Andreyich

The Division | Mao Mao & Andreyich

PENNSYLVANIA PLAZA // JAMES FARLEY POST OFFICE

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As they went further through the building the fact the people who had shot the police officers found it necessary to go for the head like the first ones the Agents had seen, Badger at least felt a little more confident for it might suggest they lacked long-rifles to penetrate the body armour of the Agents. Of course that was probably wishful thinking and whoever had done this massacre was probably just either A) saving bullets or B) making absolute sure that their opponents were dead. The former of the two options meant that the stinginess of the opponent could be levered against them, whilst the latter would insure that if one of the Agents got taken out of action then they wouldn't recover, for this foe would make sure to execute them as they had the now dead men at their feet.

---

Badger stood impassively as Firefly spoke, nodding to his counterpart as he finished. To him it seemed that the man was speaking this warning as much for himself as for Don who knew he didn't really need it. He was well aware he was a cold utilitarian bastard; the only thing he would consider offering the souls that would be there might be a bullet of mercy, but even that was likely out of the question given that with all the factories closed down the ammunition the agents had was to be rationed.

They went through the scene, and though it was a harsh sight the Agent calmly did his duty looking side to side making sure no threats were hidden between the pictures of misery. Eventually they made it to the elevator, Don frankly quite surprised it was still operational given the state of disrepair of everything else. In fact, he was rather suspicious. "Weird that the elevator's working, when everything else is so fucked." Of course given the security room was still functional it wasn't that much a surprise, but still something to think about.

When the topic of the men being sent here was broached, something like a smile finally went on Badger's lips. "From how it sounded I was certain the answer is 'C: All of the above.' even as they were briefing us. They simply couldn't know exactly what is going on here, but they likely guessed its a rat-trap with ninety-nine percent efficiency, money back guaranteed. Chances one of us are going to be part of a mortality statistic are pretty high I think, but I don't think that's the fault of the pricks that sent us here. Look around, there's no more coffee runs to be done, everything is a suicide mission, and amongst them this isn't that bad. I think a bullet to the brains is nicer than having some dipshit use a baseball bat to turn my ribs into aspic."

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War Never Changes 2 : A Post Nuclear Nation Roleplay

Denver Reclamation Force Squad Thaddeus

Thuck. Thuck. Thuck.

The axe finally broke through the barricade, the glare of flashlights immediately following through the opening. They didn't reveal much beyond old bones.

"Nothing." the voice rang out, the combined task force relaxing. A Frumentarius kicked a skeleton, ancient parts of which turned to dust. The search of Denver's ruin's had been fruitless thus far, and leadership was getting angry.

Of course, fruitless was a comparative term. Thousands of crates of medicine, preserved foods, munitions, electronics and other valuables had been secured, but that was not what the Governor wanted and that was who could order their deaths with a lazy flick of his fingers. What he described was… well, to some of the men present with more tribal backgrounds it was all but incomprehensible, but the more learned warriors knew they'd know it when they saw it.

The most veteran of the Frumentarii did a few taps on his Pip-boy before giving the squad a rest, and then an order to continue. There were occasionally ghouls in these basements and sub-basements, but the few that were about were… well, the only way to describe them would be to call them mangled. It was as if something had ate their flesh, but wasn’t sufficiently famished to finish them off. A rather pathetic display was even now before the warriors as a legless torso made an admittedly fervent effort in crawling towards them. The poor thing was put out of its misery with a gladius to the skull, before the men continued.

They were getting tired both in the moment and of their greater work. It was repetitive to say the least, and yet it yielded no results that would bring them glory or at the very least save their hides. Decanus Cyril suggested the governor be informed that all the buildings were searched and his quarry was not found, but in unison the Frumentarii shot the idea down. Though in any hypothetical punishment by decimation they had a fair chance of survival owing to their favourable view by the Emperor, it was still not absolute guarantee their heads would escape wrath of the Lord.

