Prizrak

War Never Changes

Rough Rider’s, New Vegas- Nevada


At the abrupt sight of Shelby undressing the woman bit the corner of her lip as it began to quiver. Feeling the urge for something she knew she had to avoid she began to fumble for another cigarette. Once she managed to retrieve one she stood up from her seat while lighting it. At this point sweat was starting to bead on her body, so she carefully removed her blazer while she holding her cigarette in her mouth and mumbled a response to Shelby. “I hope you don’t mind I’m starting to sweat in this thing. I'm not usually one for suits.” Realizing that she broke character the woman laid her blazer down on the chair she was sitting in and moved over to Shelby's bed, in an attempt to hide her lack of composure from her.

As she sat down along the side of the bed with her upper body hunched over her legs. Her hands were trembling as she ran her fingers through her greasy hair, between each puff of acrid smoke she shook ever so slightly as she rushed to compose herself.

“Ms. Jackson I assure you that we’ve nothing to gain...from offending you or your Empress.” She took another long draw from her cigarette and took a brief moment to try and calm herself, as it was becoming apparent that she was getting anxious. “I’m…”

Unable to continue her sentence as the saliva evaporated from her mouth and her voice cracked, she got up and headed to the suites mini-bar to retrieve a bottle of water. Inside the bar was a vast assortment of beverages, including alcohol and in her addled state she could feel the temptation to grab a bottle alcohol and drown her anxiety. Thankfully part of her mind was still fighting her urge and she quickly snapped out of it and grabbed a frigid bottle of water. At this point in time she was starting to look as if she was loosing her composure. Her nicely tucked button up shirt was starting to untuck itself causing the fabric to billow off of her body except for the spots that were starting to stick from the sweat. Her suspenders were unfastened and found themselves dangling past her waist. Her tie was buried underneath her blazer, at least she thought that's where she left it. Even her nicely slicked hair was coming undone. While it was still tied up in a bun her bangs were starting to fall onto her forehead and the nice precision rows of hair were disrupted by her fingers raking through them.

Even while she drained the bottle of water down her arid throat, she couldn’t find the relief she sought. It felt as if there was a thin layer of mucus lining her throat that prevented it from becoming moist again. Sitting back down, this time alongside the bed with her legs spread apart and her knees raised. She retrieved a small device from her pocket, it was no larger than a pen and could be mistaken for one to the untrained eye. On the end was a raised silver button that when pressed receded into the main cylinder, blinked red twice and then went dark. She put the object back into her pocket and wiped the unstinting sweat from her brow, and unbuttoned the first few layers of her shirt. Exposing her chest to be as drenched as her forehead.

“Oh shit, I didn’t think this was going to happen to me again.” Whispering to herself she focused her eyes on the worn carpet of the suite trying to focus on something else and distract her mind. Still sweating she unbuttoned the cuffs of her shirt and rolled her sleeves up. Unable to seek asylum in her own mind she lit another cigarette. With each puff off the acrid smoke she felt both better and worse. As if part of her thrived from it and the other was destroyed by it. Regardless she began to mumble through the cigarette again. “My people should be here in a few hours Ms. Jackson. I apologize for the delay in their arrival but even a small group of armed guards is going to have some difficulties entering the Strip. I assure you that they'll find a way, they always do.” She had slightly composed herself but she was still trembling and her throat was as arid as the Mojave still making it hard for her to speak. "In the meantime. What do you request of me?"

War Never Changes

Rough Riders- New Vegas, Nevada

“Let me be very clear with you Ms. Jackson. You’re an intelligent woman so I expect you to understand the gravity of the situation.” The agent declined the offer of wine and instead retrieved a pack of cigarettes from her waistband, upon lighting one the acrid smell began to fill the room. “I hope you don’t mind. I don’t drink, and I only occasionally indulge myself with the sinful delight of a cigarette.” She shuddered slightly as drew a long puff on the cigarette as if she’d been longing for it for quite awhile. Although she acted proper, something did seem to be off about her, but it was hard to pinpoint what that was. She was quite the character. She was cold and professional for sure and seemed quite knowledgable about the world around her but one couldn’t help but feel like she was hiding something, like all of this was a show.

