Alfhedil

Fallout: Into the Storm

Khaliya, The Swordwind

December 3rd, 2286
Fleetwood Subway Station

If she had been expecting an overwhelming positive response to her attempt to spur the group on and towards their objective, then she would have been foolish indeed. Khaliya knew full well that with how divided the group was and how little they seemed to care for the Brotherhood as a whole, that she would be lucky to get even one on her side, but she wasn't aiming for that. She did exactly as she intended, to get enough of them to pay attention and understand that this wasn't just a series of individuals. They were a group whether they liked it or not, and if they didn't then they could turn back now and there were no hard feelings.

Sure enough there was talk amongst them, and it wasn't just her who had heard the talk of the Enclave from one in particular. Jeremiah was on edge already from her prior comments, and now his eyes narrowed towards Monika and Bailey. On the move, there was determination set in his eyes until Khaliya pushed past him. Last thing she wanted was to ruin all that talk she had just given to the group with her husband making war among them, and it took just one firm look to communicate exactly that to him. It didn't matter if one or the other was secretly Enclave, they had a common goal in this and she bore down on Jeremiah off to the side.

"What happened to keeping it diplomatic?" She still watched the others getting the supplies of course, forming up a plan of action as she counseled her husband. Not even a moment before he had warned her off starting a fight with the Talon mercs, when in truth she was just having a little fun getting a jab in at their expense. Yet now, when the Enclave comes up in idle chat between two others, he bristles and gets ready for battle.

"They are here for a reason, Jeremiah. We need to work together on this. From the moment we walked down those steps into the subway, our loyalties changed to keeping this group together and ensuring this mission succeeded. Do you remember?" Only a slight nod came from the larger man, arms crossed as he looked down at her and took heed of her words. Indeed, on the way there she had explained quite clearly the mission they were on as given to her by the Pariah and the importance of each member of this team. "Everyone here has a purpose."

"Even if-" There wasn't even time for him to get the rest of the thought out as she cut him off. "You don't know that, and I don't know that. We can't go after people based only on suspicions and assumptions, nor will we try to find out. The Necropolis is dangerous enough without having to watch our backs. Now, get back in your armor and get ready to move out."

Though it was clear at least from her perspective and anyone who might have listened in that the conversation was over, there was no denying the distinct concern on Jeremiah's face as he watched her walk away. Something was bothering him about the mission, not just the idea of working with possible enemy forces or going into hostile territory with them at his back, but something else. While the others readily dismissed her attempt at a pep-talk to get them moving, he had listened carefully and was not entirely enthused by her choice of words. It was something to bring up later though, as already she was getting ready to move on.

In full power armor she was at least able to stare down at people, but she avoided that for the moment as she gathered a spare suit for herself and Jeremiah, moving just ahead of the ghoul to address those ready to move out.

"Get your gear and get ready to move. I'll take point, Jeremiah will cover our six. Support personnel and non-combatants keep to the center of formation. Talon Company form up just ahead of them to provide fire-support, and you two…" Here she pointed to Alexis and Marvin, both the long-range specialists in their group. "You're with them on watch. We don't know what will be lurking in the buildings, so let's keep scopes on the high-ground and ahead of us at all times. Everyone else, spread out and stay alert."

Fallout: Into the Storm

Going to work on my next follow-up post for a bit tonight and tomorrow, as well as continue on the NPCs section of the character's tab. Just in case anyone missed it, that is a thing now. Just three NPCs for now, with the Pariah's important information pending as I consolidate things.

