"Flagstaff Aftermath"

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    Warchief Grimm
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    "Flagstaff Aftermath"

    Post by Warchief Grimm on Sun Jan 08, 2017 10:00 pm

    Previously on Wasteland Tales of Lore

    (STILL IN EDIT PHASE.)

    It started off so simple, clear out the troublemakers in The Gold Rush Casino. At least that's what Captain Colt Flintlock kept telling herself after stumbling across the bachelor Party for Captain Hotshot of The Dukes of the Nuke.

    Hotshot and her mercenaries surrounded the stage in the private lounge all laughing and cheering at their entertainment.  Hogwild, one of the Dukes MP's was firing his gun at the stage near the entertainers feet who stood dancing along to the sounds of "Luck be a lady." by Frank Sinatra. That night's entertainment was 516 of the JMC, who stood before them trying to dance in chains.  Flintlock managed to push her way to the stage; calling the festivities to a close but she was mainly panned off by the mercenaries as one of them puts a round into 516's head causing him to fall back into the stage curtain.

    "Exit stage left!" yelled Hotshot. The group howled with laughter refilling their drinks.

    516's body is dragged off stage by Hogwild and soon after...another version of 516 walked onto the stage picking up where his previous version left off, that was until Flintlock saw fit to arrest him on the spot. Now with the party was coming to a close the Dukes were in need for a new form of entertainment and it looked like NCR was manning that parade as Flintlock escorted 516 to McCarin Airport, Outpost for NCR Command. The drunk group of mercenaries lead by Hotshot, Mouse and Hogwild followed Colt to the old airport awaiting to see the results of this arrest.

    Upon arrival the trial for 516 was swift and at this point was more for show for all the attending officers. 516 had all his pleas dismissed even after having Cherno Bill from the 7th Flag step up for his defense. The judge was not having any of it and sentenced 516 to death by firing squad. He was quickly marched outside to an awaiting firing line.  

    Meanwhile, Mr. Fahrenheit was just waking up out of his drunken slumber, feeling extremely hung over and laying in a hotel room surrounded by various women and empty bottles. Clearly using his skills diplomacy to his advantage the night before. Rolling himself out of bed and pouring himself into his uniform he rushed downstairs hoping to make it back to base before anyone knew he was gone. With every step it felt like his last as he struggled to keep himself from throwing up in the streets. He managed to make it to base just in time to see the firing squad shoot 516 and a very angry Captain Flintlock waiting for him. The execution was pointless as another version of 516 casually strolled into the camp and was arrested once again only this time offering up some very important information that he was willing to exchange for his freedom.

    NCR High Command, Fahrenheit and Flintlock all met privately with 516 to discuss the details of his plan. He knew of a mine...a mine that would hold the key to a large treasure that had been lost by the JMC not long after "The Fall". The only problem was that this mine was in the heart of Legion Territory. This mission was risky but with a active JMC oil pipeline it was essential that the NCR act quickly. Flintlock, Fahrenheit and 516 were then ordered to find the mine, secure it and cut the oil supply out from under the legion's feet. Flintlock knew she would need more hands than this and brought in the 7th Flag and Captain Hotshot and the joining Dukes.

    The group managed to find themselves a train that would take them as far as Ashfork, AZ, from there they would have to carry out their mission on foot. The train ride soon met with complications as a large burned out semi truck had been laid across the tracks. 516 and Fahrenheit did their best to clear it from their path while Flintlock and the others stood guard atop the train, keeping an eye out for any signs of enemy movement.  They did not have to wait long as a lone sniper round hit Flintlock through her right shoulder sending her from the top of the train straight to the ground. Three battalions of Legion forces were closing on on their location, all lead by a vanguard of motorized chariots and old cars. In the midsts of all the gunfire Hogwild managed to carry Flintlock back to the safety of the train as they old wreck was blown off the tracks by 516.

