2sky11

Deadlands - A Supernatural Western

Rick

Rick had listened in on the meeting these foreigners had with the priest. They were after highly sought-after Ghost rock. He may not be in US territory, but it was his duty to find out of their intentions and what they planned. He joined them after they left the church, no one seemed to object to his presence or perhaps hadn't even noticed him.

When the priest had shown the stone, he was left awestruck. He never had seen the stone, he wasn’t an engineer or miner. But he had heard stories of it and its volatility. Those stones could power some pretty school stuff but some highly deadly contraptions as well. Under the wrong hands, this rock could pose a threat to the safety of the Union.

They headed to a cemetery and stood before the grave of the priest’s friend. Rick removed his hat as he listened to the priest speak of him. He wondered whether the rock had cursed him and caused him to die or if he had been cursed by one of those magical folks. Rick found it best to shoot first and ask questions later when it came to folk like that.

Rick looked at the priest, “Was it the rock that did this to him?” He was curious, and it made him wonder perhaps if the rock was responsible for some of the dead rising again. He wanted to ask the priest if Charlie ever walked after dying, but that would’ve been exposing the folk here to too much information, information that was his duty to suppress.

Deadlands - A Supernatural Western

Rick - Bar
Rick downed his second glass of bourbon. It was the cheap stuff, but it did its job. He was about to pour himself a third glass when he heard a loud shout and clattering. Seemed like one of the patrons got handy with waitress. Rick didn’t pay it much attention, it was common in most places, and he wasn’t one of those romantics that went on about protecting a women’s virtue.

As he poured his third glass he sat up on his chair as a man came through the door of the adjoining store. He started to pummel and kick the groper. He was agitated, and everyone in the bar was afraid or intimidated by the man. Rick stood up and walked over to the man while holding his drink in his hand. He firmly placed his hand on the man’s shoulder, “I think he had enough? How bout you lay off him?”

Deadlands - A Supernatural Western

Rick - Selina

Rick stood outside the town’s bar, small looking place, just like the town. He got off Civil, and the horse went about to wander around town. Rick had nothing to worry about; the horse knew how to protect itself, last bandit that tried to steal it, ended with kick to the head that nearly killed him. Besides, Civil hated being tied up and tended to get itself loose.

Rick walked into the bar and sat himself down on a table overlooking the entrance and window that looked outside. He leaned back on the chair, and put his boots up on the table. A waitress came along, older woman, looked annoyed at him. Probably didn’t appreciate him putting up his feet on the table.

He looked at her, and handed her some coins, “Bottle of bourbon and a cigar.”

He waited for her as she returned and handed him a bottle, a glass and a cigar. She poured him his first drink, and after lighting his cigars and giving it a few puffs, he leaned further back and tilted his hat down, covering his eyes. He just sat there smoking and drinking as the town went about it business. He listened as people talked. Nothing interesting, just your usual small town chatter; how crops were growing, cattle prices, who was shagging the local school teacher, nothing of interest to him.

He was nodding off, when there was some commotion outside. It made him wondered if someone tried to steal Civil, and had been knocked out cold. He tilted his hat slightly up, and could see some wagon pulling up, with a dead cougar on top. Rick just smirked, and tilted his hat back down, and poured himself another cup.

War Never Changes

Free Commonwealth of Pennsylvania

There was a great lull across the border. Not a sound to be heard, not even birds chirping in the air. It was as if all nothing wanted part of what was about to happen. Nothing that valued its existence would want to be here, nor would it want to witness it. Just days ago, the sounds trails of smoke clouds rising from trains could be seen, but today there was stillness.

The thousands of men and women that made up this army group, was reflecting on what was to come. Many clutched their tricord hats or double checked their Kevlar vests that would provide some protections from the enemy. Yet they were all silent, only the gust of the wind could be heard, and soon even that died down. Had this been the Wild West, tumbleweed would roll across the distance.