Fallout: Into the Storm

Fallout: Into the Storm

_{The party as it stands}

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Khaliya Bertrand - The Swordwind
Marvin Hiller - Spectre
Monika Weiss - N/A
Bailey De Lara - Ares 4-1-H
John Delaware - Field Agent Lambda
Frankie Cabrera - Doc
Emil Sauer - Emil
Servius Curius Proculus - Vespillo
Brian Moller - Short-Fuse
Phineas Holiday Cassidy - Finn

---

Inactive PCs
Alexis Darksong - The Mask
Jerry Rig - Black Fingers
Rylan Cabot - Paladin
Devon Baines - N/A

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Important NPCs

The Pariah

Talon Leader "Prism"

From the fires of the last battles in the Capitol Wasteland, few of the raider factions were spared the wrath of the recently victorious Brotherhood of Steel. 2278 had been a turbulent year, and without an enemy to properly challenge them, they took to cleansing the region of any and all who might oppose the order they were trying to establish. No small group by any means, the Talon Company was the first to feel their wrath. From the very onset of the offensive they had known that they were no match for the full attention of the Brotherhood, least of all while they were struggling to maintain morale in the face of losing Elder Lyons and his daughter trying to step into the role of leadership. After losing a series of leaders in pitched battle after pitched battle, a woman going by "Prism" arose to take the helm of the dwindling Talon Company. Regarded as fearless in the face of defeat and pragmatic in the worst of situations, she made a series of controversial decisions that allowed the organization to survive the onslaught.

For most the cost was too high, as she knowingly cut support to entrenched positions and allowed her people to die in order to stall the Brotherhood. To her all that mattered was the survival of Talon Company, and it can be argued that it was because of that mentality of sacrificing the few for the many, that they survived beyond 2278 and into the current day. She still leads the remnants, some thirty or so odd survivors, but dissent remains even eight years later, and some resent her decisions. Most prominent of those would be the change to their organization and goals, turning their backs on being a glorified raider outfit for hire, and trying to be something more in line with the Gunners of the northern regions. No longer do they just hunt down anyone and everyone trying to make a change for the better, instead focusing on the more "domestic" and as some may put it "glorified caravan guards". It has allowed Talon Company the chance to regroup and stay somewhat relevant though, but with Prism's journey into the Necropolis and leaving the greater organization in the hands of her lieutenants, that could change drastically.

Jeremiah Bertrand

Unlike Khaliya who has somehow managed to attain the attention of people across the wasteland on the East Coast and just beyond, Jeremiah's only real accomplishments can be that he hasn't died yet and is one of few people that can hold onto her attention. A relative unknown within the Brotherhood, he's fairly average in marksmanship and CQC, can be said to be rather diplomatic and for all intents and purposes, is what one would expect out of a Paladin.

The Grey Wolf

Armann Storstrand "The Grey Wolf"

In the wasteland, few tend to live towards the end of their natural lifespan, even among some of the better off settlements and factions. It is inevitable that disease, radiation, raiders or some other event will cut a man or woman down in their prime. So it is that those few who see life in their forties, fifties and even sixties are people rightly to be respected for their skills, or feared because of them. Among a conflict-oriented group such as the Brotherhood of Steel this is all the more true, as there are plentiful opportunities to clock-out early. Armann Storstrand stands as one of that rare breed who has seen more combat than some entire squads put together. A man who has lived for sixty years and put fifty of them in the brotherhood, his life is one of resolute and stoic dedication.

His story began in 2236, when just like a good number of others in the Lyon's Brotherhood, he was discovered by a passing patrol through tribal territory in the savage north-west. At the time, a much younger Owyn Lyons was an up and coming knight in the order and already full of hope for the future of the nation. Especially then his ideas did not sit well with the Elders, and so it was by their orders that the two would be destined to meet. By Armann's own recollection it was in the middle of the volcanic season in Washington, ash storms rocking the region and plummeting temperatures to the point where shelter or power-armor was the only chance at life. His tribe's own had been battered by storms coming in off the Bering Sea just a month prior, and one by one they had started to succumb to the biting cold. Lyons and his squad had seen the fires of their settlement and at first thought to make contact and wait out the storm, but when they arrived they were faced with a hard choice.

Then squad-leader Paladin Ricard had made it clear that it was Brotherhood policy not to interfere in such things, to allow them to die, but Owen made his case as women and children clung to the last standing building for life. Much of the exchange has been lost to history and Armand's own fading recollection, but he remembers vividly how passionate Lyons had been that the ways of the Brotherhood should be to protect and uplift the people of the wasteland, rather than to leave them to their fate. However it had gone down though, the rest of the squad supported him and Ricard had been swayed as well, ordering them to reinforce and ensure the building survived. Three days later the ash storm had subsided and warmth returned to the point that the tribe would survive. While many had been grateful and eagerly supplied the Brotherhood with what they had on hand, Armann had been enamored with them and wanted to go with them. Once more it seemed that the squad would descend into dissent, but surprisingly Ricard allowed it. So began Armann's journey with the Brotherhood.

