Realistic or Modern NY Safe Area

[Lord Bradorian]

GENERAL
It's nine in the morning on a cloudy summer day.

The Nomads are in a bad mood. They just returned from a run to the Outlands. Apparently they ran into marauders out near the county line, and got in a big firefight with them. Soldiers from the Garrison came to the Nomads' aid, and sent the raiders packing. Eight of the Nomads were murdered, and a pair of soldiers are missing, presumed dead.

The fishing groups led by Bigby and Morgan had another clash on the water over fisheries, and it was very dramatic. Four crew were on each vessel - only one man of each ship returned. Funny enough, they came back sailing side by side - you suppose they had fought out their differences after killing a few of one another. Combined with the losses of the Nomads, fifteen occupants of the Safe Area were killed today, the worst casualties since the uprising against the military.

The Constabulary has issued a request to the populace for 9x19 and .380 ACP ammunition for their sidearms, and will be visiting larger settlements to seek this request. They offer to trade .22 handguns, sporting rifles, and ammo.

The Trader's Den is closed today, for an unknown reason. People are outraged, and crowds are milling about, but the traders residing there as well as a complement of Nomad thugs are guarding the post, not allowing entry and offering no explanation.


Dracoburg Crocodile

The roads winding through your quaint settlement are quiet this morning, as they are most mornings. You share coffee with your advisors, and go over matters for the day.

You're informed that the Trader's Den is closed for the day, and subsequently, your supplemental rations haven't arrived. Those provided by the governments have been coming short -- last week they were short, this week even shorter. There are rumors that the food is running out.

Some of your men got into a verbal quarrel in a public house in the city. Some of the Constabulary accused your group of hoarding food - which you are, but your men didn't appreciate their accusations. Though tempers cooled before blows were traded, it's clear you have some detractors within the de-facto police force. The Constabulary is made up of ex-rebel fighters, who rose up to fight the military a year ago.

Early in the morning, a pair of constables arrive at your home. They bid you good day, and trust you'd heard of the official request for small caliber bullets. Thus, they ask if you have any to spare. According to your last evaluation of your armory, you have twelve magazines fit for glock pistols not bring used, which you know the constables mostly carry, and forty loose rounds. Nineteen of your men carry pistols using these munitions.

New Kingsland Trektek

The day is off to a tumultuous start. Word travels of a skirmish within the safe area, the barbarians' first incursion into your homeland. It is a pity that section of the border is not yet walled. Among those fallen were one of your 'knights', brought down when a shotgun blew his horse out from under him, and subsequently beaten to death. The brother was serving a short sword-service to a Nomad, Andrew Wilson, in exchange for a supply run of valuable goods they'd performed for your clan.

Scouts return with a report regarding a nearby neighborhood which you'd considered expanding into with an outpost - it is within the Safe Area, albeit abandoned. The place is safe and free of squatters. Though there is not much to be found in the neighborhood itself, it's position upon a tall hill marks it as a defensible bulwark and a tall sentry.

The Trader's Den is apparently closed for the day, and because of it, your people cannot go barter for drinking water. This is a long standing issue for your kingdom - there is a stream close by owned by the government which prohibits public access which you could perhaps petition to use, or just use it - they don't post guards, only threaten seizures and other ill will if you're caught. Otherwise, you could build a simple system bringing water from the coast, but it would take a lot of firewood and manpower to boil it to make it potable. It still might be preferable in the long term to trading for it - else, you'll be parched every day the traders decide to closeup shop.

The constabulary visits your domain around ten in the morning. He cites the official request for ammoes, and asks if you can spare. You have seventy-four magazines full of the ammunitions requested, and one-hundred or so loose bullets. Forty of your vassals use these bullets, trained to use their handguns effectively from horseback, where a rifle is more cumbersome.

The constables also notify you of an offer from the government. They're looking for volunteers to serve at the Garrison. Should you provide a dozen or more militia for the post for a month, you will receive extra rations for two months, redeemable in the future if the government isn't able to execute on the deal immediately.

The Sanctuary AlphaBlueWolf

It's a crappy day out this morning. The kiddos wanted to go out to play, but you told them no. Not only because you didn't want them catching a cold, but because the protesters were out there. Again. Every Saturday this month a dozen or so assholes have been showing up on the edge of your property, shouting obscenities and chanting ignorance. They think the children are dangerous, and you shouldn't be harboring them. Last time you let them out to play while the protest was going, one of the kids was shouted at and made to cry.