“I’m sorry Ms. Jackson. I didn’t mean to get distracted from the task at hand.” Quickly composing herself she laid the cigarette down in a nearby ashtray and continued as if nothing was out of place. “You’ll needn’t have to concern yourself with Robert House. Have Calypso contact him and request a change of accommodations if she would like. But one thing I would wholeheartedly suggest is a personal security detail. You came here for peace and diplomacy, for that you’ve earned a great bit of respect from myself and the outfit I represent. Although I hate to admit that war and violence is at all of our doorsteps, and you’ll want to make sure you have the right people standing with you when it comes to yours. Like I said for now my services are free, and will continue to be until you return to your home. If you and Calypso would like I can have a security detail here within the hour. All I need is your approval, nothing more.” The woman finished with speaking for the moment then reached for her still smoldering cigarette and pressed it against her lips taking another intense draw before returning it back to the ashtray.

War Never Changes

Rough Riders- New Vegas, Nevada


Shelby was understandably startled upon discovering that she had an uninvited guest in her suite. After all she had every reason to believe that the NCR would want her “dealt with” after the incident at the Tops, but that wasn’t the case here in fact it was quite the opposite. The woman sitting in Shelby’s suite, legs crossed with no concern for the fact that Shelby was readying herself for another adjusted her posture and interjected Shelby’s preparations with a cold methodical voice.

“Ms. Jackson I’ve not come to waste my time fighting you. I’m here to extend an offer of my services to you and your dearest Empress Calypso.” Without waiting for Shelby to respond the woman continued. “I would recommend that you beseech Robert House for a room change and an upgrade to your security. If he doesn’t want anymore blood to be spilt under his supervision he’ll listen.”

There was a break in her speech so Shelby interjected even though she was still clearly trying to compose herself. “First of all who the hell are you, and how do you know my name!?”

“Easy Ms. Jackson. No matter how obscure or foreign you may think yourself to be, you leave a trace, just like everyone else. Transportation records, people you’ve talked to, guest lists. All I had to do was talk to the right people, but let's not concern ourselves with that right now. Our real concern is that I found you so quickly. I work primarily on my own with a very small circle of confidential assets and I knew where you would be before you left the Great Lakes, and you’re making much more powerful enemies here. Imagine what they can do to you.”

“You still didn’t tell me who you were. Are you just going to gloss over that part?” Shelby was still rather frustrated, such was her nature.

“Yes actually. I am. Who I am is not important. What I can do for you however, makes all the difference in the world.”

“Ya I get it you don’t have to keep telling. You know you’re creepy as hell. Sneaking in here and skulking in the corner. You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you after the day I’ve been having. But here’s an idea for you. How are you going to help me when that House prick has me on room arrest!?”

Ignoring Shelby’s agitation the woman continued with the same level of professionalism she had when she started. It was almost as if she was completely unaffected by the emotional distress of those around her. “You’re resourceful enough to keep yourself alive for the most part. I’d still recommend attaching my own security detail to you and especially Calypso. We’ve both landed in quite the mess here, the threat of an attack is higher now than it’s ever been and I don’t put much faith in the competency of Robert House’s security. Now I’ve been instructed by my handler to provide you my services for the duration of this summit, but if you wish to delve further into the options available to you, here’s our card.

War Never Changes

Rough Rider’s - Nevada, New Vegas


A whirlwind of dust and debris choked the air making visibility difficult for a brief moment until the sharp repetitive whir of the old vertibirds engines started to fade into the desert as it began its ascent, remaining low to the ground as it flew out of sight into the distance. When the dust had faded the landing zone was barren, with the coarse soil of the Mojave being the only thing disturbed by the vertibirds arrival and departure. Appearances can be very deceptive however, for only a few feet away a small group of broken silhouettes figures laid concealed in a shallow wadi.