No, they had to do this and they had to do it well. It was a harsh life down here, the main thing that they packed being water and munitions, with the abundant appearance of wandering dogs feeding them.

Another basement was entered, and flashlights were turned on. Once again they went through all the rooms they found, marking down any with something valuable in them with a pink chalk X to make it clear to following parties of Scouts they should look within for things further marked within.

“Hold.” Everyone looked to the Frumentarius who whispered, doing his bidding. He motioned for all to follow him into a room previously cleared that they closed the door to. Flashlights were turned off such that eyes could acclimatize to the dark, and soon peering through the missing doorknob all could see what the man had heard.

It was a cyberdog which was a sight not particularly rare but not common either in Denver. But it looked odd. The steel was fresh, no scars upon it and it was also so wet its fur gleamed in the gloom. The gait of the beast was odd, a limp that with every step seemed to right itself. Similarly the animal had odd spasms that happened every half second at the start of its journey through the vision of the Legionnaires, but by the end they all but stopped.

Eventually the door was opened, and looking down the soldiers could see that the thing had left a trail of an odd slime behind itself.

Cusses of confusion rang out, and slowly the trail was followed to its origins. They went deeper into a sub-basement, and then a sub-sub-basement, where they found a blast door. It was battered, a great hole preventing the blast door from being effective in its purpose. The slime-trail had continued here, and now it was illuminated by a blue light from the other side. The squad wasted no time in finding out what the hell they stumbled upon, and a combination of pickaxe, mattock, chainsaw and blowtorch swiftly dismantled the rusty barrier.

The Decanus grinned, bright lights of the place lighting up his bandana’d face so well one could see his expression behind the mask. They had found what they came for.

All for One for All! | A WHFB Adventure [APPLY]

Full Name and Aliases (if any): Hugo (Anastasius) van Zellenberg

Race: Human

Homeland: Hugo hails from The Empire of Sigmar, particularly the high quarters of a small town called Uexkull near Hochland’s capital of Hergig.

Faith: Loosely Sigmarite

Sex: Male

Appearance:
Hugo has the build of his past life as an indulgent noble albeit in a modified form. Still somewhat flabby with jowls and an impressive collection of chins he now hides some muscle under all that. His hair is a very dark red while his eyes a light brown, his skin at the Imperial average thanks to a considerable amount of days outside. The man will walk with an arrogant swagger that makes him seem taller than his true height of about 170cm. He’ll have fairly dense and minimally maintained facial hair while the hair on the top of his head will be cut short and likewise messy for to make the wearing of hats more comfortable.

Picture.

The Bait: A decadent little man Hugo was sent to the university in Nuln where he was to be tutored in all the things a noble would need from Calculus to agricultural management. However, during his studies he very much liked to partake in the sensual and depraved. From drugs to fine music to loose women he enjoyed it all, but he was not prepared for his spiral into degeneracy to eventually bring him face to face with the servants of the Prince of pleasure on the night of his graduation. He was frightened, and his rejection of the sacraments he was to receive slated him for sacrifice. The lad was lucky however, for a Witch Hunter and his party raided the establishment the very moment he was about to meet his death.

Though he escaped sacrificial blade, he was still in a place devoted to Slaanesh and from his inebriation it was clear that he was certainly adjacent to if not quite on the path to becoming one of the slain heretics. The Witch Hunter was not an over-zealous soul and knew the young nobling deserved mercy. He didn’t need another member of his retinue, but he did know of another secretive organization that fresh members of his sort and thus directed Hugo to the local chapter-house of the Black Badges.

The Catch: Hugo’s father is a self made merchant born of the streets that married a woman from a bankrupt noble family to get himself and his progeny the title of Baronet. It is thus that he was at least partially immersed in both worlds. He has the connections and education of nobility (ranging from languages like Brettonnian and Gospodar to physics of Imperial firearms) coupled with at least some experience and grit of commoners. He was taught academic fencing with weapons of finesse like rapiers and longswords but he is well versed in fighting dirty and honourlessly. Though not the best specimen that has entered the organization, he is far from the worse and his knowledge that he was only alive so long as he served the Black Badges insured he gave all of his effort into being a good Agent.

