who they might be?”

Rose/Longfellow

“I’m sorry for your loss”, Castner said uncertainly. He decided to risk a question. “What were these synths to you? Why would they all join the cult”.

Rose looked up at the man with watery eyes, and she eyed him with stern suspicion,

"You're the Brotherhood soldier aren't you?" She asked peevishly, "What would it matter to you that these Synths died? Just a few less abominations to wipe out in the world right?"

She turned back to looked at the dead cultist lying before her,

"But if you really want to know what they mean to me...family I suppose, in an odd way. I don't know any of them by name, but I recognize their faces somehow. As if I've seen them before. All Synths come from the same source, the same...home...if you can call it that. Maybe...maybe before the Institute's security measures wiped my memory...maybe I knew them somehow, and now I only have the faintest hint of recognition."

Rose then stood up, wiped her eyes and sighed,

"It doesn't matter now I guess. They were trying to kill you, and I suppose you did what you had to do. Look I don't know why there would be Synths among the cultists, but something tells me there's a lot more to these people than we realize...."

----

“And not just the cult, an off shoot faction group.” James replied before turning to Longfellow “During the fight that one there.” James said as he pointed to the cultist he’d partly melted with the plasma bolt “declared that Atom is a false god and that someone or something called the Mother preserves this island and its people”

“Any idea what or who they might be?”

"Well now..." Longfellow said as he thoughtfully scratched his chin, "The only thing I can think of is that crazy spirit those Children of Atom fruitcakes used to go on about. Their missionaries would always go on and on about the 'Mother of The Fog'. Not sure if this 'Mother' is the same one, but I guess it could be. The cultists don't look like the children at all though. For one thing...they've got full heads of hair..."

CORRINE DOOLAK - wreckage site -- 10PM?

Steve had woken up suddenly, babbling about why they had to die, or...or, something. Corrine was so surprised by his sudden revival that she was hardly paying attention, especially since Castner had materialized at some point to start giving Steve some first aid. Her head felt cloudy from the roller coaster of emotions she'd experienced in the very short amount of time. She laced her fingers into Steve's and watched quietly as Castner muttered shallow comforts. The woman, Rose, from before, had appeared and she, too, had begun to sob over the other dead bodies.

Corrine surfaced from her daze just in time to hear Castner speak to her. "I'll see what she's talking about."

She nodded wordlessly in response, taking it upon herself to hold the bandages against Steve. James, who, despite being quite wounded, was using his aggravating haughty mainlander tone to question Longfellow about the cultists.

"Well now..." Longfellow began, "The only thing I can think of is that crazy spirit those Children of Atom fruitcakes used to go on about. Their missionaries would always go on and on about the 'Mother of The Fog'. Not sure if this 'Mother' is the same one, but I guess it could be. The cultists don't look like the children at all though. For one thing...they've got full heads of hair..."

Corrine wiped her nose on the back of her sleeve in an attempt to regain some composure. She swallowed and finally spoke, her voice initially coming out as a gargle. "Suh-smooth skin, too. Many long-time cultists don't tend ta look so...well...fresh." She glanced around at the other islanders who had turned to face her while she spoke. "Well, it's true, ain't it?" Corrine shrugged. "Not like I know what it means. Maybe they just haven't been goons long enough ta have lost their hair an' their skin."

She crouched back down to take Steve's hand in both of hers, once more. "Can we just finish up, here, an' get back to down? Steve and James both need to see the doc. Nothin' about those cultists is gonna change in the time it takes us to get back to town."

Corrine looked into Steve's face and squeezed his hand. "You just hang in there, all right? We're gonna get you back to town, to a warm bed, and some medicine." As an afterthought, her gaze shot up to meet Longfellow's eyes. "Don't you forget about Avery, neither."

Vertibird Crash Site

“You’re gonna be ok", a man's voice echoed as if from the bottom of a well, "You’ll make it, buddy”.

Steve felt something prick him in the arm and chest, each time a pleasing warmth began to flood through him. Finally fully conscious again, he looked around, seeing Corrine to one side of him, and Castner, pocketing a empty stimpack, on the other.

"You OK, Corrine?", Steve said weakly, as he tried, and failed to sit up. "I don't feel so good."

Somewhere behind him, a woman cried out in despair.

"NOO!" She screamed again, "T-t-they're" She sobbed, "..they're...Synths."

Castner looked over at Corrine.

"I'll see what she's talking about", Castner said, and got up and left.

Corrine nodded and held the bandages against his wounded arm.

"Well now..." Longfellow began, "The only thing I can think of is that crazy spirit those Children of Atom fruitcakes used to go on about. Their missionaries would always go on and on about the 'Mother of The Fog'. Not sure if this 'Mother' is the same one, but I guess it could be. The cultists don't look like the children at all though. For one thing...they've got full heads of hair..."

Corrine wiped her nose on the back of her sleeve in an attempt to regain some composure. She swallowed and finally spoke, her voice initially coming out as a gargle. "Suh-smooth skin, too. Many long-time cultists don't tend ta look so...well...fresh." She glanced around at the other islanders who had turned to face her while she spoke. "Well, it's true, ain't it?" Corrine shrugged. "Not like I know what it means. Maybe they just haven't been goons long enough ta have lost their hair an' their skin."

She crouched back down to take Steve's hand in both of hers, once more. "Can we just finish up, here, an' get back to down? Steve and James both need to see the doc. Nothin' about those cultists is gonna change in the time it takes us to get back to town."

Corrine looked into Steve's face and squeezed his hand. "You just hang in there, all right? We're gonna get you back to town, to a warm bed, and some medicine." As an afterthought, her gaze shot up to meet Longfellow's eyes. "Don't you forget about Avery, neither."

"Avery", Steve said slowly, "That explains it....I'm so sorry, Corrine." He squeezed Corrine's hand gently.

Finally feeling strong enough...thanks to the Stimpacks, he sat up, and with the rock he had tried to use for cover as support, with Corrine's help was able to get on his feet. Thankfully, the townspeople had come to their aid....Corrine seemed to be the only one of them that wasn't seriously hurt. Looking into the clearing near the Vertibird, he saw what he expected to find....the still form of Avery, and snuggled up to her, the creature, with a blood trail leading straight back here. The vision he had seen while unconscious was uncannily accurate....something Steve found highly unnerving.

"Corrine, if we're taking her back to bury her...", Steve said, nodding at Avery, "We oughta take the critter, too and bury them together....it's what both of them would have wanted."

James Gregor Castner

Rose looked up at him with watery eyes, and she eyed him with stern suspicion,

"You're the Brotherhood soldier aren't you?" She asked peevishly, "What would it matter to you that these Synths died? Just a few less abominations to wipe out in the world right?"

He didn’t know what to say. She turned back to looked at the dead cultist lying before her,

"But if you really want to know what they mean to me...family I suppose, in an odd way. I don't know any of them by name, but I recognize their faces somehow. As if I've seen them before. All Synths come from the same source, the same...home...if you can call it that. Maybe...maybe before the Institute's security measures wiped my memory...maybe I knew them somehow, and now I only have the faintest hint of recognition."