Sam looked towards her general, who were closely affixed to a communications station. Suddenly a phone rang out. The ringing sound rang out loud, breaking the stillness, the soldiers below stared up at the tower were the governor and her war council convened. They knew that the ringing phone would be sealing in their fates.

The communications tech answered the phone and handed it to Sam. Who remained almost silent throughout the call, once she hung up she just nodded her head, and one of the generals flipped a switch. A red light bulb lit up in the tower and across various locations across the border. This was the signal they were waiting for.

The artillery stations began to hum and grind, as the silence was broken and they began to move. They faced west, but needed their elevations to adjust. Within minutes of the light bulbs turning on, the artillery guns came alive and great thundering sounds echoed across the border. Following the thundering bangs, the horizon lit up in flames as the shells began striking the ground.

The field saturated in exploding shells, surely pulverizing anything that stood in its way without remorse. The shelling continued for what seemed forever. After an hour of continuous, almost nonstop shelling, everything quieted down, just according to plan. Everything had been planned down to the last second, and everyone knew their part.

As everything quieted down again, the silence was once again broken by the sounds of whistles. As the whistles rang, the gates along the walls opened up and on came the troops, marching by platoons, following the Banner of the righteous. As the straight lines of soldiers made there way onward, the artillery began thundering again, providing protection ahead of their steps, this would continue for as long as their range allowed. The war for the Commonwealth began.

Deadlands - A Supernatural Western

Rick Matthews – Road to Salina

Rick had field dressed the rabbit pretty quickly and roasted in with some kindling he found nearby. It was good lunch, and got him energized for the remaining leg of his trip. He looked around, and there was no sight of anyone other than himself. He quickly packed up, put out the fire and got back on his horse.

Civil, his black Morgan horse, had been his faithful companion for the past 8 years. However, the horse was only passive when Rick rode him. If anyone else tried to ride him, they would be quickly knocked down. It came quite in handy to prevent thieves from running off with horse. Especially since it didn’t like being tied down to a post.

They set off again down the path toward Salina. Civil seemed to be riding quicker now that it had its fill of water, and they expediently arrived to the small town. Rick slowed the horse down to a trot as they reached the edge of town, and slowly made his way down the main street. People hurriedly walked about going on with their task, every so often looking back at him.

Not common to see a stranger riding into town. Usually he was welcomed into any town, but that was when he wore his Cavalry uniform. Out here in the disputed lands, strangers were trouble. He headed towards the local saloon. That would be the best place to scope out town and listen for any tall tales.

Deadlands - A Supernatural Western

Rick Matthews – On the Road to Salina

Rick galloped at a steady pace. He wanted to get to Salina as quick as possible. It seemed that he had been riding forever, and the plains were not helping, making it seems as almost that he was standing still. He preferred rockier terrain, made for better riding. This was the first time he was riding into disputed territory on his own, without other soldiers.

He would have to be attentive at all times, lots of outlaws out in these parts, looking to make a quick buck or kill for the fun of it. Plus, you have the odd bear, wolf or mountain lion that could be around. His main concern at the moment was the high humidity and overbearing, scorching sun. No clouds in the sky, luckily his hat and coat protected him from sun, but it didn’t relieve the heat.

He came up on a watering hole, and made a quick stop. It would do the horse good to drink some water, after all he’s been riding for about 2 days. He rested against the wall of the well, and looked at his orders. There were reports of someone speaking about magic and living dead, things the government wanted to keep a clamp on. He needed to get to Salina and find the person responsible for these “rumors”.

He folded the orders and placed them in his knapsack. He patted the horse as it drank water. He looked across the horizon in all directions, and it was all empty, save for some tall grass and tree here and there. He pulled out a map and checked his location. He was a few hours away, not too far, should get there before nightfall.

He quickly reached for his gun pulling it out when he heard snap. He looked around and let off a shot, killing a rabbit. He holstered his gun, and let out a sigh, for a second there he thought someone was coming up on him. He walked over to the rabbit and picked it up, it would make a fine lunch.