Once the sound of the vertibirds engines were reduced to a pulsating thump far off into the horizon one of the figures slowly knelt up against the slope of the wadi making sure to minimize their silhouette. With the noise of the vertibird nearly out of range the desert around them was reduced to a serene silence, only to be broken by the very faint shuffling of gear as the rest of the figures rose up from the wadi showing the same care for their discretion as their colleague who rose before them. Now if one was perceptive enough they would barely make out the silhouettes of 4 or 5 people maybe even more, as even the most trained eye could easily lose their silhouettes or be deceived by the arid scrub surrounding them.

Though just as they appeared along the edge of the wadi they disappeared back within its arid banks. Concealed once more the group moved like phantoms along the dusty, bone dry passage. There was a precision to be had in their movements that in and of themselves showed the professionalism and apparent camaraderie possessed by this small group. They did not speak with each other but yet they all appeared to be aware of their destination, and even when the head of the group would make an abrupt turn down an unexpected vein of the wadi the others followed with pinpoint precision, as if every rock, bend, and slope was expected and methodically planned for. Eventually after a few minutes the group stopped as the leader rose their right arm out and in the shape of an L and clasped their open hand into a fist, signalling the group to halt. With this order the group naturally fell into a loose defensive perimeter along the banks of the wadi, scanning the area for potential threats.

From their defensive positions one of the figures, a young woman stripped down from her khaki flight suit and tactical gear and into her underwear. She then removed a slim fitting black suit with a white dress shirt and a scarlet red tie. She had no weapons on her at all once she changed, the only thing she carried with her were documents essential for her entry, an identification card that identified her as a member of the NCR Presidential security detail, and a small pack of “business” cards in her bra strap. Ready to begin the mission she was brought here for the woman headed down into the desert towards the strip. She wasn’t going to wait for an order or direction, she was above the people she was sent here with. They were only along for the ride, she was the real show.

After a few minutes of travelling she was close to the Strip’s gate. As per usual a pair of securitrons were standing watch and checking for passes. She readied her pass from her breast pocket in her blazer and handed it to one of the securitrons. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary she was allowed through without incident, as was to be expected. The person that sent her invested a lot of money into this operation for it all to fail over something so basic. Once inside the glistening streets of the New Vegas Strip the woman headed towards her first target, the Tops casino and the venue Mr. House chose to host his meeting of the powers. With a distinct goal in mind the woman headed down the strip. Not at all being distracted by the glitz and glamor of the many hotels and casinos that made up the strip, after all she was a professional. None of these things interested her, she came here to complete a mission not to indulge herself in the luxuries provided in these glistening palaces.

It wasn’t long until she was at the entrance to the Tops and by the looks of things she was right on time. From the amount of guards outside of the building it was clear that the meeting was still taking place inside. When she approached the door to enter she was stopped by a pair of armed guards who informed her that the Tops wasn’t open to the general public for security concerns and if she wanted to enter then they would need to see some I.D. Of course she was happy to oblige them, she reached into her breast pocket once more and pulled out her I.D allowing the guards to inspect it.

“Sharon Cross, NCR Military, Presidential Security Detail. You’re a hotshot aren’t you? Well We’re going to have to verify this I.D with our superior.” Strictly following procedure as was expected of them, the guard with her I.D started to radio in to his superior when she stopped him.

“Come on guys I get that you’re doing your job but I need to get in there so I can do mine. If you want to pat me down, strip search me. Do whatever you want. I can guarantee you that I’m not a threat, but I can’t guarantee that you guys didn’t let one in already and if President Kimball gets injured or killed then all of our heads are going to roll.” She laid on the charm just enough to let the guards get comfortable. She knew how to get at people and these guards were no different.