It was a kind of shared family. Not unlike when soldiers could recognize other soldiers, no matter the conflict they were a part of. All synths recognizing each other to some extent could help them survive, but it also could be a boon to anyone of their enemies. Again he didn’t say anything.

Rose then stood up, wiped her eyes and sighed,

"It doesn't matter now I guess. They were trying to kill you, and I suppose you did what you had to do. Look I don't know why there would be Synths among the cultists, but something tells me there's a lot more to these people than we realize...."

“I’m sorry about your family.”, he said a little abruptly. “I feel the same way about those men over there”, he pointed at the dead knights “I didn’t really know them, but we were both a part of a bigger family I used to have connections with”. He paused for a few moments. “Look”, he said with more certainty “I’m not really with Maxson anymore. I was sent on this mission to disappear from his ideal Brotherhood and I doubt I’ll ever head back.” He looked over to Avery’s crushed synth parts that peeked out of her ruined head and had an idea. “The synths have a computerized part in their brain right? Maybe the Cult somehow hacked them and forced them to do this? Or maybe their control over animals extends to humans…”

After his conversation with Rose was done, James decided to take full scope of the devastation and walk amongst the wreckage and bodies. Three dead Knights out of power armor. He carefully lifted the strange white rags the cultists placed on them, grimacing as the cultists handiwork was revealed. It was immediately apparent that Knight Jackson hadn't survived the crash. He would say it was poetic justice for being an asshole, but nobody deserves being nearly crushed in half by a hunk of steel. The other two were shot full of grimy radioactive rounds from the cultists. He grabbed their holotags and gingerly reapplied the white rags. All he felt for them was a hollow sadness for fellow soldiers. He would prefer to bury or burn them, but he was aware that probably wasn't an option. The vertibird equipment came first.

James then surveyed the wreckage. The Vertibird had a nasty crash on it’s side with scorched earth and pieces of it all around. The whole structure was propped up at an angle by the gnarled right wing, whose ravaged rotor was weighing it down on that side. The left wing was yards behind the craft. The massive hole through both sides of the bird gaped menacingly, but it also provided an easier entrance point than the cargo door in the back.

The cultists had already pulled out all of the hardened steel crates out of the wreckage and left them scattered around. They had even managed to pick a few of the locks, though they didn’t have the time to make off with any of the loot. He remembered the manifest and he still had a key that could open all the crates. All that was needed was to carry it back. Twelve crates in total carrying a few spare AER9s and R91s, fusion cells and bullets, fusion cores, military rations, medicine, water straight from the D.C. purifier, and radio equipment. All emergency backups and surplus, but still useful in the current situation.

James pulled himself up into the vertibird through the hole, wincing at the pain in his leg and chest. He would have to go to the doc again back in town. Stopping to catch his breath, he looked around the tiny wrecked interior of the vertibird. It felt like it had been a week since he fell out of this bird, not a single day. In that time, he had joined a mission not unlike those he completed with Lyon’s Pride. Originally, Knight Brendan had planned to acquire lodging with the locals, while they found out what they could. If they had successfully landed, would he still have been able to help out like he was now? He doubted it.

The left door minigun was still securely in it’s dock, while the right was hopelessly twisted from the forces of the crash. With some help, he could securely detach the left and re-dock it somewhere else. No need to use power armor to rip it off. And yes, the four power armor suits were still securely docked in the back with fusion cores. None of the suits had fallen and still stood stoically, though at the same angle as the vertibird. He squeezed between them and opened the cargo door. It was bent at the right edge, but it creaked down all the same.

Through the door, he could see Steve was awake. He rushed over to find they were talking about burying Avery… and the little mutated monster with her. He looked at Steve strangely, unsure what the badly wounded man was talking. Maybe it was the shock talking? Once he was done he spoke: “We’re in the money with the supplies and power armor, guys. And there’s one minigun still operational. We just need to get it back to town”, he looked at the jagged bits of hull scattered around “Maybe we could make some kind of sleigh to put the crates on?”

Captain James William- Planning

"Suh-smooth skin, too. Many long-time cultists don't tend ta look so...well...fresh." She glanced around at the other islanders who had turned to face her while she spoke. "Well, it's true, ain't it?" Corrine shrugged. "Not like I know what it means. Maybe they just haven't been goons long enough ta have lost their hair an' their skin."

"Some people are born naturally more resistance to radiation, Zombie "technically" have high advanced radiation resistance as well although if Rose is correct and they are synths then it wouldn't surprise me if the instuite made them resistance or even immune to radiation....No point building synths to do your bidding on the surface If an little fallout can beat them. "

Could be Drugs although there's no way they got that high quality meds out here.

Connie crouched back down to take Steve's hand in both of hers, once more. "Can we just finish up, here, an' get back to down? Steve and James both need to see the doc. Nothin' about those cultists is gonna change in the time it takes us to get back to town."

"Actually.... Once we have done looting the vetibird we should booby-trap the bodies, hopefully it will "slow down" anyone following us." James chuckled at the though of atom cultist getting blow up.

Boom

James then turned around to see Brotherhood opening up the Vetibird cargo and make his way back over to the group "We’re in the money with the supplies and power armour, guys. And there’s one minigun still operational. We just need to get it back to town”, he looked at the jagged bits of hull scattered around “Maybe we could make some kind of sleigh to put the crates on?”

we hit the jackpot... almost worth semi-losing my arm... Almost.

"Well maybe we can use the vetibird doors as "plates" to hold items and have the people in the power armour carry back them to town? how many suits are there?" James asked

(someone Reponses with four)

"Four suits? well then have one take the minigun and be point man, two people carry the loot on the door "plates" and then the final suit user carries Steve and any of the... deceased we are bringing back."

"With the exception of Brotherhood I probably have the most experience with Power armour but even with the armour my arm's pretty much fucked but I can lock the suit's arm in position and carry Steve. No offense but if we run into trouble I know how to move and fight one handed in the suit without dropping him.

Not that will need to move much with the minigun on our side.

Longfellow - Vertibird Crash

“Maybe we could make some kind of sleigh to put the crates on?”

"Aye, seems like a good plan," Longfellow nodded, "The townsfolk can start stripping the bird and make some kind of sled from the parts. Ain't got to go far...just far enough to get us back to town. Don't know what to do 'bout the power armor, but I'll leave that to you two," He said, pointing to the two James', "Lets get this done and get this done quick. I don't want to be out here any longer than we have to. Them cultists might be back any moment now."

As the townsfolk went to work, Longfellow walked back over to the body of Avery and knelt down while holding his rifle by the barrel and propping it stock-first in the ground,

"What the hell got into you Avery?" He asked to the corpse.

"That's not Avery," Rose muttered as she walked by, "Hasn't been for a long time."