Initial Possessions: A noble’s hunting outfit, a set of chainmail from neck to toe, a steel skullcap, an outrider’s pistol, a crannequin crossbow, a rapier, and a dagger will all be seen across the man. Beyond that he travels light with naught more than a flask, stationery, a firestarting set, a sleeping bag, some rope, waterskin, and Dwarfen stonebread. The only true personal item he has is an intricate runic mechanism of starmetal that acts as compass, thermometer, and watch all at the same time; and old gift from his father. It costs more than the entirety of his otherwise plain assembly combined. It can even detect and measure the presence of magic, as well as hinting if it is borne by Chaos though how to properly do this the man has long since forgotten.

Current Possessions: Mirrored with the above.

All for One for All! | A WHFB Adventure [APPLY]

@Jb@TyrannosaursRex

All for One for All! | A WHFB Adventure [APPLY]

Einer für Alle für ein'!

Our story will follow the Black Badges, an organization made centuries ago at the behest of Magnus the Pious of the Empire of Sigmar, Teclis of Hoeth, Alexis of Kislev, and Alrik of Karaz-A-Karak in the final meeting before their parting. The Black Badges receive funding from many sources, though primarily from the Empire. Traveling the breadth of the Old World they are an apolitical force on the watch for the forces of Order to strike against the forces of Chaos, Death, and Destruction.

Characters from a wide array of background will be accepted, though they will tend to the golden mean between peasant adventurers yet to take a life and wizards capable of melting hordes of Chosen.

The most important thing I'm looking for in players is reliability. There are only a few truly successful RPs on this website and I intend for this (if it begins) to be added to that collection. If you think you might not be able to dedicate enough time to reliably post once a month then turn back now. In the past I've been too lenient with people in my RPs, something which I shall try to cut down upon. You don't need to be a super lore nerd about WHFB, but you should be acquainted at least with the very basics of the setting. The RP is advanced, I expect literacy and as much detail as you can add without degenerating into what's oft called "purple prose".

The Black Badges are a fairly secretive organization, it’s membership in total amounting to slightly more than a thousand in the entirety of the Old World. Though they receive a considerable amount of funding from the government of the Empire of Sigmar, and a non-negligible list of stipends from other major powers of the Old-World. At the same time however, there is no official position for the organization; Agents of the Black Badge found in an insurrectionist’s hideout in Akendorf of the Border Princes will find Karl Franz denying any knowledge of or relation to the poor souls when they are brought to trial.



But yet they continue in the eternal war against Chaos, Death, and Destruction. Unthanked, spending nights cold and wet, risking their lives they work for the greater good of all.

This RP will be set in a variation upon the WHFB universe where we follow an alt history. The End Times are still according to some on the horizon, but they’re delayed compared to official canon. In a sense we will be following the events of a hypothetical campaign of Total War: Warhammer. There will be a fair amount of realism; if you whack someone right in their breastplate with a sword don't expect much more than them getting a faint push. Don't expect to spend days waiting in ambush without rations to keep you upright, etc. etc.At the same time I won't be obnoxiously anal about stuff, i.e. you won't have to frightened from losing a limb to gangrene just because a pellet of buckshot grazed your thigh.

This RP will be in many ways treated like an RPG game. There will be a “hub-world” in a sense, our carriage.

This we will use to travel (at least for the party members not currently in possession of their own mount) between assignments and often during them, we will carry supplies in this, equipment for both individual party members and that which is shared between all. As time improves we might start furnishing it with things to make our lives easier; perhaps an extra horse to go faster, or barding for the horses such that in an ambush they might survive. Maybe a small swivel gun for defence, or a stonewheel to help maintain weapons, things of the sort. Perhaps if we gain the budget another cart may even be purchased once the first gets too crowded with embellishments.