One of the oldest, Isaac, who has massive feet and superhuman hearing
which causes him horrible migraines, needs medicine. Normally, you'd go to the Trader's Den for it, but they've closed up - everyone's pretty up in arms about it. You know one of the traders there, James; he might be able to clue you in as to what's got the Den shut up for the day.

A constable comes around midday. You assume he's come to ask about the official request for munitions, and you prepare to turn him down, as you hardly have enough to run through your own sidearm. But, he's actually come concerning the protesters. He denounces them, and assures you that if they trespass your property or harm you otherwise, you can trust the constables to sort them out.

New Hope Lazaro1505

You're woken early in the morning to the sound of crisis. The way your staff sprint around Lennox Hill, you'd think the place was on fire. But, this was not the case - you'd taken in thirteen gunshot wound victims. Two fishermen, eight Nomads, and three soldiers, casualties of a clash on the water and a firefight out by the Garrison with the marauders. One of the soldiers is sadly pronounced dead shortly after you begin operating on him. One of the Nomads are paralyzed, and you've had to amputate one of the fisherman and another Nomad.

You require antibiotics to treat the wounded, and send some of your guards to get it from the Trader's Den. Apparently it's closed for the day - who knows why - but your guards convinced the traders to make an exception. It being a bunch of Nomads that got shot up, the Nomad guards at the Den were susceptible to their persuasion. They return shortly with the required antibiotics, on the house.

Constables arrive at the hospital around midday. They carry a shipment of saline, morphine, and bloodwork equipment from the government. The officers also ask you about the request for pistol caliber ammoes - the government had issued a request for 9x19 and .380 ACP. In your guards' armory, you have eight magazines holding these munitions, and fifty loose rounds to spare. He also informs you that the constabulary would be willing to post a permanent security force at Lennox Hill, if you provided them with normal deliveries of some over the counter medicines, of which you have a plentiful stock

Sacred Heights Obsidian )
Early in the morning you're awoken to a bulletin by one of your cardinals. Early this morning, just before sunrise, a gun battle erupted between men of the Safe Zone and the mysterious marauders. In the aftermath, the gangbangers fled in disorder, and your men managed to capture four of them which were withdrawing without allies in support, killing two who tried to resist. They're being held in the cellar now, awaiting your interrogation. Cardinal Ratiskew informs you they've been uncooperative thus far.

Your hunters come back with bad news. They came under heavy rifle fire from a distant position during their expedition, despite their traversal through a wooded area - whoever it was knew the forests intimately, meaning it was unlikely to have been the marauders. Your riders have encountered woodsfolk before, and noticed them being armed, but they've been docile up until now. Perhaps they've decided they no longer want you in "their" woods. Your hunters have noticed a sharp lack of game in the past weeks.

The Trader's Den within the Safe Area is closed today, for unknown reasons. You usually have several standing orders there, and rely on the Den heavily to provide several critical resources. If it's closed for more than a couple days, you'd have some problems. It may be prudent to ask around the zone, see if you can dig up any information on what the problem is. However, word is that the Traders and the Nomads affiliated with them have been pretty tight lipped about the situation, despite tempers flaring at their guardposts.

 Shambala AlwaysCrashing
Your peaceful rest is disturbed at dawn by the distant reports of many guns. Your sharp ears tell you it comes from the direction of the easternmost extent of the Safe Area - you know there's been trouble with raiders there. Presumably, there's been more trouble.

Having already been awoken, you decide to go about your day, and summon your Council. You can tell that several of them were awoken abruptly by the shots as well - they, as well as yourself, are disheveled. Still, you take reports about ongoing matters.

Some of your merchants tried to visit the Trader's Den even earlier in the morning, at four, when the place opens. However, they discovered it was closed. They questioned the occupants, but couldn't receive any answers. It's a big deal - the Den is the center of commerce in the Safe Area, and arguably for all of New York.