Longfellow furrowed his brow at the Railroad Agent but didn't reply, unsure of what she meant. He guessed it had something to do with this 'Synth' nonsense.

He ignored her and looked up at the treeline surrounding them, the feeling of being watched was hard to shake. For all they knew, the cultists could be on their way right this moment. Longfellow stood back up and glanced over at the other corpses, particularly those belonging to the Brotherhood.

"Odd ain't it," He said, to no-one in particular, "Avery had them cover the bodies. Almost like they was getting ready to bury them. Didn't loot them or anything...odd bit of respect to show your enemies..." He shook his head, "Guess it don't matter though. Now we gotta bury em'."

"Come on," He said, urging the townsfolk to move quicker, "Lets get a move on."

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

Far Harbor - Returning from the Scavenging Mission

Working quickly as they could, and with the townsfolk's help, the group managed to scavenge what they could from the vertibird and take Avery's body along with them. The going was slow at first, but once they got back into the ruins of the old town, they breathed a sigh of relief: glad to be free of the oppressive foliage. Pretty soon, they were dragging their loot back through the gates of Far Harbor and into the center of town.

Just about everyone in Far Harbor came out to see the triumphant return, although their mood became much more somber when they noticed Avery's body.

As the group began to unload the gear and supplies, one of the Hull watchman gave a shout, and pointed to The Fog.

"Something's coming!" He yelled out.

Looking out towards the ruins, a single light bobbed and weaved through the old town and towards The Hull. As the light grew closer, it became clear that it was coming from a lantern. The lantern, unsurprisingly, was held by someone. A cultist wearing some type of painted white armor and cloak stepped out into a clearing in the fog. The face of the figure was covered, not by the usual masks, but by a helmet. Looking closely, military-minded members of the group would likely recognize the armor as being that of pre-war marines.

The figure spoke with a voice that was filled with both conviction and authority,

"Hold your fire," the armored cultist asked, a male voice audible through the helmet, "I'm not here to fight. I'm here to retrieve the bodies of our fallen brothers and sisters. The one you know as 'Avery', we know by another name. She is not the friend you once knew, I'm sorry to say. Captain Avery was dead long before today. The woman you killed...should be with her family, not with you. Do us this kindness...and we will return the favor in kind."

CORRINE DOOLAK - night time -- crash site to Far Harbor

"Avery", Steve said slowly, "That explains it....I'm so sorry, Corrine." He squeezed Corrine's hand gently.

Corrine nodded and sniffed, again. "Thanks. Seein' her reject comin' home was heartbreakin', but this...this is worse. Now she'll never return to us," she replied miserably. Steve began to shift his weight and seemed to want to stand up. Corrine wrapped her arm around him to brace and assist, slowly bringing him up to his feet. She left her arm around him, as he slowly surveyed the aftermath of the struggle. Castner and the other James seemed to poke around the wreckage and talk shop about equipment...or weapons...or weaponized equipment...hell if she knew what most of it meant.

There's something to be admired in the simplicity of a pike...

"Corrine, if we're taking her back to bury her...", Steve said, nodding at Avery and breaking her train of thought, "We oughta take the critter, too and bury them together....it's what both of them would have wanted."

Corrine looked over to Avery's body and watched as Longfellow knelt over her, muttering something. Her gaze shifted to the body of the tiny gulper that lay dead next to her. "Uhh. Well, right. Okay." She'd ask him what he meant by 'what both of them would have wanted,' later. Besides, she'd heard of weirder...

Longfellow directed the townsfolk and soon enough they'd packed up the bodies and salvage they wanted to bring back to town. Corrine said very little as she stayed very close to Steve, almost trudging her way back down towards town. The length of the day was starting to weigh heavily on her shoulders and she began to dream of her bed. What if she went to sleep and when she woke up, all of this had been some weird dream?

She led Steve through the gates of The Hull, directly through the square and into the clinic. Corrine gently pushed him down onto a cot and swept some hair off his forehead. "You can rest, now, okay? The doc is gonna check you over and fix you up, an' I'm gonna stay right --"

"Something's coming!" cried one of the Hull watchmen.

"..o'course it is," Corrine muttered. She looked over at Steve and gave him a pained look. "Better go see what the ruckus is." She stood up, picked up her modified spear, and stepped out to march back towards the Hull once more. She climbed the stairs and elbowed her way between a couple other harborfolk and rubbed her eyes, tiredly.

Looking out towards the ruins, a single light bobbed and weaved through the old town and towards The Hull. As the light grew closer, it became clear that it was coming from a lantern. The lantern, unsurprisingly, was held by someone. A cultist wearing some type of painted white armor and cloak stepped out into a clearing in the fog. The face of the figure was covered, not by the usual masks, but by a helmet.

At least, it looked like a helmet. It was dark, it was getting late, and damn was Corrine starting to feel exhausted.

The figure spoke with a voice that was filled with both conviction and authority. "Hold your fire," the armored cultist asked, a male voice audible through the helmet, "I'm not here to fight. I'm here to retrieve the bodies of our fallen brothers and sisters. The one you know as 'Avery', we know by another name. She is not the friend you once knew, I'm sorry to say. Captain Avery was dead long before today. The woman you killed...should be with her family, not with you. Do us this kindness...and we will return the favor in kind."

The hairs on the back of Corrine's neck stood up as it was slowly evident that several pairs of eyes had turned towards her. She glanced side to side and saw that indeed, the harborfolk seemed to have each looked to her, expecting her to respond. She swallowed on a dry throat. "What," she began, though it came out as a combination of a croak and a squeak. Corrine cleared her throat and tried, again. "Avery was one of ours, born 'n' raised on the Island, no matter what she...what she chose later," she called down. "She may have spent 'er last days...elsewhere, but her family, her real family, are the folks who stand with me here and behind this wall."

She started to shake. Corrine's emotions were beginning to catch up to her, as well as her fatigue. "Her roots," she began, her voice breaking, "her roots are here, with us. I'm sorry fer your loss, but our loss is deeper. Simple as that."

Corrine paused, to realize people were still staring at her. "Ah...oh, I guess I mean...no. Ya can't have Avery." She looked around to the stony faces of the other harborfolk, and suddenly felt irritated. "Well, ain't I right?!"

Captain James William- Returning to Town

With somewhat of an plan of action sorted out everyone began working quickly as they could to scavenge what they could from the Vetbird. For his role James approached a set of power armour inside the vetibird.

now how I am going to get my arm in there...
Thankfully for James the people at west terk had seeming though of this problem aready as when the suit opened up, the arm section also opened up allowing James to simply place his crippled arm inside and have the suit close around it.

been long time since I've been in one of these... everything looks completely different

Exiting the vetibird James with his new found power armour strength helped the local scavenge the wreckage of the vetibird before picking up some of the corpses to carry back to town. For some reason this also included the Gecko, supposedly because Steve had said Avery would have wanted to be buried with it... very werid but with the power armour the extra weight was nothing to James.

Later on- Far Harbour town..