Player characters themselves will of course see growth. Their experiences will inevitably harden and improve them, they will bring new knowledge and with reimbursements both monetary and otherwise they will be able to improve their arms and armour to a considerable degree.

For discussion, questions, comments, concerns, please join the discord.

With these things kept in mind, the format of the CS can be found below, and an example CS found using my primary character in the CS tab. This character sheet is much smaller than what you might see in a good deal of RPs because I like to operate under the motto of show, don't tell. I will generally trust anyone I accept into this to not have some bullshit up their sleeve, and tell the full extent of their backstory, their personality, etc. through the process of RP. IF my players are planning on a character that toes the line I will likely ask them for a vague biography of their fella but in general the above applies.

CS Template

[b]Full Name and Aliases (if any):[/b] what it says on the tin can. If for whatever reason you don’t want the party to know the real one, PM/DM me.

[b]Race:[/b] The only ones I will likely consider are human, Dwarf, and Elf. 
Of course we know of Genevieve and other “good” vampires, and halflings do exist, and many many more, but I’m very skeptical about these and if you want a character in these I suggest you PM/DM me and we talk it over.
Regardless of if your idea when you pitch it to me is sound, it’ll also have to be eventually accompanied by a truly exceptional CS; luckily that won’t be hard. 

[b]Homeland:[/b] Just your race doesn’t tell very much about you. 
I want to know where you were born and raised. In general I’ll only accept for elves those of Ulthuan, and for humans those of the Empire, Brettonnia, the Border Princes, Tilea, Estalia, Kislev, and Araby. 
Of course we know of Norscans working for/with the forces of order especially if paid enough, but these are rare exceptions and likewise people from Ind/Cathay/etc. 
Likewise Wood Elves rarely venture out of their homes, so if you want one you’ll have to have a very good explanation for this and I’ll need a superb CS.

[b]Faith:[/b] What does your character believe in? 
Elaborate, i.e. if they follow a multi-theist pantheon like that of Dwarfs or the High Elves what Gods do they give praise to in particular?

[b]Sex:[/b] What is on the tin can

[b]Appearance:[/b] Likewise. Try to be detailed, add a picture if you like but no anime please.

[b]The Bait:[/b] Why was your character motivated in joining the Black Badges? Money? To save their life from execution or imprisonment? Because they simply wanted to do good for the world? Everyone has a reason. 

[b]The Catch:[/b] What is your character’s job, why exactly is your character good enough to join the Black Badges and/or receive an offer from them? 
What makes you stand out from the hundreds to hundred-thousands of people in your exact same line of work? 
Please note, Ironbreakers with full equipment, Waywatchers with full equipment, and young wizards/spellcasters are the absolute limit of what will (for now) be accepted for power-level in the party, though as time goes on more powerful characters will be taken as the party grows in size and experience. 
Grail Knights, Waystalkers, Irondrakes with full kit, a Demigryph Knight etc. are all just above the accepted power level. 
I would say the absolute lower limit would be a Veteran Freecompany member, an expert Hunstman, or simple Dwarf Clansman with a full kit.
The ideal place is something like a Greatswordsman with many years under his belt, a trollslayer, a Sea-Guard with all the furnishings.

[b]Initial Possessions:[/b] What are you bringing into your first assignment? Include everything here that you feel is needed to be noteworthy.
You don’t need to include every single colour of string you carry to mend your garments, but list everything important so you don’t end up pulling things out of your ass that you forgot earlier.

[b]Current Possessions:[/b] For now, mirrored with the above. As you purchase and obtain new equipment while shedding the old you might modify this list.

