ACT ONE
“My fellows…”
The powerful voice of Josiah filled the great cavern within Kettler Mine. They all were shoulder to shoulder looking up at him, “they” being his people. Or his “fellows” as Josiah preferred to address them. Josiah - founder of Havenwood - stood high on his balcony above the assembled mass of mutants and humans, the denizens of the rugged Havenwood. Those who were cast away by the rest of the world and just wished to live in peace. Those who were willing to defend and even die for their new home here within the heart of the forest. Those who followed the word of Josiah near religiously and looked to him for answers and guidance when it was most needed. And as of late the men and women and mutants of Havenwood were in need of much guidance.
“It has been… many weeks… since the tragedy at Rafeton…” Josiah said firmly, the very room temperature dropping it seemed at the mention of the bloody massacre committed by the Republic Guard of the NRS just months ago. “We lost six of our own as you all know… and the good people of Rafeton were slaughtered without mercy. Those good people that had come to welcome us.”
There were discontented grumbles that rose up from the crowd but with a gentle wave of his right hand the white-clad Josiah silenced them so he could continue.
“I know that there is sorrow in your hearts. I know that rage wells in your veins and boils your blood. But I ask that you, good folk of Havenwood, still yourselves and remember the way of our community. What I have always asked of you in return for your trust in me. I have heard… rumblings amongst you. Talk of revenge, plots to make the New Republic suffer for what they have done.”
“And what they continue to do even now!” someone immediately bellowed out among the crowd causing a mixed stir among the gathering, some shouted out things like “Shut up!” and “Let Brother Josiah speak!” while others shouted things like “Enough is enough!” and “We’ll never be safe!”
There was a sudden slam which immediately silenced everyone, all eyes looking back up at Josiah who had pounded his fist onto the metal railing before him.
The golden orbs of Josiah’s eyes seemed to pulsate threateningly within the confines of his white veil which sent a chill through many that stood below. Josiah said nothing for a moment, still as a statue and silent. Deliberately cultivating an uncomfortable silence in the crowded cavern before finally continuing - lowering his fist back at his side.
“I tell you now Havenwood, my kin and my friends, war is not the answer. War… is not… the answer.” Josiah repeated the simple phrase with more emphasis on the second time. “We cannot fight the New Republic, their army, and we cannot risk exposing ourselves to the world. What happened at Rafeton was a tragedy to say the very least and I do not wish to see it repeated nor any more of our people perish.”
“Then what do we do?” Exclaimed a green-skinned female mutant, her arms out. “We cannot stay hidden here forever, Brother Josiah, the Republic and those accursed Blackwatch draw closer every year. You yourself know it is true!”
Josiah stiffened as several others shouted in support for the mutant woman while again others called for silence so that Josiah might share his wisdom. Josiah did not strike the railing this time, rather he simply stood and stared down, allowing the crowd to calm itself after a few moments of bickering.
“I know what we must do.” Josiah proclaimed, raising both his arms - a heavy silence immediately gripping the room as everyone waited to hear what their founders’ grand solution for their growing problems were.
The afternoon sun rose high over Sully’s Rest - a humble trading post that sat upon Highway Three. It was a particularly baking hot late summer day, the fifth in a row in fact. As if nature was intent on pouring all of the sun’s fury into the final breaths of the mid year season before fall came. The trading post was lively today, without a doubt travelers were flocking in to relieve themselves of the scorching heat for a spell. The usual sounds filled the air; words of haggling that floated around the front gate and the general store, the telltale metal bangs and buzzing of power tools from Tony’s Repair, and the gentle clinks of silverware against plates at Stella’s Dine-Out. Stella herself, a young woman who had taken over the Dine-Out from her father, had just put on a gentle track in her portable music player. Up on the rickety wooden and tin ramparts nearby the handful of watchmen enjoyed the pleasing strums of the guitar and violin from below as they scanned the distant horizon, their rifles firmly gripped in their hands.
“Hey, Pete!”
Pete the lead watchman, a weathered man well in his forties, looked over his shoulder down below. Having just served everyone lined up at her counter Stella had stepped outside of the old shack that served as her kitchen and called up to Pete, idly wringing a tablecloth in her delicate pale hands.
“How’s it looking out there?” Stella asked.
“If I see something you’ll all know!” Pete yelled down, his ratty black beard twisting up with his smirk.
The young Stella nodded and walked back to her shack, casting a gaze around as she turned the corner back around behind the counter. She noticed that there were quite a few newcomers in Sully’s Rest today - or rather unique newcomers. And several of them seemed to be quite heavily armed. Of course this was nothing out of the ordinary, wastelanders and drifters had to be prepared given what was out there. Even so, there was something about a few of these people that had the young cook curious. Such as the motley-looking gun-hand with brown hair, and the scarred up man with dark hair and cybernetic implants of some sort. Was it curiosity or was it caution however that had her eyeing these people so? Stella finally shrugged to herself and returned to the deep fryer. All sorts of people had come and gone from here ever since she was a child, from vigilante gunfighters to taciturn NRS patrolmen. It was just part of living at a roadside post like Sully’s Rest. So why did Stella have a feeling that something was so off? That something was not right in the moment?
It must just be this heat.