“So are you saying we don’t know how to do our jobs?” As anticipated the guards got upset and turned their attention away from verifying the woman's I.D and instead chose to confront her for a slight they felt she committed against them.

“Hey that’s not what I’m saying at all. All I’m trying to say is that we all have a job to do. You guys bust your balls out here in this blistering heat and I appreciate that. Without you guys out here my job would be twice as hard, now I just need you to let me in before my job gets even harder. Now like I said you can search me all you want. I’m not a threat.”

Figuring why the hell not the other guard agreed to search her, he did get a bit overzealous with the searching but like she said they didn’t find anything besides paperwork that did more to strengthen her case than erode it. “You don’t carry a gun?” They weren’t wrong she didn’t have a weapon on her.
“I don’t need one.” Unfazed by the guards gropping she reassumed her calm professional tone.

“Really? You’re either really crazy or really stupid.”

“Who says I can’t be both. Afterall I’ve got to know what I’m doing to keep this job. Now are we good here?” She readjusted her tie and straightened out her blazer as if she already knew the answer and sure enough they let her through. On her way in she jokingly remarked to the guards. “Don’t worry if anything happens I’ll try to save something for you.”

Despite the slow down at the gate she seemed to have been arriving at just the right time. Two of the delegates including her supposed charge were engaged in a fight. Using the chaos and confusion of the situation to her advantage she maneuvered effortlessly through the crowd towards one of her targets. Thankfully the Legion delegate was still inside and his guards were trying to make sense of the chaos. This allowed her to remove a business card from her bra strap and with a well honed slight of hand place it on the guard without him noticing before mixing back into the crowd and towards the door. On her way out she spotted her other target, the delegates from the Jade Empire but they were in the heart of the altercation. Getting close to them would be too risky, that and her friends from outside were coming in to deal with the commotion so it was time for her to move.

Slipping effortlessly through the doors of the Tops and back outside onto the Strip she headed towards the den of vice itself the Gomorrah. She’d done her homework beforehand and knew that Shelby the woman that was currently assaulting the President of the NCR and the close second to the Jaded Empress herself was staying at the Gomorrah in suite 253. From this point on everything should go as expected. Security at the Gomorrah was light and any guards that stopped her were not going to be nearly as motivated to hassle her as the two stooges outside the Tops. She was right the guards at the Gomorrah didn’t even check her I.D. They just checked her for weapons and from that point on she moved unobstructed to suite 253, and before she knew it she was picking the lock on the door and heading inside. She sat down in one of the luxurious chairs in the suite making sure her back was protected and she could see the entrance clearly. The position she ended up in was dimly lit as the lights were not all on and while she waited she retrieved another business card from her bra strap in preparation of Shelby's arrival. On the card it read;

*No Reasonable Offers Refused*
(Anytime, Anywhere)

Rough Riders
2ND PLT, DCO 1st Phantoms
“When you care enough to send the best.”

Contact us at this frequency 2425
Daily: 1800-0600

War Never Changes

Here's my sheet. Finally! lol

Rough Riders

Name: The Rough Riders

Flag:

Battle Flag and Motto:

Territory and Geography: The Rough Riders operate all across the southwestern United States and have been known to operate in the mid-west as well. Their main headquarters is the back country and rolling hills of the southwest, due to their reputation with the NCR they tend to keep themselves spread out and are highly mobile. Although it’s common knowledge that if they’re services are needed they can be found in any bar from California to Oklahoma.

History: Founded in 2271 immediately following the signing of the Ranger Unification Treaty between the NCR and the Desert Rangers, by a deserted NCR Veteran Ranger Captain Lori Holden. Lori had served her entire adult life in the NCR and was a well renowned soldier who commanded a lot of respect from the Rangers she served with, but she was also very critical of the NCR. She didn’t like how poorly the NCR policed their land, to her there were too many raider attacks inside lands that were supposed to be protected. So when the treaty was signed that led to the Desert Rangers being disbanded. Lori felt like there was no correcting the course the NCR was taking. So she left, and when she did leave she took a lot of Desert Rangers, and NCR soldiers with her, as well as a few stolen NCR supplies and horses.