Some of your councilmen propose that you send a ring of missionaries to Sacred Heights, the land of the 'Great Herald', Syprus, and his 'Reformation.' In the past, you've forgone establishing contact with this sect, as your people are suspicious of their heretic beliefs. However, your council members sway you to see the value in planting religious agents there, to learn of their ways, perhaps establish trade, and maybe poach their members. In time, maybe even Syprus' closest disciples can be made to understand the inevitable ascension of Satguru.

 

[Ashy_OCdesigns]

Arlo stares up at the men who visited Dracoburg, cocking his head to one side as he listens in. He has his knees pulled up against his chest, as if that will make him more compact somehow. He's scratching idly all the while, both as a way to cure his boredom and as a way to make it seem like he isn't listening. It's not like he cares too much, but if other settlements are experiencing these problems, it could be a problem for everyone.

He hadn't had time to stock up either, as no one was actually knocked out. He does know that one of the fights is about food. There's no surprise there, as there's always a shortage of something or another. Sometimes, groups of various settlements will fight over these shortages. He tries not to get caught up whenever possible. It wasn't between two settlements, though, but between the Constabulary and some of Dracoburg's members.

Of the nineteen people who carry guns, Arlo isn't one of them who has them on his person at the moment. He does have a lot of knives, though.

 

[AlphaBlueWolf]

"Assholes."

Amanda was perched up on one of towers she'd attached to the staff buildings scattered around the park overlooking the land. They were the best places for them, because you could only get to it through the building, and she was able to lock the kids out from playing in them and getting hurt. She looked through the binoculars she'd taken from the park itself, the ones that were mounted to a box that you were supposed to use to view animals, that she now used to view such rabid creatures crowding around her gate. They were painted with a childish jungle theme that actually worked quite well as makeshift camouflage.

The protestors had come back again. They chanted words outside the gate to their territory, ugly words directed at the mutant children they knew were inside. It had come to a point where Amanda expected it and checked up on the various towers daily for signs of them. But it seemed to only be Saturdays, starting at the beginning of the month. But every Saturday since, like clockwork, they came and shouted, and Amanda had to basically lock the kids at the back of the park so that none of them heard anything or got scared. Or, God forbid, that the crazies actually got through the fencing they would have to march through the zoo in order to find them, and by that time she would've been able to get the group out. She was paranoid that the chanting was only phase one, and soon enough they'd be trying to rip through the outer fence and march towards the Sanctuary. So, the woods and the territory between the Sanctuary and the outer perimeter had become off limits to the kids. They moaned and groaned about it, and some had even asked her why, to which she had to make up a convincing lie. They knew about the protestors, a group even making a kid cry one day, and they were smart. Amanda thought they must be theorizing about what was going on, and it was her job to make sure the protestors didn't affect them. She thought she'd been so careful thus far, but it seemed as the Sanctuary grew as a safe haven, it also got on the radar of these types. She'd have to take a trip to the Trader's den to get some more secure defenses.

Amanda descended from the tower, debating on what she should do. Her fingers itched to grab hold of her firearm, march to the outer perimeter, and threaten that she'd pop them full of holes if they didn't leave and never come back. But she knew in this new world, violence was always met with violence, and next time the protestors might come back with weapons attached to their jagged words. She hid the kids away always until they left, and never interacted with the group, hoping they'd leave if they didn't get a reaction out of her, but that didn't seem to be working. These people made her blood boil, but she had to think about the kids and not her anger. She was done with that life. She promised herself that.

After she locked up the building and started making her way to where the children were, she was stopped by Isaac, one of their oldest. She affectionately called him Cottontail, because his large feet and amazing hearing reminded her of a rabbit. She gave the other children similar nicknames, and it often helped bond them together. But she was aware that people had hunted him down before because of that very fact, because of his mutations, wishing to cut off his foot and use it in the same way as a lucky rabbit foot. It seemed only the whack jobs had survived the apocalypse.

He complained of his usual symptom, migraines because of his hearing. But upon looking at the medicine she kept on deck, she really had nothing that could help him. The Trader's Den was the obvious solution. She could get both of what she needed to secure the perimeter even more, and stock up on Isaac's medication. Headache medicine was one of the easier medications to acquire, because it severed to help a slight inconvenience rather than a medical emergency, which they had more of the latter in the new world, though for Isaac it tended to be more than an inconvenience. A lot of kids had similar issues because of their mutations. It was a lot to keep up with, but Amanda managed it. She gladly took on whatever problems came with the children upon their arrival, no matter what it was.