Years passed, many of them at the side of first Owyn Lyons as he struck out and forged the East-Coast Brotherhood of Steel, and then at the side of his daughter as one of her instructors. Battle after battle, one betrayal after the other, he remained ever loyal to the idea that had been instilled in him as a young boy, the idea that the Brotherhood should be as armor to the common people. He took to the Brotherhood and their principles with a passion that few matched, one that though it cooled over the years, only hardened into an unbreakable will that has seen him survive encounters that would have seen any other man or woman dead. All of that without once claiming any of the glory for himself.

Yes, though he stands as a towering pillar of what the Brotherhood stands for, a resolute paladin with an unshakeable faith in what Lyons set out to do, Armann has never once sought a promotion beyond his station. For years he remained as a knight even, though he had been well-vetted and insisted upon by multiple elders to take up the mantle of Paladin or even Star-Paladin. There had even been whispers of naming him Sentinel, but all were refused except for when Owyn Lyons himself pressed the badge into his hands and called him Paladin. For Armann, the idea of serving the Brotherhood for anything other than the principles they set out is a betrayal to the order, and though he has become more taciturn and reserved in his old age, he has never shied away from speaking his mind on such things.

That has gotten him into trouble of late especially, and lended credence to a myth that once circulated about "The Noble Savage". While he had changed from that child plucked from a tribe living with barely spears, huts and fire on the far north-western coasts, it was only ever a tempering of his true self. Beneath the soft-spoken and carefully chosen words, there is a violence within him that has seldom been seen except in the most brutal of battles. The only time he had ever raised his voice among others of the order even, was the day two years ago when the senior officers of the East-Coast Brotherhood witness him shouting down Arthur Maxson for what he believed to be treason. Just days later he had been given the order to gather a squad and embark on a mission, one which he obeyed despite his doubts on the order's leadership.

So it was that Paladin Armann Storstrand, Alexandria Reiksguard, Tomas Benoit, Ruben Benoit, David Maine, and Girard Parker set out to the Necropolis on what they all knew to be a suicide mission, but followed through in the name of duty and honor to the Brotherhood.

Fallout: Into the Storm

Khaliya, The Swordwind

December 3rd, 2286
Fleetwood Subway Station
Interacting with - @Apocalypse

Just the handler, how convenient. Keeping the thought to herself as well as the smirk to accompany it, she played off the deflection with the shift in conversation and just filed it away. She knew just as any other paladin in the Brotherhood that there were certain organizations out there with an interest in their activities. Foremost among them were the Enclave, but with their crushing defeat on the East Coast and most of their number in the wind they were not the threat they once were. Rumor persisted of another group up a little more north with the same technological advantage, but operating under far more secrecy. Khaliya cared little for such rumors until hard evidence could be gained, but Maxson had fell into them with an eagerness that bordered on obsession.

There was some credence to such things though, as she picked up on that slight mistep from Alexis. Not to mention that her eyes were sharp enough to notice the difference between the all too perfect parts of the rifle that were far from pre-war standard. It was too clean, too well put together, and just from that offered look she could tell that wherever Alexis had acquired the parts that such things were just the tip of a technological iceberg. Of course she hid it well with a tempered enthusiasm, accepting the rifle and turning it over a moment to get a better look, then shouldering it briefly. The weapon fit well into her shoulder, resting easy and clearly adjusted for a long range duty.

"It's well put together, a fine weapon." Khaliya said at last, returning the rifle and casually resting back against the chest of her power-armor. The slight against her own plasma weapons very nearly got her to bite, but she pushed it down and just smiled back at her. "The pistols were once rifles to be honest, and belonged to my parents. Scribes wanted to take them and keep asking about them, but due to my actions in the big skirmish in the Capitol they had to be less insistent about it. That and it helps to flex a little muscle from time to time."