War Never Changes

Sam Wilson – Free Commonwealth of Pennsylvania – Western Border

Large plumes of black smoke spread across the sky, as locomotive after locomotive arrived at the station. Men and Women offloaded the locomotives, for the most part concentrated on their task and getting some rest. They shuffled away from the trains, in formation, heading for makeshift tents and other shelters set up to house everyone. A nice respite was needed, after all this might be the last bit of rest many of them would ever have.

As they approached the camp they came upon tables, and were handed the last uniform many of them would ever wear. It was plain but efficient. It was brown, a grimy looking brown that matched the color of the land. It had been carefully matched to the surrounding environment, to help hide their appearance. If one was asking the men and women to give up their lives, the very least they could do was provide them with a fighting chance.

As they all streamed into camps, they were met by priest dressed in black, leading men and women n singing psalms and hymns. Their voices carried throughout the camp. There was a solemn feel to the camp, not one of fear. It was as if the men and women congregated in this camp, had come to accept fate. Their fate, to follow the banner to war, and destroy the heathens that had for a long time harassed the western border of their simple and plain nation.

Governor Sam arrived accompanied by her personal guard composed of Crusaders. These guard units were dressed in armor. It wasn’t powered armor; it was more reminiscent of that used by Crusaders in the age of old. A muted silver, so that it would shine much, but enough that it would stand out and a red cross adorned to the front. These were elite soldiers, willing to give life or limb for their cause, and zealous in their beliefs. However, unlike old crusaders, they were armed with assault weapons, and super powered sledge hammers. Not only do they guard the governor, they lead the common soldier into battle. They are the first to strike and the last to leave. All willing to surrender their lives for the banner of the cross, and do whatever it took.

Sam looked at the maps laid out before her. It showed the long line of fortification that had been built along the western front, guarding Pennsylvania from the cult. Aside from the occasional missionary that was permitted through, not much trouble occurred. Pennsylvania had been a peaceful commune, one that focused more on defense than offense. However, Sam knew the Cult couldn’t be trusted; they were just waiting for the right moment to strike.

The old government would’ve never approved a first strike, however, Sam and her Crusaders, made sure they wouldn’t be in the way. They were delicately removed from positions of power and replaced with their own. Future history books would call it a bloodless coup, bloodless only because no blood was spilled, but lives were taken. Now, they could carry the holy banner of the Cross westward, and retake lands that were rightfully theirs.

Sam thought back to the conference were war had broken out. It had been a failure, after all long lasting peace was the goal, but war pretty much unraveled after day 1. It hadn’t all been a failure; an alliance had been reached by the Pennsylvania and various other nations along the eastern seaboard. That had been beneficial in getting some needed supplies and materials.

She studied the map carefully; various smaller camps were set up along the long border. To provide additional protection for the border, however another camp of equal size had been set up north. The bulk of the army would launch from these two point and eventually would be joined by a third force striking from the middle, the goal was to push cult units inwards, and slaughter them. The Banner of the Cross had deemed none of the enemy combatants worthy of redemption, and only the release of death would suffice for them.

The last of the trains had arrived, and soon the strike would begin. The Revered Father had been present, he gave the officers his blessings, and they made their ways to their men. In the morning the Army of the Cross would march, following the lead of the banner. Death would come to those that oppose them.

Deadlands - A Supernatural Western

Rick Matthews

Stats -
Agility: 5
Smarts: 6
Spirit: 4
Strength: 5
Vigor: 5

Skills –
Fighting - 5
Riding - 5
Shooting - 5


Gear – Carries standard issue Springfield model 1873 rifle along with two Colt M1878 handguns. When not in uniform, he wears black trouser and vest over a shirt. Typically wears a tan trench coat that is ragged on the edges, and a dark brown Stetson.

Background – Lived in NYC, but enlisted at age 16, lying to recruiters about his age. They didn’t really care as the army was always in short supply of fresh meat. During training, one of the horses went crazy but he managed to calm the horse down. A cavalry officer was present, and gave him a shot to try out for the cavalry. He proved to have a knack for riding, and was as good a shot on the ground as he was horseback at full gallop.

