[color=9e0b0f][b]Vikia - On The Road to Cincinnati[/b][/color]

Vikia sat lounging within the Paladin-Lord’s large tent, picking her teeth with a broken sliver of bone taken from the radstag she’d hunted only a couple hours earlier. She watched Paladin-Lord Traven pacing his tent with growing frustration and stared at him with complete disdain. She got the distinct impression that these Brotherhood types didn’t like anything to fall outside of whatever tightly ordered structure they lived by, and any slight deviation from it made them nervous. That kind of thing got on her fucking nerves to no end.

“Your men are late,” Traven hissed as he continued his endless short patrol around the tent’s small interior. 

“Relax your lordship, take a load off, ” Vikia mocked as she tossed her makeshift bone toothpick to the ground and then put her feet up on a nearby footlocker, “Bloodhound is my best scout. He and his boys will be back before sun-up. Until then, just chill the fuck out.”

“I should have never allowed this….” Traven mumbled to himself, “Using goddamn raiders for scout patrol. What the hell was I thinking?”

“Careful asshole,” Vikia growled, “You came to us. Remember? Besides my scouts could run circles around those tribals of yours. I’d love to see them track a pack of Trogs through the underground.”

Traven opened his mouth to retort when they both heard footsteps outside, followed by a flap to the tent opening. A short raider in light armor with an infiltrator rifle strapped around his shoulder entered the tent. The raider spat on the ground, and looked to Vikia first, “We saw it.”

“And?” Traven interrupted, stomping towards the scout. 

Bloodhound glanced over at the Paladin-Lord with a sneer, then turned back to Vikia, “Whole cities fucked. Viky….I’ve seen some nasty shit in my time, but there’s a whole other level of fucked-up shit going on there. Must be thousands of those mutant things all over the place. I only caught glimpses of them through my scope, but what I seen was enough for me.” 

“And the defenses?,” Traven barked impatiently, “Are the outer lines holding?”

Bloodhound turned and looked to the Paladin-Lord, as if finally recognizing he was there, “If by that you mean those smashed barricades. No. Looked to me like those mutant fuckers just broke through. Whole western side of the city looks like it got leveled.”

Traven collapsed into his chair, despondent, “Then it's over. The city is lost. The inner lines won’t hold,” the sadness etched on his face quickly turned to anger, “I told that savage Queen of yours it would be too late. She should have listened to me.”

“Watch it, that’s the second time you’ve mouthed off,” Vikia growled, getting to her feet, “Not gonna be a third time so if you want a bullet hole in your forehead keep on talking.”

Bloodhound leaned in and whispered to her, his voice slithering through the air like a venomous snake, “Let’s just gut the fucker and be done with it Viky. His tribal guards out there ain’t even armored. They probably got some decent enough loot between them for us to split. We can toss em’ in a ditch somewhere and say the muties got him - ain’t nobody gonna be the wiser.”

“No, Blood, we still got a job to do,” Vikia replied loud enough for the Paladin-Lord to hear as she brushed past Bloodhound to address Traven directly, “So what are you going to do now?”

“Me? Nothing.” Traven replied without missing a beat, looking Vikia straight in the eyes, “Run as far away from here as I can get maybe. I’ll be branded an outcast and put in front of a firing squad if I’m captured for abandoning my post, but at this point that’s a preferable alternative to being taken alive by The Unity. Once Cincinatti falls nothing will stop them.”

“Good. That makes this next part easy then,” Vikia smiled, drawing her sawed off shotgun from its holster and pointing the business end at Traven, “From here on out you can just consider yourself an honored guest of Lady Ashur.”

“Send word to The Pitt, tell them what’s happening at Cincinnati. We need to be ready.”


[color=0054a6][b]Mags Black - At the Gates of The Pitt[/b][/color]

Mags wasn’t proud of her escape from Nuka World. The attack on the park was just as quick as it was brutal. Ostensibly it was just The Minutemen under that damned Colonel MacCready that had led it, but Mags knew that the precise well-oiled nature of the operation had The Institute’s fingerprints all over the place. Whatever defenses the gangs had managed to throw up had been overwhelmed in short order, and that just left The Overboss and a few holdouts at Fizztop Mountain. Mags knew the game was up long before then, Fizztop was no fortress - and so she’d split with her Operators and turned tail, escaping through a tunnel dug underneath the park’s wall. 

After that it’d been total chaos. All she knew now was that William was dead and the remnants of her gang were either captured, killed, or scattered. She was a gang leader without a gang - but she had a plan - just as she always did. The Nuka World raiders had long been doing business with a place known as ‘The Pitt’ which they bartered slaves with in exchange for guns and ammo. It was a city of raiders, apparently, a place someone like herself could no doubt take advantage of. So she’d made her way there, confident she’d be back on top in no time. 