So, she spent the morning getting the kids situated with their morning routines, as well as going over safety procedures with everyone. She told them she was going out for supplies, and that they were to stay hidden within the Sanctuary unless it wasn't safe anymore. The kids knew they were safe within the walls of the zoo, that was just one of her usual rules when she was gone. If any danger got into the Sanctuary at any point, they were to run and find safety together. Around midday, the kids were safely hidden, and she locked up the sanctuary and made her way to the outer perimeter. She had no idea what she would do about the protestors. She knew they couldn't be around while the children were here alone. They left eventually, but she wanted to get to the Trader's Den and back in a timely fashion so that Isaac didn't suffer with his migraines for long. She thought about waiting it out, but she did have her trusty gun to ward them off in case she decided to.

When Amanda made it to the perimeter, she could see the group gathered there. She could hear them from a mile away too, and that wasn't an exaggeration on her part. The group swung into an uproar upon seeing her, but a figure waved her over and stood out among the crowd. She recognized him as a member of the Constabulary. She'd heard word of their request, and even though she'd fought side by side with some of those people, and honorable people they were, she just couldn't afford to lose any of her own supplies right now. Especially not with the Saturday hangouts at her front gate. But the constable, to her surprise, started telling the group to beat it. He did not once ask her for ammunition, but rather told her that if the group started trespassing or harming her, she could contact the Constabulary to deal with it. She sent her gratitude with him before beginning her travel.

She'd learned that the Trader's Den was completely shut today, but that would do no good for Isaac. She had a contact there, James. He might be able to tell her what's going on today and help her acquire what she needed to both help Isaac and keep the crazies out. So, she made the trek to the Trader's Den and searched for James to ask for his help.

 

[Crocodile]

Chairman Draco had a thoughtful morning, meeting with the core officers of the Committee of Public Safety. The inicident with the fishers was concerning as it was signaling potential food shortages. It only made him and the other Chairs of the Committee feel justified in their discreet hoarding of food supplies. The raid that had taken out Roamers was also troubling. Cracks were beginning to show in the Civilian Government of the Safe Zone. The CG now had the Constabulary suspiciously requesting rounds that could definitely stop a person in their tracks if shot. Their offer was amusing, trading for different calibers and sporting rifles. Admittedly he could give in and take some rifles, which curiously could be useful if things went south. It also meant they were oddly running low on urban grade ammunition or they were preparing for riots and revolts.

"So, Could I propose an alternative? It seems to me there's food issues," Chairman Draco said as he regards the pair of officers with a thoughtful expression. "I can only assume as much, because you're shorted our rations and now none are here today. The fishing trawlers also mean MORE food shortages until someone gets those idiots organized and fishing rather than competing."

Chairman Draco paused to enjoy his drink as he regards the Constables, feeling that this was a moment to shift power in his favor. Napoleon had made his bones serving the revolutionary government before they proved too inept to run France. He must play the game as well. The current government was weakening and needed shoring up, if only to make its actual failures to follow all the more spectacular. He wouldn't have to sabotage anything either, he would provide competent aid if in a rather self interested way.

"The Committee of Public Safety will provide additional armed personnel to support the Constabulary. For the common peace. You'll get guns and hands to wield them instead of bullets and magazines. I think you'll need the extra hands... considering your clearly preparing for food riots," Chairman Draco said and sips his coffee while eyeing the Constables again.

"In return, I want all fishing trawlers surrendered to Dracoburg. We will commence crewing and operating Safe Zone fishing. No more competition, no more stupid bullshit getting people killed. One SINGLE group that will deliver what it can and coordinate together to try to maximize the take. Competition has failed. The fight proves it. I know you don't like me, but at the end of the day I don't feel like watching the Safe Zone collapse into another fireball of chaos. Please give them my regards, Constables. I look forward to our potential partnership should you see the wisdom of my proposals."

The Constables were politely seen out of Dracoburg with the Chairman's words and offer. Yes or no, he already was heading off the narrative. The radio tower was going live.