After an uneventful walk back to town the group began to unload the gear and supplies but before James could exit his power amour one of the Hull watchman gave a shout, and pointed to The Fog.

"Something's coming!" He yelled out.

James turned to Brotherhood "If this is an attack we need stall them up long enough for Brooks (ooc: or whoever is manging the Brotherhood loot) to hand out the weapons and supplies."

Steve then turned to Brooks "start handing out the rifles although make sure people still take there 47-70 rifles, we are still gonna need those against armoured targets."

James then climbed the stairs to the Hull and watched as a cultist wearing some type of painted white armour and carrying an Lantern approached. like the other cultist leaders this was also wearing some sort headgear but this time it was an helmet instead of an mask.
probably expects to get shot at.

The figure spoke with a voice that was filled with both conviction and authority. "Hold your fire" they asked "I'm not here to fight. I'm here to retrieve the bodies of our fallen brothers and sisters. The one you know as 'Avery', we know by another name. She is not the friend you once knew, I'm sorry to say. Captain Avery was dead long before today. The woman you killed...should be with her family, not with you. Do us this kindness...and we will return the favor in kind."


wait... there was an human Avery and Synth? and how do these fruitcakes know about it? If she was an instuite agent she wouldn't have talked and runaway wouldn't replace someone...

As James though about this corrine cloaked an "what " before clearing her throat. "Avery was one of ours, born 'n' raised on the Island, no matter what she...what she chose later," she called down. "She may have spent 'er last days...elsewhere, but her family, her real family, are the folks who stand with me here and behind this wall."

well technically she's an different pe-Machine now

She started to shake. Corrine's emotions were beginning to catch up to her, as well as her fatigue. "Her roots," she began, her voice breaking, "her roots are here, with us. I'm sorry for your loss, but our loss is deeper. Simple as that."

Corrine paused, to realize people were still staring at her. "Ah...oh, I guess I mean...no. Ya can't have Avery." She looked around to the stony faces of the other harbour folk, and suddenly felt irritated. "Well, ain't I right?!"

"I have an question, well two actually" James stated with Brotherhood armour voice box echoing it down to the helmeted cultist "How did you know Avery was an synth? and do you know why it had replaced Avery?

James Gregor Castner

"Aye, seems like a good plan," Longfellow nodded, "The townsfolk can start stripping the bird and make some kind of sled from the parts. Ain't got to go far...just far enough to get us back to town. Don't know what to do 'bout the power armor, but I'll leave that to you two," He said, pointing to the two James', "Lets get this done and get this done quick. I don't want to be out here any longer than we have to. Them cultists might be back any moment now."

James nodded and went back to the power armor. His custom suit was still in the back where he had left it and he gazed towards it appreciatively. The helmet, right leg, and right arm had all been replaced with shiny T-51b, while the rest was all the original T-45. Just looking at it brought back memories of the good years. He reflexively reached around, popped open the back, and jumped in.

James mumbled an involuntary “hoorah”, as he felt the systems come online.

While the Enclaver grabbed all the corpses they cared for, he carefully detached the minigun. He directed him to grab the three Brotherhood men as well. Maybe they deserved something better than this.

James proceeded to direct the townspeople to what was and wasn’t important. He chose the islanders to use the two remaining suits for now, distributed the equipment evenly, and showed them the strongest and most useful salvage. It was not much more than an hour later when they left what remained of the Vertibird behind, departing into the night.

Back in the town…

At first, the mood was like any celebrating the return of victorious Knights. It was always that way before the reality of the casualties was realized. More shed tears for Avery than just Corrine. Even though the Enclaver and him knew that they were holding something else entirely, he didn’t have the heart to break it to them.

James was unlocking the 5th crate when the call came from the Watch: “Something’s coming!” He got up and quickly fell in behind the Enclaver as his stomach sank. Another attack now? Despite his power armor, he wasn’t exactly battleworthy.

The Enclaver turned and talked over his shoulder as they got up the stairs, "If this is an attack we need stall them up long enough for Brooks to hand out the weapons and supplies."

He nodded and unslung his own weapon. As he peered off into the void, a single light bobbed its way towards them like it was being carried on a large murky wave. Once it got closer, he could see it was a singular cultist wearing… pre-war marine armor? He was more than a little dumbfounded at the walking contradiction coming towards them.

The figure spoke with a voice that was filled with both conviction and authority,

"Hold your fire," the armored cultist asked, a male voice audible through the helmet, "I'm not here to fight. I'm here to retrieve the bodies of our fallen brothers and sisters. The one you know as 'Avery', we know by another name. She is not the friend you once knew, I'm sorry to say. Captain Avery was dead long before today. The woman you killed...should be with her family, not with you. Do us this kindness...and we will return the favor in kind."

As usual, he wasn’t sure what to say. Words weren’t always his strong suit. Corrine glanced side to side and saw that indeed, the harborfolk seemed to have each looked to her, expecting her to respond. "What," she began, though it came out as a combination of a croak and a squeak. "Avery was one of ours, born 'n' raised on the Island, no matter what she...what she chose later," she called down. "She may have spent 'er last days...elsewhere, but her family, her real family, are the folks who stand with me here and behind this wall."

She started to shake. James felt a pang of worry. "Her roots," she began, her voice breaking, "her roots are here, with us. I'm sorry fer your loss, but our loss is deeper. Simple as that."

Corrine paused, to realize people were still staring at her. "Ah...oh, I guess I mean...no. Ya can't have Avery." Seemingly flustered, She looked around to the stony faces of the other harborfolk. "Well, ain't I right?!"

"I have an question, well two actually" James stated with Brotherhood armour voice box echoing it down to the helmeted cultist "How did you know Avery was an synth? and do you know why it had replaced Avery?”

This was a mess. On one hand, there was no doubting Avery was a synth. The tech in her head showed that. To make matters worse, she wasn’t just a synth; she, or it, was a replacement. That made his stomach churn and his neck hairs rise. He had doubted Maxson’s grand conceptions of Synth spies, but here it was staring him in the face. Scientists somewhere got caught up in their power and only hurt humanity, rather than progressing it. Just like before the Great War.

On the other hand, this synth Avery had been leading these people for a while, as he understood it. She might not have even known she wasn’t real. It also seemed like the cult had done something to brainwash the synths. How else would they go from peaceful hilltop community to cultists foaming at the mouth with devotion? Rose had shown synths have their own kind of brotherhood and it was hard to see them breaking it for some island worship. Even if she wasn’t the original Avery, her true family was still in Far Harbor rather than with this cult.

His words came to him suddenly, sounding harsh and familiar in his power armor accent. “How did the synths of the island become so intimate with you?”, James shouted down. He halted, making sure his wording was right. Then he called down with some heat, “How do synths living peacefully in Acadia or Far harbor just up in leave their homes and become fanatical cultists the next day? No, I think Corrine is right. Whatever Avery was, she was a member of a family here first.”