    The situation escalated quickly as the legion gave chase trying to board the train. It was a long fight but the group managed to stop the train and make it across a old bridge built by the JMC and in the end Cherno Bill made a large sacrifice by setting off a mini nuke stored in his Cruel Bus that was fitted to one of the cargo train cars. The explosion ripped through the train killing many of the perusing legion giving the group a chance to put some distance between themselves and their attackers.

    Soon after making camp they found themselves ambushed and taken prisoner by Legion forces and then on their way to Flagstaff in chains. They were all on the road for days being forced marched by their captors. Upon arrival many were tortured and interrogated by the Centurion in charge but all of them were soon thrown into the Walkup Sky Dome in Flagstaff, AZ to fight for the entertainment of Caesar. 516 on the other hand was brought to stand with Caesar himself to watch the fights and serve drinks.

    Each member of the party was chained together during the fight, forced to work together to stay alive, all except Cherno Bill who was put into the fight as a last minute addition, equipped with only a Lasso.  During the battle he managed to wrangle a Yuo Guai and slaughter the remaining enemy fighters. It was now a showdown between the group and the remaining motorized chariots circling the arena. A slight rumble in the stadium caused everyone to stop for a moment as a approaching noise grew louder with each second. A large M-1 Abrams Tank plowed through the arena wall into the middle of the fight, the driver emerged revealing himself to be "Warchief Grimm" of the Dukes of the Nuke. He directed his tank barrel and took aim at the skybox from where Caesar was watching and opened fire. The tank round barreled into it's target but managed to only wound Cesar as he was saved by 516 as he pulled him away from the blast. The arena was in chaos as more Dukes stormed in setting all the prisoners free. The sounds of Motorhead and gunfire overtook the sky dome as The group managed to load up on the tank and escape the city with the help of Grimm.

    Now the question was...where to go from here.


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    NOW

    The sounds of desolate wasteland are overpowered by thunderous thumps of explosions and the rattle of distant gunfire. Smoke trails creep upwards from the old city of Flagstaff, AZ sitting on the distant horizon . The smell of death and gunpowder are
    carried on the hot wind of the wasteland giving everyone riding in the Dukes Convoy something to linger on as they roll away victorious from the battle.

    Warchief Grimm sits atop the Turret of the M1-Abrams silently smoking a hand rolled cigarette.  He keeps a watchful eye on the passing surroundings taking comfort knowing his rescue mission of his troops was a success but his doubts started to creep back in when he saw his victory came with a unexpected payload. He glances over at the group joining him atop the tank exhaling a thick stream of smoke into the wind.  

    20 Mule Team's Captain Flintlock and her second in command Mr. Fahrenheit were among them the ranks. 20 Mule team and The Dukes already had a rough road as it stood and he knew that this assault on Flagstaff would only add to the pile.  At least Mr. Fahrenheit was there to talk her down if it came to that. Cherno Bill from the 7th Flag, riding atop his newly tamed Yao Guai alongside the tank, was the rouge of the group and the last person he expect to be shoulder to shoulder with these folk. A wild card through and through. Last but not least, the illusive bastard himself 516 of the JMC and his mysterious Blonde Companion who ended up being the wheelman during their escape from the city. She was good, he had to give her that but she kept very poor company.

    All these new additions to his current ranks made him uneasy to say the least. The treaty between the NCR and Dukes was already shaky at best and this would only "Stir the Shit Pot". On top of that his attack on The Legion would be felt hard by the empire but it would not go unpunished. They were "Sneaky Shits" when it comes to battle and would more than likely to make a example of himself and the rest of The Dukes. Expecting a quick a decisive retaliation and he planned on being long gone before they have the chance to strike.

    He leans against the mounted 50 Cal machine taking another drag then settles in for the remainder of the ride.

    ------------------------




    "Hollow Point"

    A large barter town in the midst of a vast terrain of nothingness and rocky cliffs. The town itself lies hidden deep underground within a series of old caves that have produced a thriving township. They have remained outside Legion control due to a series trade agreements with the Empire.  The entrance is at the foot of a large cliff-side that has been fashioned into a working town gate and big enough to allow in the largest of vehicles entry.