From this point on they called themselves the Rough Riders their main focus was to police the NCR’s territory for them. Protecting settlements and caravans for a price, much to the disdain of the NCR government. Lori and her gang had wanted posters all around NCR territory for years. She was their most wanted criminal. She was wanted for theft, murder, desertion, forgery, nearly any crime they could pin on her they could and most of them stuck. It took years until the NCR could catch up to them in 2279, but when they did it was a bloodbath. A small group of Rough Riders led by Lori had just collected payment for a caravan protection job when they took fire from a group of NCR Rangers. Lori was instantly killed by multiple gunshot wounds but her comrades returned fire for 17 hours until the NCR Rangers called in reinforcements and finished of the Riders. Lori’s body was never recovered by her comrades as it was taken by the NCR as proof of her death, and as a blow to Rider morale.

In the days following Lori’s death her daughter Lara took command of the Rough Riders and changed their whole demeanor towards the NCR. It was war from this point on, any NCR patrols that proved to be easy targets where ambushed and slaughtered. Supply bases were regulary raided all across NCR territory, but as soon as the NCR tried to field a response the attackers were gone and it could be months until they struck again. Although Lara didn’t lose her mother’s original vision. She still protected settlements both inside and out of NCR territory and would routinely dispatch riders to help anyone that requested their assistance. So while they fought a guerrilla war with the NCR they were winning over the hearts and minds of the people all across the wasteland.

Population: Roughly 6,000 standing professional soldiers but between the towns that the Rough Rider’s control and the ones that support them they can field a standing militia between 8,000 to 10,000 men and women.

Government/Domestic Politics: The Rough Rider’s themselves are structured very much like the military they left behind. Rider’s follow a rather relaxed command structure. Each soldier is trained to make the best of a bad situation and operate with or without a direct command structure. Although there is one put in place, and loyalty is everything in the Rough Riders. Loyalty to the people they protect comes first. Loyalty to their comrades is second, and loyalty to themselves comes third. Lara believes that if a soldier is loyal to themselves, their comrades, and their people they’ll tear down the gates of hell in defense of them. So far that’s proved to be accurate.

Notable People:


Senior Rider Lara Holden is 26 years old and all though she’s young for her station can be quickly described by anyone who knows her as.

“One tenacious bitch!”

She’s led the Rough Riders since her mother’s death and before that she rode by her mother’s side as her most trusted officer and was often the one to relay the concerns of the soldiers to her mother. So she was a natural fit as leader after her mother was killed. During her years with the Riders she’s garnered a reputation as a hellish force on the battlefield and a fiercely loyal commander. It’s safe to say that the men and women she commands would gladly follow her into any battle no matter what the odds are.

Military: While not the largest or most advanced military presence in the wasteland the Rough Rider’s pride themselves on their ruthless training. Regardless of the background of the recruit, whether they be a civilian or a 30 year veteran of the NCR Rangers they all receive the same nightmarish training. Recruits are trained in 30 to 50 man groups, they’ll serve with this group for the entirety of their career with the Riders although they’ll be much smaller by the end of the training. On average 10 to 20 recruits either die or wash out of a training batch. As brutal as the training is it’s always succeeded in creating some of the heartiest fighters in the wasteland, and they’ve continued to be an illusive thorn in the side of the NCR for a long time because of this training.

As far as personal equipment is concerned most Riders wear stetson hats and spurs, a gift given along with their battle flag at the end of their training, besides that they’re equipment varies on their environment and task. Although bolt and lever action rifles are a preferred weapon of choice Riders are trained to operate any weapon system they can get their hands on as more often then not they’ll be operating far away from any support and will need to use what they can scavenge.