James realized he may have spoken a little boldly in representation of a town he’d only been in for a day, and turned to Corrine in somewhat sheepish deferment.

Mr. Mysterious Cultist - Outside The Hull
"Her roots," she began, her voice breaking, "her roots are here, with us. I'm sorry fer your loss, but our loss is deeper. Simple as that."
Corrine paused, to realize people were still staring at her. "Ah...oh, I guess I mean...no. Ya can't have Avery." She looked around to the stony faces of the other harborfolk, and suddenly felt irritated. "Well, ain't I right?!"

"Stop calling her Avery," The cultist snapped, his voice laden with anger. After a pause he then added, his voice becoming softer, but no less stern "..please. That is not her name. The body of the woman you hold....her name was...is...Alice. The designation given to her by her creators was AS-33, but Alice is the name she chose for herself. The face you see now on her...the face of your Avery...that is not the face she was given either, but it is the one that she took on. It was an attempt at peace...one that did not succeed."

"I have an question, well two actually" James stated with Brotherhood armour voice box echoing it down to the helmeted cultist "How did you know Avery was an synth? and do you know why it had replaced Avery?

"Have you not figured it out by now?" The cultist asked matter-of-factly, perhaps even a bit surprised at the question, "The Synths of Acadia....and The Children of Atom.....even The Trappers..are as one now. United behind The One who leads us. One who will unite the island and bring lasting peace. Peace through The Mother of The Fog. Not through Atom...or through deception...but through The Mother. Who is The Mother?"

The cultist spread his arms wide, and seemed to be cloaked in the rolling mist, "Look around you. She is everywhere. Accept her, and even the creatures of the island shall bow to you."

The next question came from The Brotherhood soldier,

“How did the synths of the island become so intimate with you? How do synths living peacefully in Acadia or Far harbor just up in leave their homes and become fanatical cultists the next day? No, I think Corrine is right. Whatever Avery was, she was a member of a family here first.”

"And how does a Grand Zealot of The Children of Atom cast off the faith he once was willing to kill and die for, that he did kill for, and instead embrace the new?" The Cultist responded, his tone was unwavering, "Perhaps it is because they were both shown a different path, a path that led them both to the end they desired. And besides..." The cultist stretched out his hand, and a large gulper slithered up from behind him, coming out of the fog and nuzzling its head in his palm, "After you've seen the things we have. It is quite hard to remain a non-believer."

"People of Far Harbor!" The cultist suddenly yelled out, "Have you not wondered from where the Fog comes? Have you not wondered why it ebbs and flows like the tide? Have you never wondered why the creatures within dare not stray from its embrace, as a newborn might fear to stray from its mother? Have you never considered that it seemed to have a will of its own?"

The cultist left the questions hanging in the air, leaving the townspeople to decide for themselves what the answer might be,

"I have promised you a kindness for a kindness. Return Alice to us...return our sister, and we will do the same for you."

The cultist turned around and nodded his head. Immediately a band of white-clad individuals stepped forth, the lower half of their robes and boots were caked with dirt. In their hands, they bore a simple wooden coffin. Gently, they laid it down before them.

"Avery," The cultist uttered the name solemnly, "She belongs with her family."

Steve Miller - Doc Wright's - Far Harbor

"You can rest, now, okay?", Corrine said, clearly concerned as she eased him down onto the cot. "The doc is gonna check you over and fix you up, an' I'm gonna stay right --"

Corrine was interrupted by someone shouting outside.

"..o'course it is," Corrine muttered. She looked over at Steve and gave him a pained look. "Better go see what the ruckus is." She stood up, picked up her modified spear, and stepped out. Before Steve could do more then stir, Doc Wright closed in.

"You need to stay right here, young man", Doc Wright said as he gently pushed him back onto the cot and began to examine him. "From what I can see, most of the blood you're covered in is yours....hold still and let me get a look at you. Steve winced as the doc examined his wounds. After a moment, he looked up at Steve's face.

"Stimpacks seem to have done good work on the wounds...", Doc Wright said as he stood up and began to collect his instruments, "...but you've lost a lot of blood. You wouldn't know your blood type, would you?"

Steve shook his head no.

"Didn't think so", Doc replied sardonically, "Nobody ever does. First I'll deal with your wounds then we'll get some blood back into you." After getting his shirts off, the Doc gave him a shot of something and got to work. As the doc worked on him, Steve noticed through the front windows more and more people gravitating towards the gate.

"Any idea what is going on out there?", Steve asked.

"Nope', said the doc as he ran a probe through the bullet wound in his arm, and once satisfied the bullet had gone clean through, withdrew it and began to suture the wound closed. "As I haven't heard any shooting yet, it's probably nothing too serious....Corrine will tell us about it when she gets back." He then added sternly, 'Speaking of Corrine, you're lucky she was with you, mister...if you'd been alone you'd have died out there long before Longfellow and the others could get to you. I'm sure she warned you how bad it gets out there at night.'

"She did", Steve replied wearily, "But we didn't see any other option. If we hadn't, the Cult people would have gotten the equipment in Castner's Vertibird. With four suits of power armor, they'd have been no stopping them."

"Perhaps", Doc replied, "But that was a huge risk you fellows took....you got lucky this time, but I doubt that luck will hold if you try something like that again."

"Wounds closed", Doc Wright said with satisfaction as he stood again, "Now to type your blood and see what we have on hand." As he worked, he continued. "Wounds themselves weren't serious, what nearly killed you was that gulper nicked a vein when it tried to eat your arm.....good thing it wasn't a adult or you wouldn't have made it." He then added, "O Positive....your luck is still holding."

Producing a couple of blood packs from a decrepit old refrigerator, he put one on a IV pole and wheeled it next to the cot and hooked it to Steve. Several minutes...and two pints of blood later, Steve felt a lot better.

"You should be OK now", doc said, "I heard you have a room at the Last Plank....I recommend getting cleaned up, get a good meal and turn in....and no drinking for a few days, you're still a bit low. If you start feeling poorly, or notice any signs of infection, you come back to me immediately."

"Thanks, Doc", Steve said as he fumbled for his cap purse, "How much do I..."

"Go rest", Doc cut him off, "We'll settle up later".

Noticing his rifle propped up against a cabinet, where presumably Corrine had left it, Steve picked it up and shuffled outside. Catching his reflection in a window pane, he was a bit wan but not too bad, though his bloody coat and shirt certainly made him a sight. The area around the shops was deserted, though he could hear a discussion of some kind behind him in the direction of the Hull. Deciding to head to the Last Plank and get his spare shirt...and drop off the rifle... Steve turned and began to walk until he got to the Mirelurk boiler, at which point he stopped and began to look it over. Retrieving the suits had made his original idea a lot more viable...or at least would enable a operator to survive a hose rupture without being scaled to death...so he looked at the gauges and gave some thought to how to convert it into a makeshift weapon against the bizarre creatures that inhabited this place....until he was distracted by the sound of Corrine's raised voice.