With that I’d just like the reader to consider some inspiration for this RP. As you could easily tell from the very name of the RP, story of D’Artagnan and the Three Musketeers was a great inspiration, myself having enjoyed it since I were a boy. Gotrek and Felix Vermintide were also a big ones, though we certainly won’t be playing characters on the level of badassery Gotrek had, we certainly can have a few Felixes. This RP will seek to capitalize upon every theme we can find in WHFB from some low fantasy politicking of Imperial nobles to the very high fantasy of dealing with Chaos Daemons and rogue wizards. Eventually I want to come around to everything that the Old World has to offer from the frigid colds of Kislev and Norsca to the sun-scorched undeath and cold-blooded monsters of the Southlands. I want the bronze-age antiquity of Myrmidens to at some point be seen, contrasted by the 19th century technologies of the Karaz-Ankor. With that all said, get listening to some Schandmaul and get cracking on them character sheets!

All for one for all! | A Warhammer Fantasy Int. Check

Einer für Alle für ein'!

Hey fellas, your boy Andy here coming at you with an interest check for an RP in the WHFB setting. For now this is of course just an interest check and you won't see much of whats to come, but there is already a great deal planned.

Our story will follow the Black Badges, an organization made centuries ago at the behest of Magnus the Pious of the Empire of Sigmar, Teclis of Hoeth, Alexis of Kislev, and Alrik of Karaz-A-Karak in the final meeting before their parting. The Black Badges receive funding from many sources, though primarily from the Empire. Traveling the breadth of the Old World they are an apolitical force on the watch for the forces of Order to strike against the forces of Chaos, Death, and Destruction.

Characters from a wide array of background will be accepted, though they will tend to the golden mean between peasant adventurers yet to take a life and wizards capable of melting hordes of Chosen.

The most important thing I'm looking for in players is reliability. There are only a few truly successful RPs on this website and I intend for this (if it begins) to be added to that collection. If you think you might not be able to dedicate enough time to reliably post twice a month then turn back now. In the past I've been too lenient with people in my RPs, something which I shall try to cut down upon. You don't need to be a super lore nerd about WHFB, but you should be acquainted at least with the very basics of the setting. I'd very much like the interest of three people to get an IC thread up, which will happen a little less than a week after said interest is expressed.

With that, I look forward to hearing from you no-fur manthings.

Heroes of Might and Magic: Defying the Gravekeep

Look! Gaze upon how he crawls through the body that used to be yours....

He sees.

He knows.

He lies....

It would now come to be clear that the two voices going through the boy's head were entirely different ones, the one of the strange Knight seemingly unaware of the whispered one.

As Brandon replied to the mystical man he laughed. Even though he was in the mind of the Lordling he somehow managed to very acutely get across the texture and timbre of the sound of a great amount of phlegm in the laughing throat — a throat that wasn't actually there.

"A threat! No not quite, not blackmail either but close to both. Its not for me I hope. If you don't listen to me you'll only make things harder for the world boy, not to speak of for yourself. What are you going to do dripping in your own blood and the complexion of a snowman? Politely tell dad that you're the same boy he loved and it'll all be okay? But no, I lie. I would hate to be stuck in this helmet for decades more until the right bugger walks by and hefts it on."

A noise emanated from the depths of the boy's consciousness that sounded like a hacking cough.

"I'll answer your questions while we ride, and if there's nothing more urgent to discuss. Better not try to ask me the meaning of life or what is love, though, or so help me I will use all the energies of this body for bale fire to roast your arsecheeks until you're a cinder or a puddle of goop, depending on your humours."

As the boy maanged to properly control the horse and the undead minions there was a sense of approval, almost as if there was a nod at Brandon neatly fitting into new abilities.

"No, I cannot hear your thoughts. Not quite yet, anyway. I can feel you thinking, I see the juices wriggling through your brain though it no longer needs them. I am still learning this body, and once I know its every pore and artery I will be able to see your thoughts. If it so happens you need to speak to me while keeping quiet you may simply mouth your words; I will fill in the sound for myself."

Then came a pause of several minutes as the being contemplated the answer to the young Unicorn's latest question. Indeed Brandon might speak in the intermediate time before the response came but would hear nothing until the fellow was ready.