Her expression there made it clear that it wasn't just a metaphor, flexing her right arm briefly and chuckling back at the woman. It helped her to keep from pushing a little too much on her, to try and understand who or what she was. Too many things struck out at her, the small hints dropped here and there, the rather abrupt shift when she seemed about to say something she shouldn't, and just the way she handled herself. She could tell that The Mask was on the older side, and in the wasteland few people lived to their later years without particular skills or luck. Khaliya knew better than to assume luck.

The brief pause in conversation allowed her eyes to wander from her comrade, glancing over the administrative booth and seeing the caretakers engaged in their own over a short-band radio. Curious, perhaps something has developed… That thought went on hold as the older man of the pair set down the receiver and started heading out to address the group. In one hand was a poster with hastily scrawled writing on the back, a set of notes it seemed. Several of those gathered near the rails had noticed the motion and turned their attention to the old man, others following suit.

Before long most of those in the tunnel were looking over at the caretaker as he took out a set of reading glasses and began to address the group. Khaliya motioned to Jeremiah off to the side and Alexis before her as well, feeling that perhaps this was a message from their benefactor.

"Thank you adventurers." He spoke with a soft and gravely tone, age and radiation wearing down on him over the years. "I have here a message from the one who gathered you all here. The Pariah is pleased to see that everyone who received the invitation is present, as well as a few others who were allowed to come along. Unfortunately, information was recently acquired that demanded their presence deeper within the Necropolis urgently. You will each find a suit proofed against the radiation inside the city, patches for when damage is incurred and geiger counters to continually monitor levels. A map has also been provided, and though it is an Old World copy, the Pariah has marked several places of interest as well as what he believes may be inside."

A momentary pause was left there as the other caretaker came out with a key to unlock a storage trunk next to the administrative area. Opening it was the supplies just as promised, enough suits for everyone in the group including those who were otherwise proof to elevated radiation.

"Your first objective is what he believes to be the remains of what was called the 'USSR Consulate' before the Great War. Supposedly another nation had people staffed there and several vaults below. The Pariah feels that they would have survived assuming the building remains standing, and has a few specific items that he would like salvaged. First and foremost, his interest lies in any data storage devices, paper documents and blueprints that may be stored in the vaults." Such was not what most were expecting, though in fairness the Pariah had never specified exactly what they were after when recruiting. Mere data had never been too important to the average wastelander, only the larger and more advanced groups had sought it out actively.

"Your patron has advised a route, but it will take a day or so to get there on foot with the hazards in the city." It seemed that was it, the caretaker nodding slowly and rolling the paper back up as he began to head back towards the administrative area. Some grumbling among a few of the mercenaries gave him pause, glancing over the group as the leader of the Talon Company trio stood up to direct her frustration at him. "You serious? He wants us to go digging around in some old building deep in one of the most dangerous zones on the East Coast, for some useless papers? The fuck?" It was a bit on the hostile side, and some like Khaliya got a bit defensive as it seemed a fight was poised to break out, but a nod here and there showed that it was not an uncommon sentiment. Instead, she decided to take the diplomatic approach.

"Sounds like a walk in the radioactive park to me, but if it's a little too much for you Prism, then you're welcome to go back to trying to salvage what you can out of what remains of Talon Company." An undisguised barb at the mercenary captain's pride, Khaliya faced her with one hand on her hip and plasma pistol there within reach. "Let's be honest, not all of us are here just for the glory." A glance around the group showed some agreement, and she started walking towards the front so that she could take a good look at each person gathered in turn. "Some of us are here to get a second chance, either for ourselves or for those we hold close. A chance to be a better person, or the chance to give life to another."

Khaliya stood next to the caretaker, looking over the group carefully as she spoke in even tones. For a brief moment her eyes met Bailey's and a knowing glance passed between them as if she was telling her that she had an idea as to what she was. "A few have come here not for ourselves or our family and friends, but for all people. The chance to show everyone that we can do more than just survive. We can take back what we lost, do better than before, and rebuild. That is why I am here. Not for the glory, not for myself or my family. Not even for the Brotherhood."