    The tank rolls to a stop at the entrance it's engine still growling in idle as one of the guards timidly walks over.

    "Uh...are you here to trade?", the guard asks.

    "Just open the fucking gate, shitheel.", Grimm spits.

    Not wanting to tempt fate the guard signals for the gate to open.

    The doors open slowly as the the convoy rolls inside. The interior has been lit by a multitude of string lights and other random assortments that illuminate the road as they follow the it deeper underground finally coming up upon the town.

    ---------------------------------------------


    Last edited by Warchief Grimm on Mon Jan 23, 2017 11:20 pm; edited 10 times in total
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    "Flagstaff Aftermath"

    Post by Warchief Grimm on Mon Jan 09, 2017 3:44 pm

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    The Legion field camp is buzzing with activity, slaves move about getting things set up while others are wrangled and put in their place in the cages. Guards stand watch at their posts while other foot soldiers participate in training with the officers.  The sounds of whips cracking and people yelling are almost over powering at the campsite.

    Away from outside noise, standing inside his officers GP tent is Lucius Vibius Gavros, Centurion for Caesar's forces.




    He stands over a table looking down at a map of Arizona while he begins to place down small tokens resembling his forces.

    "What a mess..." he thought to himself.

    He recalls his previous engagement with NCR forces left him in a embarrassing situation his commanding officers. Loosing that train was tragic and could have been a valuable asset in the war front. He at least prided himself in knowing he caught Captain Flintlock off guard putting a 50 cal round in her during ambush on the train.  It's not every day you outshoot a NCR Ranger especially one a infamous as Flintlock.  Despite the loss of the train, his forces managed to ambush their campsite and take them prisoner. One of his officers had the pleasure of leading the interrogations but after things went to shit he got a tank round by "Warchief Grimm's Mad Dog" for his troubles. Gavros himself was there to see it and just managed to escape the blast.
     
    Gavros moves a pawn on the large map trying to find it a more fitting location.

    After the attack on Flagstaff their forces were just beginning to muster back together. The damage was immense and with the NCR still sneaking around in the area Caesar personally took the attack on his life as insulting. He was fuming, screaming at all his officers, Gavros including, demanding quick results in eliminating the Dukes/NCR threat. He was relived to know the information provided in the interrogations gave him a head start.  

    His thoughts are cut short as he looks up at the entrance of his tent as one his Legionnaires walks inside quickly removing his helmet standing at attention.

    "Centurion Gavros. Scouts have reported that a large convoy of military vehicles were seen heading West towards the front.", The Legion soldier states.

    "Send our a search party. A hundred of our best men. I want Flintlock and The Dukes apprehended alive if possible then return them to Flagstaff. Bring 516 to me directly.", orders Centurion Gavros.

    "At once Centurion Gavros. I'll see to it personally." The Soldier declares, he steps back outside the tent leaving Gavros to his map.

    He adjusts the pieces on the map to reflect this new information.

    "Caesar will have his justice.", he says to himself.

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    Last edited by Warchief Grimm on Thu Jan 12, 2017 9:11 pm; edited 7 times in total
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    Re: "Flagstaff Aftermath"

    Post by Warchief Grimm on Mon Jan 09, 2017 11:26 pm

    -----------------------------------------------



    The town was starting to come to life as the wasteland sky outside the cave began to darken. Bars were opening their doors to the night time masses, drunks, thugs, street greasers and skags alike clamored through the streets, every once in a while the occasional sound of gunfire would liven things up.

    Warchief Grimm stands with the military trucks outside the local garage. His two MP's Bacon and Mongo, two hulking looking mother fuckers decked out in make shift military police uniforms stand next to him keeping a close eye out on the patrons walking the streets while Grimm watches as the newly liberated prisoners are offloaded. Each one of them was being given a few supplies, some caps and hopefully a fresh start. Some of them had been former NCR grunts years back, others just poor souls caught in the wrong town during the wrong raid. Each one had their own tale to tell but they all had one thing in common, wanting to go their own way. He respected the hell out of them for fighting their way out of that hell hole along side his mercs. Each one showed true grit.