"You may call me Lord. If that is too much for your sensibilities you may call me Sir Dietrich. Now then, where are we going exactly?"

Is forum Roleplaying beginning to slow down?

As someone born in the 1960’s, I think my generation wrote more. I think we read more too. Now it is more Audiobooks and video clips. The attention span of young people has decreased.

I watch my kids and they have a hard time sitting and reading a book at 13. At that age I would have read 3-4 books. It is change and an exciting new challenge.

@Meleck

Ok boomer

Warhammer 40k: Sons of Titan - A Grey Knights RP

Crashing into the next group of gunners it was only a few spins before they were a pile of dismembered bits. With that the remaining resistance in this part of the open street was rather thin, the few fighters remaining having mere flimsy iron weapons and an occasional stub weapon that wouldn’t even penetrate a Space Marine’s black carapace, let alone their power armour. However, though the enemy here was sparse Olympio knew he was alone and isolated here, and to try fight on solo was an exercise in baseless arrogance; easily a trait let swell by the prince of pleasure’s magics.

Closing the distance to once more return to the comfortable embrace of his Brother’s psychic aura was easy, only a few leaps crossing a great many metres until they were in his sight. As he moved in the message of Bieito came through the vox. Truth be told he was somewhat underwhelmed by the usage of vox instead of telepathic communication. The majority of Grey Knights had at least enough of the aptitude to communicate at the very least with their own squad using their Justicar as a means to help relay the information if needed.

“Noted.” he replied using his mind. The presence of daemons was certainly ominous. It seemed to redeem his foretellings, but that was nothing to be happy about given what it implied. “I am coming to reinforce.” he continued, stomping over. Though grouped up they would be far more vulnerable to heavy weapons of all sorts, it seemed for now the greater part of the eternal enemy’s rabble was culled and their firepower would now be all but negligible. Daemons would now be the main quarry if the report of Bieito was correct and in such a case a tight formation of blades would be optimal rather than the loose slaughter they had previously enacted.

Flourishing his sword, he for now kept between the Justicar and Bieito ready to support - or if needed fall back to - either of his comrades should the enemy try to strike them down one by one.

Checking his heads-up-display to correct his path, he started his march towards the destination of the squad. He had no interest in killing that which later the PDF could clean up when there was a foe more urgent to deal with, thus seeing no purpose in increasing his current kill-tally. For Brother Olympio there was only the objective, and he hoped that his Brothers would join him with haste.

War Never Changes 2 : A Post Nuclear Nation Roleplay

Flavius Valerius Pontificus Augustus Maximus Vulpes Inculta Constantine Invictus Caesar

The Emperor was tired, and was thus walking towards his tent to rest. At many points he was offered the chance to sleep in an air-conditioned building or RV, but he declined all offers preferring the same rolled up canvas of his early service to the Legion.

There was a feint smile upon his face, that brought on by a productive day. The tendrils of the Frumentarii were spreading ever further and the homefront was getting ever more secure. The next day would be fruitful, and the night would be peaceful. Except, it wouldn’t for now. As Vulpes Inculta walked along with a few Praetorians about him his walk was interrupted by the approach of the governor of Colorado.

Vulpes sighed, knowing it was far too late to try to walk around the fellow. Frequently he had to make (admittedly idle) threats to the man for overstepping his bounds, but he was too useful of a man with his little charts and agendas in running his territory. Forcing himself not to sigh, Vulpes nodded to the man. “What is it, Lord Colorado.”

“Ah, my Beloved Emperor, how fortunate it is I came upon you.” the man said, in spite of fortune having played no part in this.

“What is it, Lord?” Vulpes asked impatiently.

“Denver my Lord. I really do think we should revisit the topic.”

“We have gone over this. Unless you have something new to add to the discussion the topic ends in the same way.” Vulpes walked on expecting the man to have nothing of the sort, but he was wrong.

“As a matter of fact my dear Emperor, I do. The cyberdogs? We’ve discovered their source.”