Mags had smelled the city before she’d ever laid eyes on it. It was unmistakable, the stench of heavy industry filling the air for miles and miles around. When she finally rounded a hill and laid eyes on the city proper,  it looked like a fiery wound in the earth, tearing through the landscape and sky around it. She could see great plumes of fire from the stacks and pillars of black smoke spreading out in all directions underneath the sickly orange hue of a smog choked sky. Mags knew the wasteland very well, understood its miseries and hardships: but this was different - there had to be a new term invented for the blasted landscape that surrounded the ruins of Pittsburgh.

Her gaze was finally torn from the distant sight by the bellowing of a steam engine whistle, and she looked down at the bottom of the blasted hillside to see a ramshackle black steam engine barreling down a set of tracks leading towards The Pitt. The words “DC Express” had been crudely painted along the side of the coal-car hitched to the engine. Raiders armed with scoped assault rifles sat perched atop the tops of the cars, or manned light machine-gun turrets mounted at different points along the train's length. Most of the train's many cars were filled with shackled slaves, while the last few flatbeds were stacked high with 50 gallon drums stamped with a strange symbol and the words ‘Augustus Autumn Water Treatment Center.”

Mags hesitated, fearful of just what she was getting herself involved in, before she made her way down the hill. 

[hr]

The bridge leading to The Pitt was packed tightly with traders, slavers, and all manner of cutthroats looking to ply their various trades within the city. Mags was only one of many seeking entrance to The Pitt, and the first gate to pass was just up ahead: a large fortified steel gate that completely blocked the entrance to the bridge. Pitt soldiers patrolled its parapets and ensured that anyone attempting to pass through it was properly searched and vetted: sometimes turning people back for one reason or another. It was a strangely well-ordered operation.  

Of course the fact that occasionally someone would end up tossed over the side into the ungodly filth of the polluted river below was reason enough to ensure compliance.  

Mags thought she knew how to handle this situation though. She just needed to be brash, confident and always make it seem like she knew something that everyone else didn’t. It had worked in Nuka World with Colter quite well - it would work here too. 

When it finally came to be her time, Mags stepped up and addressed the two guards who had just allowed in a brahmin rancher driving in some of his herd to sell. 

“I’m Mags black,” She said proudly, a wry smile spreading across her face,  “Leader of the Operators gang of Nuka World…I’m sure you’ve no doubt heard of us through your trade network.  I request an immediate audience with your leader Marie..mmpppfff!”

Mags buckled over as one of the hulking raider guards knocked the wind out of her by smashing her stomach with the butt of his assault rifle. 

“You don’t speak the name of the Lady of The Pitt outsider… you request nothing, you demand nothing, you ARE nothing,” He sneered.

“I…just want to….to join up,” She gasped out through sucking breaths. 

“Heheh did that bitch just say she’s a raider? Don’t look like much,” The other guard chuckled darkly, opening his mouth in a crooked grin to reveal a set of filed yellow teeth, “She’s a real pretty one though…nice smooth skin and lovely hair. Is that a blue bow in her pony-tail? Aww how cute. You know, she’d be a great addition to the Second Circle…The Madam is always looking for new talent to make her some caps. Maybe she could put those pretty red lips of hers to good use…”

Mags snarled and got up to her feet, throwing a punch at the raider and giving a confident yell as she swung. She caught him off balance and knocked him square in the jaw, sending a couple of his nasty yellow teeth flying to the pavement below. 

“FUCK!” The raider shouted while clutching his jaw, “The bitch just hit me!”

In a flash, the hulking guard was on her, pinning her up against the side rail of the bridge and holding her hands behind her back in a vice grip. Mags felt him tie a rope around her wrists tightly and then she felt herself being lifted up and over the railing. 

“Beg Ashur’s Mercy you die quickly. You don’t want to know what happens to those who survive the plunge.” 

“Stop!” 

Mags heard someone call out behind her, and the raider guard set her back down and turned to the origin of the voice. A raider woman with dark hair and heavily tattooed skin approached, a large caliber scoped revolver holstered at her hip. 

“Bridge Captain Sulpha - this wretch attacked Zero. She should be thrown from the bridge as punishment,” the large raider protested.

“Yeah knocked out three of my teeth too…fuggin bitch,” the skinny yellow-toothed raider added. 

“And I’ll knock out a few myself if you don’t stop whining,” the raider captain, Sulpha, snarled hatefully, “So are you two idiots in charge of recruitment now? Did Lady Ashur anoint you as judge over her?”

“N-n-no Captain Sulpha but….I mean just look at her she ain’t no raider.”

“Shut up. Are you so stupid that you think Our Lady would deny any fighter the chance to join her army? This woman wants to join up…well she can and prove herself in The Hole just like the rest. If Ashur deems her worthy…he’ll grant her victory. If not….” Sulpha smiled, a cruel grin spreading across her features, “Well…the Trogs need to eat too don’t they?”