He has spent most of his time out west, patrolling the border and fighting the occasional skirmish with CSA patrols. For a while the goal was to keep the Indians and CSA in check but the recent peace deal has made things slow and boring. He has started a few fights with CSA patrols, though has made sure to cover his tracks by making sure they were all dead and leaving no survivors.

After serving in the cavalry for 8 years, he was about to leave the service, however the same officer that recruited him to Cavalry, offered him the chance at a commission to be an officer. He would’ve been a fool to pass it up and took on the chance. Compared to the other officers he felt out of place as he had been a poor boy from New York, but wasn’t going to let it bother him.

What he’ll never forget was his first mission as an officer, leading a group into the badlands of the disputed lands. He’ll never forget the second night. They had just stopped a large group of outlaws that had slaughtered an Indian village. They had killed most of the m, but had managed to capture the boss and a few henchmen. As they camped out, rustling sound could be heard followed by eerie gnarling sound and shuffling. Rick stood immediately grabbing his pistols as the rest of his mean stood to their feet, wary of the situation. Without warning they were set upon, by what seemed living dead. One of the same men that he had personally killed, was on his feet trying to kill him, despite a gaping hole in its chest.

The bodies of the dead Indians were also among them, and they attacked without care. He watched as the dead killed and tore apart some of the arrested outlaws and some of the horses. He rallied his men as they shot and pushed off the attackers. Soon out of bullets they took to hand to hand combat, fighting them off with whatever was at hand. His saber proved useful, as did bashing in the creatures heads with the butts of rifles. Before long, the battle had been over, and he had lost half his men.

He loaded the bodies of his fallen men, on a wagon they found in the village, and they set the remaining bodies on fire. When they arrived back to their outpost, he and his men were taken and isolated in a barrack. It was here he was reassigned. He was to join military intelligence, and work under the officer that had shown interest in his career all these years. What he had seen and experience, he would keep a secret. The populace was not ready to find out about those the things that lurk out there. His men, were also reassigned to a special company that dealt with such creatures, after all they had proven their worth in fighting them off.

Taking on his new role, he would ensure, knowledge of these creatures remain a secret and take care of anyone that would divulge such knowledge.

Worst Nightmare – Being eaten alive

https://imgur.com/a/hZ9WkgQ

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

Ace Makovich – Clinic – Afternoon

Ace stood by Brandy’s side. She had again drifted off to sleep. She must have been exhausted, having to outrun a deathclaw and only getting away with very few wounds. Ace was a bit unsure as to what he should do at the moment, whether to remain by her side or return to the diner and assess the damage caused by the creatures.

“Help me. Where is Lorelei?” A man uttered as he crashed through the doors and onto the floor. It had startled Ace as he was deep in thought. *Did he say Lorelei?* Before he could respond or move, Frieda helped the man and place him on a cot. She seemed almost lost in her own world. She soon looked at Ace and pointed at some blankets and requested them.

Ace walked back towards the table with the blankets and took some. He handed them to Frieda, and as he was handing them, Celeste appeared looking for the doctor, however, as soon as she saw the man she seemed to recognize him. On a closer look, Ace recognized him as well. He had served him at the diner a few days back.

Ace decided it was perhaps better to leave clinic. After all, Brandy was asleep and now they had new patient. As he was walking out, the doctor arrived right on time and proceeded to treat the man. Ace made his way to the diner, but rather than enter through the front door, he decided to use the cellar door and enter unannounced.

As he made his way down Barney left the diner. It seemed Betty and Steve were still inside. Ace closed the cellar door and made his way to his bed and collapsed on it for a bit. He was exhausted, but would need to get ready for the town meeting.

A Life in Salem - A Fallout RP

@Lunarshe might be waiting for a bit, walls arent complete yet, and no one is watching them, as far as I remember, Could be wrong. The town meeting being called for will go over those subjects.

Also here is link to our discord chat, discord.gg/W3SYC7a