"Ya can't have Avery.", she said. After a pause, she then spoke again, irritation in her voice. "Well, ain't I right?!"

Concerned, Steve then began to gravitate towards the Hull, as he heard both Jamses shout questions, apparently at someone outside the walls. Making his way through the crowd, he reached Corrine's side just in time to see several Cultists move up and place what was obviously a crude wooden coffin on the ground next to what appeared to be one of the cultist leaders.

"Avery," The cultist said solemnly, gesturing at the coffin, "She belongs with her family."

Slowly it dawned on him that the cultists wanted to exchange the real Avery's body with the synth they..he...had shot. Steve didn't know Corrine well enough yet to read her easily...but he suspected that she was stricken right now.

"Corrine", Steve said gently as he placed a hand on her back in an attempt to comfort her, "What do you want to do?"

CORRINE DOOLAK -- the wall - nighttime

There was a bit of a murmur in response to her address of the other harborfolk. Corrine didn't take it too personally; it was late, after all, and fatigue certainly plagued all of them. The woman Zelda, standing nearest to her, on watch at the wall, gave her a firm nod and a slight squeeze on the arm.

Both James and Castner seemed to appear in the throng and of course had their own questions. Corrine's immediate, internal response, was to feel annoyed that mainlanders couldn't help but shove themselves in the middle of island business. She swallowed a lump in her dry throat and merely let them speak. Besides, Castner's volunteering of Brotherhood equipment and tech was more than generous. Brotherhood was only mostly spoken about in whispers and rumours, but one constant thread was their general distaste for sharing any of their weapons or knowledge with regular folks. Even he recognized the desperation of the situation and put aside his deeply ingrained ways.

Gettin' soft, Corrine...

"People of Far Harbor!" The cultist suddenly yelled out, "Have you not wondered from where the Fog comes? Have you not wondered why it ebbs and flows like the tide? Have you never wondered why the creatures within dare not stray from its embrace, as a newborn might fear to stray from its mother? Have you never considered that it seemed to have a will of its own?"

The cultist left the questions hanging in the air. No one spoke a response. He continued.

"I have promised you a kindness for a kindness. Return Alice to us...return our sister, and we will do the same for you."

The cultist turned around and nodded his head. Immediately a band of white-clad individuals stepped forth, the lower half of their robes and boots were caked with dirt. In their hands, they bore a simple wooden coffin. Gently, they laid it down before them.

"Avery," The cultist uttered the name solemnly, "She belongs with her family."

It were as though the next few moments unfolded in slow motion. The cultists stepped back from the coffin, laying in the exact spot to be illuminated from a half a dozen lanterns in the nearby vicinity. Corrine leaned forward to grip the rail with both hands and felt as though it took several moments for her body to lean close enough to grab hold. She could hear every molecule of air that entered her lungs as she gasped. Her pulse pounded like a slow, but deafening, hammer in her ears.

"Corrine", Steve said gently as he placed a hand on her back in an attempt to comfort her, "What do you want to do?"

Corrine blinked, and everything seemed to have gone back to real-time. "I...huh? I..." She swallowed, again. "Wait, what're you doin' on your feet?"

She inhaled slowly, minutely aware that it seemed both the cultists and the harborfolk were waiting for a response from her. Corrine turned Zelda who was still standing next to her, who had reached out to her before. "Come with me."

"Sure thing," Zelda replied gruffly. Harborfolk parted to let them cross the hull, down the stairs, and exit the gate. The cultists' faces were hidden, by cowls and by darkness. It made Corrine feel unsettled.

"That there coffin better not be a trap, y'hear? The second Corrine's hands get blown off, we start shooting!" cried one of the harborfolk from the wall.

Corrine frowned, and felt her stomach sink. "C'mon," she motioned to Zelda, taking one side of the coffin top.

"On three..."

Slow-motion seemed to return as the coffin top was pushed off and slid onto the cobblestones with a dry clattering. The smell hit her first. Not so much the offensive odour of decomposition, but dirt, decay, and mud. She covered her nose and mouth with her sleeve and finally dared to look inside.

There, before her, was a collection of human bones. Corrine peered over the edge and looked the bones up and down. Zelda gasped, then shrieked, and jabbed her hand into the coffin. "It's hers," Zelda babbled, holding up an instantly-recognizable relic: Avery's locket. "This is she, this must be. Oh...oh my god!" Zelda cried, falling to her knees, much like Corrine had.

Corrine's heart was beating a mile a minute. She looked between Zelda and the dusty bones in the coffin and swallowed, hard. No. I saw her die.

"It's a pile of bones!" Corrine yelled out, hoping most on the hull and the cultists could all hear her. "This...this could be anyone you dug up! It doesn't prove a single thing you just said." She turned to address the harborfolk on the hull and around the gate. "That woman we carried in, who looks like Avery, who sounded just like Avery, I saw her...perish. She got hit by a bullet, and blood flew out and..." She had to pause, becoming choked up all over again.

Corrine turned back to the cultists. "Y'all have been operating in shadow -- in Fog -- and done nothin' but antagonize, threaten, and...well, and kill, or try to kill! Maybe this is Avery, and maybe you murdered her, yerselves, or..." She wiped her brows with the back of her hand, cursing the stiffness settling in to her joints in the late evening air.

She glanced up towards where Steve stood on the hull. Corrine gave him a small nod. She wouldn't admit she had reached a point of having less care for her life than before, after the day's events, but the feeling inside of her was quite similar. She turned back towards the cultists.

"I need more than just her trinket. These bones don't prove a thing you said. 'sfar as I care, the woman inside Far Harbor is Avery."

Mr. Mysterious Cultist - Outside The Hull

"It's a pile of bones! This...this could be anyone you dug up! It doesn't prove a single thing you just said." She turned to address the harborfolk on the hull and around the gate. "That woman we carried in, who looks like Avery, who sounded just like Avery, I saw her...perish. She got hit by a bullet, and blood flew out and..."
Corrine turned back to the cultists. "Y'all have been operating in shadow -- in Fog -- and done nothin' but antagonize, threaten, and...well, and kill, or try to kill! Maybe this is Avery, and maybe you murdered her, yerselves, or..."

"I need more than just her trinket. These bones don't prove a thing you said. 'sfar as I care, the woman inside Far Harbor is Avery."

There was an uneasy silence for a few moments, as the armored cultist seemed to stare at Corrine. With his face hidden underneath the marine helmet, it was impossible to judge his mood or to even guess what he might be thinking.

A sudden voice called out from amongst the robed throng of cultists. Directed squarely at Corrine,

"How dare you question the Grand Zealot's word! He speaks for the Prophet! You're nothing but a...."

The armored leader simply lifted a hand, and the voice immediately gave way to silence,

"I understand," He said finally, as he lowered his hand, "You have no reason to trust us. No reason to believe what I say. I can see that you're still coming to terms with what happened back in that clearing. In your eyes, you saw a member of your community, a friend, die. Perhaps in some way that even brought you closure, because even as she fell, you knew that you would finally be able to bring her home. Finally, she would be free of the terrible cult that had ensnared her."