---

"Hello, Citizens. It is that time again for a fireside chat with me, Chairman Draco. It seems events have been quite grim. We have had deaths so ugly and unnecessary, one must wonder just what could be going on. Obviously some events are beyond our control. The senseless deaths of the Nomads comes to mind, though I am glad to know forces were at least able to respond. My heart goes out to those close to the fallen and injured. May those who can, make a swift recovery free of issues," Chairman Draco said across the radio waves, smirking to himself as he spoke.

"Let us talk about the bigger issue. The Fishing Incident. I have proposed that the government place those trawlers under control of the Committee of Public Safety. Audacious, I know and perhaps I seem like a jackal picking at the dead. This is not the case. I am ENRAGED. Those deaths were STUPID. And the fault of a government that could not establish more firm handle on food production. Compeition? At this time? When food seems so tight?" Draco grins darkly ass he tiptoes around the rations issue while NEVER saying it to not giver the government an excuse to come at him. "Instead of two fully manned fishing ships, what do we have? Dead bodies. Shameful and idiotic. The owners of the vessels are just as responsible, if not more so than the government, but all that spilled blood is still on their hands."

"I have no choice but to broadcast my request publicly, before the government tries to lie to you and say I'm trying to do something diabolical. The Committee of Public Safety is here for YOU. And that means bringing order when needed. We control bay access and docks. It is only sensible I request those ships to crew. The ship owners have PROVEN they do not have YOUR interests at heart. It is time for people with a concept of responsibility to take those ships and aid in keep ALL of the Safe Zone fed. Think on this, Citizens and lets your local officials know that Chairman Draco is looking out for you."

Three tones sound before the transmission ends as Chairman Draco goes to plot his counter moves should his gambit fail.

 

[Lord Bradorian]

 Dracoburg Crocodile
The constable - Sgt. Walker, an old, bald gentleman - looks at you with a growing smirk the longer you talk, and you start to feel like a fool near the end of your spiel. "Look, Draco, man, you know me, I'm a watch sarge, I don't have this sort of juice. You'll have to talk with Tellerman. But if I had to guess, he'll laugh and tell ya to fuck yourself. Besides, you want a monopoly on the fishin', you'll have to go through Morgan, Bigby, AND Donelson - and lemme tell ya, they don't fight fair. Then again, Morgan and Bigby did pretty much kill eachother off this mornin'. Yet to see how the old men themselves resolve things...My bet's on ol' Morgan. His wife was on that boat, y'know."

Tellerman. An old fart who calls himself the chief of the constabulary. And, well, so does everybody else. You and George butt heads often - he's brash, it's his way or the high way, and he's always been highly skeptical of you and your exploits.

The constable thanks you for offering guns and ammo, but refuses your offer to deputize you and your followers. However, he suggests you could take this, too, up with Chief Tellerman.

You put out your radio broadcast after writing a few drafts of your speech, and after issuing it, you listen for a few moments to the eery static of the radio. Now, you'll have to wait and see what the people think of your broadcast.

One of your advisors, Alex Gratt, comes to you and suggests sending traders to the village of Ithaca, the fishmongers, or perhaps even to Kingsland, the lands of the foolish Lord Isaac. You could trade some spare clothes and light body armor for some extra foodstuffs, as well as maybe some tools. Alex would like one of their swords.

 

[Lord Bradorian]

The Sanctuary AlphaBlueWolf
Later on, while you're in the kitchen preparing breakfast, when the radio squawks to life. As per usual, the voice coming out of it is that of Jacob Draco, head of the Committee of Public Safety, and leader of his community based out of Dracoberg, in Echo Bay, county Westchester.

"Hello, Citizens. It is that time again for a fireside chat with me, Chairman Draco. It seems events have been quite grim. We have had deaths so ugly and unnecessary, one must wonder just what could be going on. Obviously some events are beyond our control. The senseless deaths of the Nomads comes to mind, though I am glad to know forces were at least able to respond. My heart goes out to those close to the fallen and injured. May those who can, make a swift recovery free of issues. Let us talk about the bigger issue. The Fishing Incident. I have proposed that the government place those trawlers under control of the Committee of Public Safety. Audacious, I know and perhaps I seem like a jackal picking at the dead. This is not the case. I am ENRAGED. Those deaths were STUPID. And the fault of a government that could not establish more firm handle on food production. Compeition? At this time? When food seems so tight? Instead of two fully manned fishing ships, what do we have? Dead bodies. Shameful and idiotic. The owners of the vessels are just as responsible, if not more so than the government, but all that spilled blood is still on their hands. I have no choice but to broadcast my request publicly, before the government tries to lie to you and say I'm trying to do something diabolical. The Committee of Public Safety is here for YOU. And that means bringing order when needed. We control bay access and docks. It is only sensible I request those ships to crew. The ship owners have PROVEN they do not have YOUR interests at heart. It is time for people with a concept of responsibility to take those ships and aid in keep ALL of the Safe Zone fed. Think on this, Citizens and lets your local officials know that Chairman Draco is looking out for you."