    "Tough motherfuckers" Grimm thought to himself.

    "It's not every day you take a bite of a shit sandwich and spit it back in the face of the guy who served it to you."

    Slave labor never had much appeal to Grimm and frankly he thought that there was no honor in dealing in human trafficking.  Although there was not much honor in being a war profiteer but at least he had standards. That's just the way things work in the wasteland. Dealing in weapons and hiring out his mercenaries was his game and he had made himself a decent living chasing that profession but he would be the first to admit that it came with great risk but even greater rewards.

    D-Day, one his lower ranking Dukes steps over to him standing at attention. A bandoleer of Grenade rounds line the front of his uniform.  

    "Warchief, All the prisoners have been off loaded sir. "

    "Good. Stay with the vehicles. I need a drink. At ease", Grimm signals to his MP's and begins to walk away.

    D-Day relaxes scratches the back of his neck. "What should I do about the others sir? The folks with the NCR? The Clone? The Texan?"

    "We'll deal with them when I get back. Just get with Hotshot and the others and keep things under control. ", he says looking over his shoulder already heading towards the bar.

    Bacon and Mongo look at one another and begin to follow the Warchief.

    Bacon smirks, his eyes hidden behind his aviators. "Ten caps the Captain is the brig when we get back." he states lighting up a smoke.

    Mongo holds up a small bag of caps. "I'll take that bet."


    -------------------------------------



    "F.U.B.A.R." A local saloon of Hollow Point.

    The music is loud, the booze is cheap and the company is worse but this is the kind of bar where Grimm can hang his hat.

    He is no stranger to this part of town, in fact a lot of his contracts have hired him in this very joint. As it stands, it's still a better operation than "Undertown". Stepping through the doors of the bar with his two MP's next to him he looks over the crowd. The patrons look up for a moment at the new arrivals then casually go back to their drinks.

    The trio make their way to the bar towards stepping out of the way as a ongoing brawl between two drunk raiders stumble across their path. They crash into the Jukebox knocking it back an forth switching over it over to the next song.

    "Ladies Room" by KISS begins to blare out of the aging speakers.

    Grimm sits himself down at a empty barstool. Bacon and Mongo push aside two drunk bar patrons already passed out in their stools and take a seat next the Warchief.

    "Nuka Cola and two Tequila's." he says pulling out a small wooden box from his pocket. Grimm hands over a few caps as the Bartender slings up his order.

    He begins rolls himself a smoke.

    "So were you able to take out the big cheese?", Bacon asks reaching for his glass.

    "Negative.", states Grimm as he seals up his rolling paper.

    "So, why would someone name himself after a salad?" Mongo asks them.

    Bacon and Grimm stop for a moment taking in what he just asked.

    Grimm picks up his Nuka Cola and raises the bottle.

    "We got em back and we left Flagstaff in ruins. All in all I'd say that's a win gentlemen. Cheers", Grimm and his men clink their glasses and down their drinks.

    "Maybe you should switch to something stronger. I think they have a bottle of Brahmin Milk behind the bar for you." a drunk voice says followed a howling laughter by the group behind them.

    Grimm puts his bottle down, his grip and lips tightening upon hearing their insult. He looks over his shoulder scowling at the drunk trio of raiders sitting at the table behind them. They are already more than a few drinks in and are well on their way to seek out trouble.

    "What was that? I didn't catch it." Grimm goes back to his drink as the Raider stands up swerving with every step as he approaches.

    "I..ssSaid...why don't you and your merc whoredogs..go--", the raider trys to form the rest of the words as Mongo and Bacon stand up towering over him.

    The raider loses his train of thought at the sight of the two MP's standing between him and The Warchief.

    Grimm stands facing the raider removing the smoke from behind his ear.

    The raider's buddies stand up from their seats at the table. The room quiets down...