A concerned look from Jeremiah held her attention for a moment, but she didn't let it stop her, standing proud before everyone as she pointed to the trunk full of gear. "I am here to show that we are no longer at the mercy of the wasteland. When we walk out of the Necropolis, we will do so with our heads held proud and declare to everyone that it is time. It is time to rebuild America, and not under a dozen different flags struggling against each other and the wastes, but under the only flag that matters."

Fallout: Into the Storm

I always find it hilarious that whenever I sit down and make out a plan to get something done by a certain time, something happens to ensure that it doesn't happen. Big storms came through my area, and the increasingly incompetent service provider lost service for a couple hours in the night. Those couple hours just so happened to be right as I was getting off work :v

So yeah, I have most of a post done, but want to fine-tune it a little bit now that I have looked over the IC again.

Fallout: Into the Storm

This week has been rather destructive on my sleep patterns, but hopefully workplace issues should be resolved this weekend and I can get into a somewhat normal posting routine soon. To that end, I'll be working on an advancement post later tonight while at work, so expect some plot movement within the day +/- a few hours. That is unless everything goes tits-up yet again :v

Fallout: Into the Storm

@Apocalypse It's all good, I honestly didn't think I would get a post out this morning because of how little sleep I've had the last few weeks.

Fallout: Into the Storm

@Oskar DiLondra Sounds good to me, there's bound to be more than a few people like that hanging around, especially near the wall and the few safe entryways into the Necropolis.

Fallout: Into the Storm

Khaliya, The Swordwind

December 3rd, 2286
Fleetwood Subway Station
Interacting with - @Apocalypse

No stranger to being observed either on the battlefield or off, Khaliya's sharp eyes returned the analyzing gaze with one of her own. Of course, she maintained eye-contact as she did so, but took in every detail she could from there on the ground with The Mask. She had been quick to notice the cybernetics, and something about the woman told her she was no stranger to them herself, perhaps even having a few of her own. That was something of interest that she quietly filed away for later use in case the need arose, but for now all she offered was that same carefree smile.

"They are a mere setback, namely from a momentary lapse in patriotism. Brotherhood cybernetics may be the best in the wasteland, but they have their faults unlike certain others."

Khaliya didn't go further with the statement, though something about her tone and the way she moved on to the next topic made it seem as if she knew more than she let on. That or she simply didn't like talking about how she came about getting half of her body sleeved in cybernetics.

"Perhaps when we're done with this little adventure we can have a moment to talk about your friend and discover if they're a mutual acquaintance. For now, we are on the same side and I appreciate having someone at my back that knows their way around plasma. You rig that rifle up yourself?"

Now she took a moment to truly indulge herself, both hands on her plasma pistols and bringing them up with a twirl to flourish them. It let Alexis see quite clearly that they were older models and extensively modified, namely to discharge fast and hot in a machine-pistol configuration.

"Brotherhood frowns upon unsanctioned modification of equipment, but when you're a Star-Paladin and you've got plasma heirlooms then there's not much they can really say."

---

@HamakazeKai

For a long moment after Bailey activate the radio a series of cryptographic ciphers clicked on and off, encrypting the channel and only once it chimed a gentle notification of completion did the voice speak.

"Ares 4-1-H. Receiving signal. Noise from nearby radioactive zone interfering with full ciphers, will be brief. Eagle has spread its wings, talons sharp and ready. Presence of treason understood and reported by Sigma P-6-T. Enter into operations area and rendezvous with agent at 40.89 and minus 73.85. For now do not engage treasonous forces and focus on making contact with agent. Silence is to be maintained after confirmation of orders."

Fallout: Into the Storm

@Apocalypse Knew I forgot something. Would have to be looking close enough when it comes to her arm and shoulder, as it has the same profile as if it was natural. The foot would be quite obvious though, as she's barefoot outside her armor. Would probably also see that her left hand is prosthetic as well, and if someone was really observant, could notice the slight stiffness to the motions of her cybernetic parts and the subtle limp in her left leg.