The message is long and droning, and you don't catch all of it due to imperfect transmission quality, but you get the gist. Draco has a silver tongue and that speech sounded well-rehearsed. He speaks the truth - the violence between the fishing gangs has been disruptive, and its likely true a combined fishing force would be more effective. However, it's also known that the fishing population has generally been in a downward trend for the last few months, and has resulted in the feud between the fishmongers.

After talking about the transmission with your helpers at the zoo, you head off for the Den. There, you find James standing guard, holding an SKS rifle - a relic of the 1990s, but still a highly accurate, and powerful weapon. "I...can't really talk to you 'bout that, sugar, sorry." James tells you, to your chagrin. You can tell he wants to tell you, but someone or something is keeping him quiet. "But ay, you hear Draco's rant on the waves? What he's sayin' makes sense and that, but what if it's like, a play to get control of the food? He could find himself with a lotta say-so around here if he did. I dunno."

 

[AlphaBlueWolf]

"Yeah, I keep my distance from that one. His little chats on the radio are off putting to say the least. He does make sense, and I think the fisherman are a bunch of old coots who argue like children, but one person handling all the fishing? Especially one that's... well, he's Draco alright, and I don't fancy the Draco type. The Public Safety Bureau, whatever they call themselves, seems more like a mini government than anything else, and I don't fancy those either. Personally, I think it should be run by a bunch of allied factions. The old world had three branches of government, right? All keeping each other in check, and it worked for a long while. It's what makes the most sense to me, but hey, as long as he's not a douche, doesn't bother me, and shares the catch equally, he's fine by me. Though I don't know if anyone worth their salt would agree to let Draco have full control over the trawlers. Some maybe, they are versed with the bay, but not all."

"Does Draco scare you that much into taking up arms to protect your stores?" Amanda said, steering things back around and pointing to his rifle, "You guys in the need for guards? Usually, you'd be haggling some poor paranoid into trading for guns, rather than operating one yourself."

 

[Lord Bradorian]

The Sanctuary ( AlphaBlueWolf )
"Draco? Heh. Nah, Draco's spouting off on the radio doesn't bother us, as long as he doesn't try to...publicize us, or whatever. We got...bigger problems," James tells you. On cue, an altercation breaks out in the crowd between an angry guy and one of the Nomad guards. Fists start flying, and you watch as the guard deploys a spray - you catch a distinct whiff of mace, and instinctually turn away -- it's not your first exposure to the spicy air. Usually only the constables and some of the soldiers carry that stuff, and you wonder how the Nomad got his hands on it; probably lifted it off a dead cop out in the ruins. "You should probably get goin', Mandy! People are getting nervous. The kids need ya," James tells you. He pulls a small tupperware container out of his back pocket and passes it to you - its filled with seeds of some sort - before departing with a wink. Yeah, thanks for the info, James.

On your way back to your place, you're caught up to by Lucy. A villager at Ithaca, she's a friend of yours, and helps keeps track of the village's rations. "Hey, Amanda. What do you think of the radio transmission? It sounds promising. If Jake can get the fisheries in order, maybe we won't have to deal with short rations every week. But, some of the guys aren't sold on it. You?"

 

[AlphaBlueWolf]

As Amanda walked back to the Sanctuary, she twirled the tupperware container full of seeds in her hand. James always came through for her. He was a good guy. She didn't stick around to watch the fight, but he hoped no one bashed him in while he was helping break it up. Though that mace was really something. She could use that for the whack jobs who crowded her fence.