    Grimm pulls out his zippo and lights it.

    The song on the Jukebox fades as it switches tracks to "Dance" by Motorhead.

    The bartender sighs hearing the song knowing what is about to follow. He quickly takes cover down behind the bar.

    Grimm, Mongo and Bacon smirk.

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    The music echo's outside the bar as the commotion inside begins to grow even louder.

    The glass window of F.U.B.A.R. shatters as the drunk raider crashes through landing roughly in the street. Another one is right behind him as he is slammed out the doorway of the bar.


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    Last edited by Warchief Grimm on Tue Jan 17, 2017 12:02 am; edited 2 times in total
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    TheIllustriousLeader516

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    Re: "Flagstaff Aftermath"

    Post by TheIllustriousLeader516 on Tue Jan 10, 2017 11:46 pm

    Still shackled from Caesars imprisonment, the Illustrious Leader slides off of the tanks barrel crashing to the ground. Blurred vision, 516 stands with a passion to retreat as... he always does. Slinking into the shadows of an alley he disappears as the rest of the party are still adjusting to the new environment.

    The Illustrious Leader stands proudly, confident of his escape, as he walks down this dark alley. The ground is steaming with the stench of discards left by adjacent businesses, bodies left behind in drunken brawls and the nameless that live in the discards of its shadows. Just like the enigma of the setting, a hand mysteriously reaches out grabbing 516 and dragging him into a room. Just as quickly, a dagger strikes his throat.

    "Well, well well. I think THAT is the quote isn't it? It's been a long time 516." The mysterious thug confidently quips to 516.
    "I eh uh, that could be anyone that says that. Honestly there are a lot of 516's arou..."
    "Don't play games buddy, we know who you are and the debt you owe us. You seem to gamble caps quite a bit in a pinch, but misunderstand how a debt owed is a life discarded soon after... if you don't pay up miner."
    "Ho HO hold on! You wouldn't want to fight me. Not while I have a team of specialist body guards from the top tier of NCR, Dukes of the Nuke, and the Texans! Not to mention this white haired crazy bitch with a club who..."

    The thug steps back for a moment and ponders. He realized that the large tank was quite out of place in this place, but now realized it was the Grimm's and that he had to tread carefully. Carefully for the sake of his life and standing with the Dukes, but he knew that 516 was in deeper with the Dukes then he ever would be with himself.

    "Alright clone, i'm sure you remember this axe. That's right, I am Axel Violet. You remember my threat?" Axel places his signature axe to 516's stomach like he did... years ago.

    516 states back with a mighty stressed gulp "Roses are red... violets are blue? You won't let my red blood run dry, because you want to see the pain in my eyes too?"

    "Damn straight. So tell me why you were brought in here with those folks, else I gut you SLOWLY. Ain't no use killing you. But I know you don't do pain well."




    Last edited by TheIllustriousLeader516 on Tue Jan 24, 2017 1:33 am; edited 2 times in total
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    Re: "Flagstaff Aftermath"

    Post by Warchief Grimm on Tue Jan 10, 2017 11:55 pm

    D-Day stands by the tank humming a "Motorhead" tune to himself, clearly caught in the moment. All in the meanwhile 516 slinks down off the tank in a horrid fashion right behind him slinking off into the shadows.

    D-day finally reaches the solo moving to the rhythm of his own humming then brings his attention from his song and back to the clipboard in his hands. He steps forward as he readies to take a head count their current ranks, pointing at each member of the crew as he moves down the line.

    "Ok. 1, 2, 3, 4,5..5?" he stops suddenly looking up not seeing The Illustrious Leader anywhere.

    D-day starts to panic turning himself around.

    He marches over to the tank and starts to quickly look all over the place even under the massive war machine.

    "5..."

    Standing up he throws his clipboard in the air, "5?! 516!"

    "Aw, horse shit!" He yells to himself tossing his helmet down.

    "The boss is gonna kill me..."

    ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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    "Last Call"

    Post by Warchief Grimm on Wed Jan 18, 2017 9:46 pm

    "FUBAR"

    Grimm stands between Bacon and Mongo finishing his smoke awaiting the next contestant to step forward. A bigger group raiders pushes past the onlookers standing in the bar. All six of the raiders are lead by a larger hulking beast of man who goes by the name of "Lug". All of them stand across from the three pulling out their pipes, chains and makeshift clubs.

    Lug grins as he takes a step forward.  

    "About fucking time." Grimm says to himself putting out his smoke. He takes a step forward moving past Mongo and Bacon and stands looking at Lug unimpressed.

    "You fucked up pissant. Now you gotta die." states Lug, licking the blade of his knife.

    Quickly and without hesitation Grimm produces his 1911 out of it's holster and puts a round into Lug's right eye. The onlookers dive out of the way as Grimm quickly takes aim at remaining armed raiders.

    Most don't have time to flee as Grimm opens fire putting them down one after another.

    The patrons of the bar quickly find the nearest exit or cower behind their tables and chairs as the gunfire dies down.  

    One of the surviving raiders attempts to pull himself to safety by dragging his failing body across the floor of the bar. He grunts in pain with each movement leaving a thick blood trail in his wake. Grimm walks over his boots clearly heard with each step. He steps on the raiders hand pressing it down onto broken glass.

    The raider cries out in pain, "Arggh!! Fuck! Just hang--".

    Grimm's 1911 barks off a round silencing him. He takes a moment looking at the rest of the bar, holstering his still smoking sidearm he casually walks over to Lug's lifeless body kneeling down next to him.

    "Looks like lights out for you Lug.", he says picking up the knife. Grimm takes Lug's limp left hand and quickly cuts off the middle finger for the bounty marker.

    Placing the finger in his left front pocket Grimm stands up signaling to Bacon and Mongo.  

    "Sorry about the mess. Help yourselves to whatever they have on them."  he says to the cowering bartender giving him a small salute as all three of them stroll out of the bar. They all step over the bodies sprawled on the ground outside. Mongo stops and gives one of the groaning raiders on the ground a hard kick to the ribs then shuffles off to catch up.

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    Last edited by Warchief Grimm on Mon Jan 23, 2017 11:31 pm; edited 1 time in total
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    "Search and Destroy"

    Post by Warchief Grimm on Fri Jan 20, 2017 9:43 pm

    ------------------------------------------------------------------
    Location: I-40 Arizona

    The barren sandy road of I-40 lays silent as the winds softly blow off of the aging pavement.  The sounds of footsteps and the pur of a V8 engine become louder as the company of legion passes through. It's lead by Centurion Gavros standing atop an relic of a 1970's Camaro. It's roof has been cut allowing him to stand in it like a chariot. The driver and passenger sit behind a set of caged windows, the dimming lights of the car illuminating their path. It's engine grows to a stop as Gavros orders the driver to halt.

    He steps off the vehicle and walks into the road his armor and sword clinking with each footstep. He stops seeing a large sand pile that has stretched across the road. As he walks closer he can see a set of tracks still intact. He kneels down to get a closer look seeing that they have been made by a set of large treads.

    He smirks looking up at the horizon. In the distance sits a small beacon of light standing out across the vast dark horizon of the wasteland.  

    "I've got you now you fucking savage." he says to himself tossing down a handful of sand. He stands quickly and moves back to the vehicle resuming his post.

    He turns looking his men awaiting in formation behind the car.

    "Nos moveri ad parte concava! Ego vis ad caput belli principem!
    Sed eamus duces occidere!", Gavros shouts.

    Translation: We move to Hollow Point! I want the war chief's head! Now let's go kill some dukes!

    All his men cheer as Centurion Gavros orders them to move out. They all turn in unison and all begin marching towards the distant light on the horizon.
    ----------------------------------------------------------------------

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    Re: "Flagstaff Aftermath"

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      Current date/time is Mon Dec 11, 2017 5:16 am