As he spoke, the cultist made his way over to Zelda, and extend his gloved hand. Zelda hesitated for a few moments, but she finally relented, placing the locket in his open palm with a trembling hand.

"You don't want to give her back," He continued, as he walked back over to Corrine, "You think she's back where she belongs, and you'd rather fight than give her up again. That's good. The will and desire to fight for one's family is the purest emotion one can experience. Far be it from me to deny you that triumphant realization." He began to roll the locket over in his hand and then opened it up, staring at the worn and beaten image within.

"You should know, however, that I have that same desire as well...." With a resounding snap, he closed the locket and offered it to Corrine.

"Keep it, and Avery as well," He motioned to the open coffin, "I leave you to decide what you wish to believe. Either believe that your friend left your community to seek a greater purpose elsewhere with another family..and died for it..or believe that she died long before she could ever make that choice. When and if you make it, I only ask that you consider my request again. Until then...we return to The Mother."

"HOLD IT!" Yelled a voice from the hull. Standing on the parapet, was Rose, holding a hunting rifle aimed straight at the cultist, "You aren't going to leave until I get some goddamn answers." Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and she was struggling to hold the gun steady.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO THE SYNTHS!" She cried out, "Where's DiMA? Where's Nick Valentine? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH THEM?"

"Nothing. As I said..." Came the calmed reply from the cultist.

"LIAR!" She yelled back, "....won't let you leave. Can't let you leave..."

Rose squeezed the trigger, but the expected shot didn't come. Instead, her attempt was met with a dull 'click'.

"Wha..." She looked down confused, and let out an enraged scream before tossing her rifle to the ground, "I'll kill you..." She seethed, "I swear it..."

At this, as if at a signal, one of the Fog Condensers nearest to the spot on the hull near Rose began to flicker and sputter. Within only a matter of seconds it had died with a final pop of electricity that sent a shower of sparks cascading to the ground around it in spectacular fashion. The fog that had been previously swirling around it coalesced and began to wash over the hull like a breach in an invisible wall. The thick fog rolled in, and covered the spot where Rose had been standing. No one was more surprised than she was, but she didn't move, but instead remained rooted to the spot.

She disappeared into the Fog, and there was silence for the briefest of moments, before the Fog Condenser once more gradually spurred to life, although it was obviously barely functioning now. The Fog condensed around it once more, and then rolled back and away from the town. However, something was wrong.

Rose was gone.

The mysterious cultist turned back to Corrine once again, unfazed,

"Your town is living on borrowed time," He said, "Tell your people that they must make their choice soon. Far Harbor can not remain as it is. Someone must make them choose..."

With that, the assembled group of Cultists turned and walked back into the fog-covered ruins of old Bar Harbor, melting back into its protecting envelopment and leaving the denizens of Far Harbor questioning what they should do.

Captain James Williams- X1-25- Talking to Doctor Ayo

"The Mother of The Fog. Not through Atom...or through deception...but through The Mother. Who is The Mother?"

yes who is this Mother of the Fog..

The cultist spread his arms wide, and seemed to be cloaked in the rolling mist, "Look around you. She is everywhere. Accept her, and even the creatures of the island shall bow to you."

so they are literally worshipping them fog....... Morons

“How did the synths of the island become so intimate with you? How do synths living peacefully in Acadia or Far harbour just up in leave their homes and become fanatical cultists the next day? No, I think Corrine is right. Whatever Avery was, she was a member of a family here first.”
synths are immune to radiation so the cult could seem as would be gods but why would synths join them? Especially just to be low level loot gathering grunt.

before James could hear the cultists reply as heavily staticed "hello" echo into his head again. Turning of the power armour external speaker James fiddled with the suits comms systems in an attempt to boost the signal.

"Hel## this is doctor AY## from the inst### can you h#ar me sy### X1-25" the person called out before seeming shouting at someone else "Rowds boost the signal"

"but at that level someone may be able to detect it."

"Just Do it!" the man angry snapped back " X1-25 can you hear me?"

"yes although not to clearly" James replied

"I should this so, what the devil are you doing so far up north? the town of Bar Harbour if out sensors are correct...Have you forgotten your mission?"

"No... My memory hasn't fully come back yet but there are synths on this island, an entire settlement or alteast there was. The settlement is empty and synths have supposedly joined an the "children of the fog" cult. There is also two railroad agent here investigating what happen to this settlement...I have eliminated the human and will attempt to reclaim the synth."

"children of the fog?" are they like the Atom cult? do you have any info on this cult." the man replied before seeming getting into an argument with the "Rowds" person he was ordering about earlier but James was able to clearly hear what was said.

"The Cult is based out of an per-war nuclear sub base with alteast 200 members, they are heavily armed and armoured, they seem to be able control local creatures and may of had one of the snyth replace a local town residents... The cult is currently showing us an body suggesting she died years ago but I'm not convinced.

"Given that the cults base is in an nuclear sub base is it also possible that the cult has one or several nuclear bombs although I do not know if they have the ability to use them or not."

"synth inflator!" the man shouted "X1-25 I have to end this call soon and Bar harbour is too far north to send any immediate backup but your new orders are to investigate this cult, if they are behind the replacement of the synth destroy their equipment and kill or capture the persons behind it.."

"understood sir"

"Good, I will dispatch an raven to shortly, use it to relay any info back to us until we established an secure signal."

With the Call over James re-joined the conversation with the cult who had seemlying given up attempting to reclaim Avery body although not everyone appeared to agree with them suddenly just leaving with Rose.. the railroad agent shouting " Hold IT"

Rose angry shouted several questions at the cult before the cult leader could reply however the fog condenser near rose suddenly died.. even stranger instead of moving Rose stood still and was taken by the fog.. At this angle James was able to see her arms but he suspected she had been shut down, allowing the cult to simply move her without a struggle. although both implications of this troubled James.

the Fog Condenser once more gradually spurred to life, although it was obviously barely functioning now. The Fog condensed around it once more, and then rolled back and away from the town. However, something was wrong.

The mysterious cultist turned back to Corrine once again, unfazed, "Your town is living on borrowed time," He said, "Tell your people that they must make their choice soon. Far Harbour can not remain as it is. Someone must make them choose..."

Once the cult had walked back into the fog-covered ruins of old Bar Harbour and out of sight James turned back to the others... "Anyone else think that was staged? They took that railroad agent too quickly and easily.... did anyone see her arms go down when the fog approached her?" he asked..

"Oh and can someone help me get this off?" James asked as he parked up his power armour "should go and see the doctor about my arm before the foggers come back."

James Gregor Castner

Rose was gone.

The fiery synth had been standing on the Hull no more than 12 feet away from him, and she was gone in a flash of sparks and a puff of fog. James wanted to shout something, anything, but the shock and his training kept him silent. He felt utterly disturbed by what he witnessed.