While she walked, she was stopped by Lucy, one of the villagers of Ithaca, and another friend. Again, the subject of Draco was brought up. People were really tossing and turning about that, huh? Well, she guessed it did affect them on a bigger scale. Amanda was just too content staying out of the larger world's affairs, and in her own little world of parenting and rescuing the mutant kids.

"I think getting the fisheries actually fishing instead of bickering all day long would be great. I just don't like that he wants full control over the fishing. It's just a monopoly at that point." She said, putting the container back into her pocket. "A monopoly that could end in all of us at his mercy. I mean, give him one trawler, his people live and breathe out on Echo Bay, they definitely know how to fish, but not all of them. See how he does with one, that's what I'm thinking. He needs to prove himself first. Right now, he just gives too much cheesy politician, government vibes. And monopolies never work out for people like us. I think more than one person should have hold of the trawlers. But people other than the idiots who are on top of em right now. One thing's for sure, something about management of the fishing has got to change, whether its Draco or not."

 

[Ashy_OCdesigns]

Fish was a good food source, as it was also near water. He had been listening to Draco's food announcement. and knew a bit about the meeting because the constabulary visited, just not the finer details. Some people would share the fish, others would fight. Same thing with Draco's announcement. He would sometimes be called on to get food by Draco. Providing food was sometimes his job. Arlo actually enjoyed the role of getting and sometimes cooking food. He decided to ask permission. As such, he went around looking for Draco and that took time. He was running at a jog to be as efficient as possible.

"Excuse me,Chairman or somebody!" He called out louder than normal, either getting or not a follower of Draco's attention. He had no way of knowing if the follower even cared.
"Can I see if I can catch fish?" He stood there, not moving, except to finger a cleaver in his belt full of knives in a nonthreatening way.
"We need the fish for variety and water." Arlo thought, but didn't say. Instead he said:"Could you please pass on this message?"
Arlo said no more, just stood there, waiting with a slight slouch.

interactions: Crocodile

 

[Obsidian]

Early in the morning you're awoken to a bulletin by one of your cardinals. Early this morning, just before sunrise, a gun battle erupted between men of the Safe Zone and the mysterious marauders. In the aftermath, the gangbangers fled in disorder, and your men managed to capture four of them which were withdrawing without allies in support, killing two who tried to resist. They're being held in the cellar now, awaiting your interrogation. Cardinal Ratiskew informs you they've been uncooperative thus far.

The Herald orders for a minister to go to the Safe Zones to comfort the grieving families of those killed, and offer services to lay their loved ones to their final rest.

As for the marauder prisoners, they are to be kept locked up and under guard. They are not to be mistreated, providing them their daily sustenance, and questioned. Should nothing be gained by his followers, the Herald will deal with the matter personally upon his return.

Your hunters come back with bad news. They came under heavy rifle fire from a distant position during their expedition, despite their traversal through a wooded area - whoever it was knew the forests intimately, meaning it was unlikely to have been the marauders. Your riders have encountered woodsfolk before, and noticed them being armed, but they've been docile up until now. Perhaps they've decided they no longer want you in "their" woods. Your hunters have noticed a sharp lack of game in the past weeks.

This sudden new threat in the woodlands is a concern. The Reformation must be able to hunt, lest they become even more reliant on the Den. Still, these woodsmen were defending the land rather than actively pursuing any intruders. It must be for a reason.

The Herald ordered scouts to be sent into the Woods again, but this time under the banner of parlay. The Herald wishes to speak with them and understand why these woodsmen are attacking the Reformation. If successful, a meeting will be scheduled for when the Herald returns.

The Trader's Den within the Safe Area is closed today, for unknown reasons. You usually have several standing orders there, and rely on the Den heavily to provide several critical resources. If it's closed for more than a couple days, you'd have some problems. It may be prudent to ask around the zone, see if you can dig up any information on what the problem is. However, word is that the Traders and the Nomads affiliated with them have been pretty tight lipped about the situation, despite tempers flaring at their guardposts.

Knowing just how important trade with the Den is to the Reformation, the Herald decides to go there personally with a small detachment of his guards. Without further insight into the situation at the moment, Syprus decides to head for the Den while his guard are sent out to speak with the locals, asking around about what is happening with the Den.

Syprus, meanwhile, heads for the Den to ask to speak with someone about the Den's closure, offering to help if he is able to.