“Elaborate.” Vulpes demanded.

“I’ve ordered all the Frumentarii under my command to scour the city, and though many are now food for the feral hounds they found the sub-basement of a factory in the city to still be operational. How? They cannot determine, but whole batches of cybernetic dogs are released from there daily with no sign of ceasing or stagnation. They are more faster and stronger than ordinary mongrels we breed, they are more durable and are far more efficient with their feed. Where a spear would pierce it’s skull it would be blunted by hardened plastics, where a bullet would burst its innards it may well bounce off of steel. I understand in coming wars against the NCR and other advanced adversaries you wish to retire the use of these dogs. But think of how they may come to be brought upon tribals? But a pack of them would tear through whole villages in our way; indeed, many would have their valour crushed to simply see these monstrosities. Further, given we no longer need the ordinary hounds with our future use of the cyberdogs we will be able to freely use the ferals to feed our troops while they clean out the immediate area and bring the city to life.

“Why do we need the entire city then, Lord? Insofar as I can see we only need the one facility.” For all his capabilities as an administrator Lord Colorado was almost childishly jealous of the other States, and wanted a true capital for his territory.

“Because! If there is a facility operational from before the war in the sub-basement of that factory then what might other sub-basements harbour?”

“We both know that the factory working is a statistical improbability, I can all but guarantee you will not find more working factories yet automated.”

“Of course not my Lord, I have tempered my expectations!”

Doubtful, Vulpes thought, but he let the man finish his thought.

“Of course we won’t find working factories. But consider this, the sub-basements of the area seem well deep enough to not have been so viciously damaged by the ravages of the bombs and the local population of dogs - combined with the radiation of the area - have kept the area clean of scavengers and prospectors ever since nuclear hellfire scoured the Americas. Firearms, electronics, packaged foods, medicine, supplies of all sorts. It is a veritable treasure trove my lord, and if we can restart the production of the cyberdogs we can use them against their feral kind to clean out the city to pick it clean of what it has. Many buildings are in very good shape still and can later be repurposed for purpose ranging from industry to administration and clerical work.”

The desire of the Lord to have a true city under his domain was nauseating. However, his earlier points were at the very least fairly convincing in regards to sending an expedition to the locale. Though he probably shouldn’t have made such a decision at this time and under such conditions, he really was rather eager to get this over with. “Centurion Allarus is under your command. We will discuss the matter further in the morning, dismissed.”

---

Operating Squad "Venus"

---

Click

A song started to play on the radio, and it was a fairly nice one. The Frumentarius removed the holotape before placing it in his pip-boy to let the piece start from the top. It really was groovy, even if his active-headset was inverting the noises somewhat.

“Found something, Sir?”

“Just a nice holotape.”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

The Frumentarii exchanged laughter. The Poseidon building had been unfruitful, prospectors long since having picked anything immediately useful from it and they couldn’t find anything relating to Petro Chico as desired. But you know, the holotape made the time feel well spent nevertheless.

They had been up North for quite some time now, about a month ago having left the last areas where the Legion exercised formal control.

Ultimately their aim was to find a band of 80s appropriate to groom into leaders of the greater tribe such that a great force against the NCR may be formed. Alas, it seemed for the moment that they could not find any. Drunkards resting on their laurels were the best they came upon so far, and to be honest the leader of the Frumentarii group was rather disappointed. Perikles was starting to think that they were on a wild goose chase, to be frank. Of course it would be some time before he’d be ready to voice this to his Emperor in comminiques, but nevertheless it was at the forefront of his mind.

After a short lunch the Frumentarii packed up their gear and went towards the exit of the building they were in, until one whistled, making a motion for his comrades to follow to the window he was at. Smoke was being belched in the distance, and soon the sound of a great motor followed. It was a column of bikers moving very, very fast.

“These ones we haven’t seen.”

“Yeah, markings are different. Similar, but not identical.”

“Should we follow them.”

“Yes. Hurry.”

“Copy that.”