"Your town is living on borrowed time," the head cultist said, "Tell your people that they must make their choice soon. Far Harbor can not remain as it is. Someone must make them choose..."

With that, the assembled group of Cultists turned and walked back into the fog-covered ruins of old Bar Harbor, melting back into its protecting envelopment and leaving them dumbfounded.

Of course, it was the Enclaver who opened his mouth first. James turned back to the others... "Anyone else think that was staged? They took that railroad agent too quickly and easily.... did anyone see her arms go down when the fog approached her?" he asked..

Castner shook his head out of uncertainty, rather than denial. “She seemed surprised, but didn’t move like the rest of us would have. The cult must have some way of effecting synths with the fog. Maybe Rose was forced to go. I hate to say it, but it seems like some kind of magic.”

"Oh and can someone help me get this off?" James asked, as though they hadn’t just been faced with something momentous, bizarre, and downright unnatural. "I should go and see the doctor about my arm before the foggers come back."

Castner sighed and helped the Enclaver out of his power armor. “My makeshift bandages from earlier will do for now. I’m going to talk to Corrine and Steve about our next move.” He got out of his suit too and went to Corrine and Steve, thinking the Enclaver might follow.

He moved quickly to them and talked quickly to them. “It’s good we got Avery, but we need to start preparing the town. That sounded like the last bit of diplomacy we would get. We should get all those projects we had in mind going with the vertibird stuff. Do you still have people good at working on the Hull and other engineering? (OOC Wondering if the Mariner is still around).”

He paused abruptly and stared at the spot where Rose was. “Rose couldn't have just disappeared,” he said slowly “What if they somehow forced her to run off into the Fog? If she moved quickly, she could have run off in the short time we couldn’t see her. I’m going to check for tracks. They could lead us to the cultists. Can either of you help me?” James went over to the ground near where Rose stood and started looking for footprints or other signs. [Roll for tracking]

Old Longfellow - The Hull

“It’s good we got Avery, but we need to start preparing the town. That sounded like the last bit of diplomacy we would get. We should get all those projects we had in mind going with the vertibird stuff. Do you still have people good at working on the Hull and other engineering?.”

Longfellow scratched his bearded chin a bit in contemplation, "Not sure really. The Mariner ain't around no more since she left to go find the Red Death. And nobody's really taken up the mantle to keep up the hull. I can maybe get a few strong backs together for lifting and the like, but we could use somebody who can tell them what to do and how to build it up better for protection."

“Rose couldn't have just disappeared,” he said slowly “What if they somehow forced her to run off into the Fog? If she moved quickly, she could have run off in the short time we couldn’t see her. I’m going to check for tracks. They could lead us to the cultists. Can either of you help me?”

"I probably need to head back and make sure everyone is alright. If they grabbed the girl, they might have done something else while we were distracted. Corinne might be able to help you though if its tracking you're after."

--

Castner kneels in the dirt and starts to look for signs of what might have happened. Even without Corrine's help, it would have been hard to miss what he finds. There's a large set of tracks imprinted in the soft earth near the hull leading up to where Rose disappeared. Corrine would likely be able to identify them as Gulper tracks, albeit abnormally large ones. Although given what they've seen so far, its not too surprising. The tracks lead off back into the Fog but its hard to say which direction they go or how far in. The only other thing of note is that there's no sign of blood anywhere to be found. (Roll passed)

Steve Miller - The Hull

Steve's blood froze as the restarted condenser cleared the fog from where Rose stood.....or had stood anyway. He'd seen some things in his short but active life...but nothing like this. She was gone, all that remained was the rifle that she had thrown to the ground in frustration. Steve's knees buckled for a moment and he was forced to steady himself against the parapet of the Hull.

The Cultist leader turned back to Corrine once again, the simple mask he wore concealing his features with impassive blankness.

"Your town is living on borrowed time," He said, "Tell your people that they must make their choice soon. Far Harbor can not remain as it is. Someone must make them choose..."

With that, the assembled group of Cultists turned and walked back into the fog-covered ruins of old Bar Harbor, melting back into its forbidding depths and leaving only questions in their wake.

"Anyone else think that was staged?", James...the Enclave one...asked loudly. "They took that railroad agent too quickly and easily....did anyone see her arms go down when the fog approached her?"

“She seemed surprised, but didn’t move like the rest of us would have," Castner replied, shaking his head. "The cult must have some way of effecting synths with the fog. Maybe Rose was forced to go. I hate to say it, but it seems like some kind of magic.”

"Oh and can someone help me get this off?" James asked as he backed into the power armorrack, "should go and see the doctor about my arm before the foggers come back."

Castner sighed and helped the Enclaver out of his power armor. “My makeshift bandages from earlier will do for now. I’m going to talk to Corrine and Steve about our next move.” As Steve descended the stairs, Corrine rejoined him. Castner got out of his suit as well and went to Corrine and Steve.

“It’s good we got Avery, but we need to start preparing the town. That sounded like the last bit of diplomacy we would get. We should get all those projects we had in mind going with the vertibird stuff. Do you still have people good at working on the Hull and other engineering?.”

"Agreed", Steve replied, "We don't have much time, and a lot to do."

Longfellow scratched his bearded chin a bit in contemplation, "Not sure really. The Mariner ain't around no more since she left to go find the Red Death. And nobody's really taken up the mantle to keep up the hull. I can maybe get a few strong backs together for lifting and the like, but we could use somebody who can tell them what to do and how to build it up better for protection."

"What kind of tools do folks have here?", Steve asked, "Does someone here have power tools for working with wood, metal and the like?" after a pause, Steve continued. "And I apologize in advance if it's impertinent to ask this....but where does this settlement get it's power from?"

Steve then looked back at Castner. "Referring to what you said earlier...magic, James? That's not something I expected to hear from a man of science", Steve said with a chuckle, finding it ironic that magic had been the first thing that popped into his mind as well, silly as that may be. "Kinda odd though how the rifle, then the condenser, fail then Rose doesn't react how she should. But then...a synth is a machine. A far more complex mechanism than a rifle or that condenser, but a mechanism all the same. What could affect all three within such a short period?"

Castner paused abruptly and stared at the spot where Rose was. “Rose couldn't have just disappeared,” he said slowly “What if they somehow forced her to run off into the Fog? If she moved quickly, she could have run off in the short time we couldn’t see her. I’m going to check for tracks. They could lead us to the cultists. Can either of you help me?” James went over to the ground near where Rose stood and started looking for footprints or other signs."

Steve joined James and Corrine as they approached the spot where Rose had been standing. As tracking wasn't something he had any experience in, he let Corrine take the lead and stayed back so as not to interfere. Instead, he picked up Rose's cast off rifle, giving it a cursory examination [opening breech enough to see if it loaded (without ejecting the round) and making a quick examination to spot obvious problems that would have caused a 'failure to fire']. He then looked over at James and Corrine.

"Find anything?", he asked.