Rough Riders do not utilize tanks, or many motor vehicles for that fact. They’re primary means of transportation instead are their horses and their feet. Though the Riders do field a few vertibirds and the extremely rare plane that they use for long distance operations and V.I.P transport. Generally its safe to say that if it’s equipment that the NCR uses the Rider’s have access to it because they’ve stolen, or looted it.

Economy: The Rough Riders are soldiers of fortune at their core so their main sources of income come from mercenary contracts. Although they do receive payment and food from the towns under their protection. They also supplement their income from the sales of the equipment they loot from the battlefield, or steal from the NCR.

Culture and Technology: Rough Rider’s have a strong esprit de corps among themselves and their units as a whole which are made up of men and women from every walk of life. Life inside the Rough Riders is hard. Riders very rarely stop for too long and are constantly mobile, only stopping to rest. A unit can expect under normal circumstances to be the only Rough Riders they see for weeks on end and its this isolation as well as their group training that creates an unwavering sense of loyalty among the soldiers that make up the Riders.

While not the most technologically advanced the Rough Riders make use of what they have. Radio equipment is utilized to organize units and most riders have access to some sort of explosives that they can use to destroy entrenched positions or armored vehicles given enough grit and luck.

Religion: All religions are accepted in the Rough Riders but there is a strong focus on separation of religion and the unit. Individual soldiers are allowed to worship as they please as long as it doesn’t interfere with the mission.

War Never Changes

Rough Riders

Rough Riders
“When you care enough to send the best!”

Territory: Albany, Wyoming

Population: 200

History: War is hell, it is the most horrible side effect of humanity. No other animal on this planet wages war like humans, but yet it serves a purpose. Despite the horrors of war it forges those resolute enough to endure its atrocities. For in no other aspect of humanity is it possible to witness mankind at its absolute worst, and at its absolute best. to See the devil that resides in the heart of man, lose control to that devil yourself. Then to see the greatest side of yourself and your comrades when faced with the chaos of battle. War is a forge that turns men's hearts into iron. Forces them to learn about themselves. It forces them to witness the evil things they’re able to commit, even if they themselves deny its existence.

The Rough Riders were forged in this chaos. Having served in the NCR for decades their founding members lost hope in their government. They grew tired of sacrificing so much, for so little. So they abandoned the NCR and were branded as deserters, enemies of the state. After all how could the NCR’s best betray it? These men and women served with such distinction, such passion for battle. But it all grew to be for nothing, the friends that had died were swallowed in the machine of bureaucracy never to be seen again. The blood they had spilled was rewarded in hollow ceremony by men who had long since lost the fire for battle. It was a sudden and violent realization that they had been fooled. They were not heroes to be celebrated, they were pawns of the state. Being manipulated against their will to do what the government wanted.

So when these men and women abandoned their life of service with the NCR they took their knowledge and skill with them and for once put it all in their absolute control. They became soldiers of fortune, offering their expertise to the highest bidder. For once in their lives they were finally in control of their destiny.

Government/Domestic Politics: Brothers and sisters, that is the government. A family of warriors where everyone knows each other, and has suffered alongside one another. There is no political structure, no presidents or senators. Only warriors, even their leader fights in the savage mire of war alongside her soldiers. She does not see herself as the Rough Riders leader but she is the banner that many of the people rally behind. Her name brings both fear and admiration to the men and women that serve alongside her, and it is because of her that they set aside their difference and their motivations. She is the iron that sharpens iron, and without her the spirit of battle within her men would eventually fade and being wisped away in the winds of time.

Notable People:

Charlotte “The Boss” Weaver, 26 years old, 5’ 11”, 148 lbs; While young for her station as the leader of the Rough Riders she was their founder. Her comrades and peers followed her out of the NCR fully aware of the risk in doing so. She has a mind and body that has been broken and rebuilt stronger than before through years of military service. From her experiences in the NCR, and the battles she’s fought in she has become the greatest version of herself. It is common knowledge that she is well respected among the members of the Rough Riders, and very few express their disdain for her station openly if at all. To many she is the perfect leader. She empathizes with her men because she has lived through the horrors they witness, she actively fights and trains with them. Sharing her skills with them in order to make them the best soldiers they can possibly be.

Military: Being a mercenary company every member of the Rough Riders is a soldier. They’ve experienced rigorous training just to become a member. They’re equipped with the best equipment that they can get their hands on but their leadership does not allow a reliance on technology. They maintain enough of a technological edge to remain competitive but all of their soldiers are drilled extensively on the basics of combat.

Soldiers of the Rough Riders are experts in many particular aspects of warfare including. Infiltration, assassination, asymmetrical warfare, counter insurgency operations, guerrilla warfare, search and destroy missions, as well as asset recovery and protection. All of these things are aimed at making them more specialized and useful to potential clients. They’re not just hired guns used to supplement an existing military. They are a precision instrument of warfare that you hire when you have zero margin for error.

Economy: Since they are financially sustained off of their contracts, for which they accept ammunition, caps, gold, and technology as payment. The Rough Riders are driven to the best they possibly can be, if they can not perform at the standards set for them then they can not survive. Success is key in every aspect of their society and failure is only an option if you learn from it and overcome.

Culture and Technology: There is a very strong sense of community among the Rough Riders and that’s one of the main reasons why military veterans are drawn to them. For those that miss the brotherhood, camaraderie, and sense of purpose that the military gave them the Rough Riders are a perfect fit. Through the experience of training and fighting alongside their brothers and sisters, including “The Boss.” Soldiers serving in the Rough Riders are fiercely loyal, dedicated to bettering themselves and their unit, and committed to being the best they can be in every aspect of their career. For anyone that can not give at least 100% of themselves to the unit simply can not survive in it’s environment.

Technologically the Rough Riders are not winning any awards. They have access to a few rare and advanced pieces of tech including in house modified fatigues designed especially for the environments that the average Rough Rider will find themselves in. There are also a few pairs of thermal and night vision goggles acquired from raids against the NCR and prewar military stores. They also have access to vertibirds and military trucks for the transportation of personnel and supplies over long distances but they mainly travel on horseback.

Religion: Having no official or sanctioned religion members are free to worship what they please as long as it does not affect their ability to perform on the battlefield. Although some members of the Rough Riders have a very strange reverence for their leader. Some see her as a mother figure, others as something more than that. So far Charlotte is alright with how her men see her but only because it keeps them loyal.

Firewatch: The Multi-User Novel

<Snipped quote by Prizrak>

If you can continue writing as much and as well with your new character as you currently are with Lori, and can involve them as much and as thoroughly as you're doing with Lori, then continue with the character. Having 4 characters is not in any way a drawback though, and if we stay as 4 characters then that may work out better.

@The Scotsman

I'm not 100% sure yet. I know it wouldn't effect my output any but seeing as how I'm working on establishing the lore and plot for another RP I think it would be best if I didn't stretch myself too thin.

Firewatch: The Multi-User Novel

Good to here, @Prizrak! It not a requirement, I just thought we all might enjoy it were there more options, but seeing as these last few posts have went after mixing in other writers, it may be a good thing that we're going to be running smaller than anticipated.

@The Scotsman

So don't add another character? Not that it would bother me either way just making sure whether or not I should finish the character sheet or not.

Firewatch: The Multi-User Novel

Hey guys I'm still here just being hanging low for a little bit. Do we need another character to fill out the roster or are we good with 4? The only reason I ask is because I'm willing to run two characters.

Anyway how is everyone doing?

Firewatch: The Multi-User Novel

@Graviloquence Great post, nice to see that it was worth the wait.

@The Scotsman I'm probably going to wait for Jim to post before I post as Lori. But if anyone wants to involve Lori in anyway let me know I would be more than happy to do a collab post. I just don't feel like she warrants another major post until everyone else has their fill.