 

[Lord Bradorian]

Spoiler: Emerald Only

One of the captured marauders is made to crack before long, after forcing nails into the soft beds of his fingertips, up and under his fingernails. On the second finger, Eli, as he so eagerly introduced himself after this coaxing, begun to answer questions. The marauders call themselves the Confederation of the Cayuga. As the name suggests, they are settled by the Cayuga River near the middle of the state, and feature three different bands of outriders whom share an uneasy alliance, but that's about it. Eli describes how his group is relatively small compared to the larger of the three, dubbed the Widowers. Numbering one-hundred fifty, the Widowers have taken to the practice of enslaving those they are able to abduct on their raids, for labor, breeding, even forcing them to participate in their raids in suicidal positions. All-around, the Confederation counts itself at a population teetering on the edge of three-hundred, only a third of the Safe Area, but still dwarfing your own population and those of other remote settlements in New York. He spins a tale of the group originating out of Ohio, but were pushed out of there after a bitter conflict with yet another large group - you dread to meet the men which managed to displace the likes of the Widowers. The prisoners are kept in custody, in case you have further questions - one is particularly troublesome, having attacked guards in an attempt to escape numerous times, and your cardinals suggest being done with him, either banishing him or taking his life, though the latter would go against most pious inklings, though as does torture. Morals must bend to the will of the Lord.

Your guards, along with some of your more well spoken and learned parishioners, go to give condolences to the kin of the fallen. They speak to the deceased Nomads' and soldiers' loved ones, and some are more generous with their thanks than others, including an older woman, made a widow by her husband's death during the initial fall of the world and now made to grieve again on behalf of her son, one of two National Guardsmen who lost their lives in the battle this morning. The woman invited your people in and spoke with them for several hours about your teachings, concluding with saying she'd strongly consider moving out to your commune. However, the families of the fishers killed, those of Bigby and Morgan, refuse to speak with your men about their suffering. They are known to be a private bunch.

You dispatch dignitaries into the forest, to try and make peace with the woodsfolk. After coming upon a group of seven of them, your scouts report their shouting obscenities, seeming gibberish, and the shaking of their weapons, demanding that your people leave the area. After some more heated discussion which led nowhere, the savages upped their weapons - in self-defense, your paladins slew them all, while only incurring some minor wounds themselves - two of your men were shot in their extremities, and one was grazed across the top of the scalp. He won't be winning any Best Hair awards.

Peace, it seems, won't be an option.

You personally head to the Trader's Den. As reported, it is closed, and a large crowd has appeared demanding to know why - apparently, they'd out there since five in the morning, and it was now midday. You find and talk to William Wallace, the man in charge at the Trader's Den. He is a tall colored man who is always wearing nice clothes, talks with the nicest of niceties and generally conducts himself as a businessman. Some say he is the wealthiest, in terms of material wealth, in the Safe Area, and wields a high degree of secretive power due to his organization's economic weight.

Spoiler: Emerald Only

"Syprus, it is good to see you, brother. I know that your people do much trade with mine, but the closure today is out of my hands,"

Spoiler: Emerald Only

Wallace explains, before getting a bit closer, to tell you something personally. "The Armory has convinced the Constabulary that we shouldn't be trading in high firepower, and they closed us down today to take an inventory. They may try to...disarm me," Wallace explains with malice. Though he doesn't say it, the implication is clear -- he will not be easily disarmed.

 

[Trektek]

NY Safe Area

New Kingsland

Turn 1

Lord Isaiah Holloway sat in his study drinking some Manashavitz wine that they had found a numerous cases on in one of the vineyards. It was a grape wine with a tart taste. Not something most people would like, but something that he had found to be a taste that he had acquired. Plus, it would be something that he and his people down the line might have a much easier time crafting than other more involved wines.

So for now, he merely sat down in an almost opulent Large, Red, Comfy chair that looked as though it was something that would have cost a fortune, but in reality, it was a mere reproduction of an actual improved version of that kind of chair. A pale imitation, but in some cases it was far better to have the outward look be better than actuality.

That was part of how he planned to gain more followers. That was how he planned to expand his Kingdom. As long as he looked as though he knew what he was doing, as long as those around him helped project that aura and authority, then greater rewards would follow as they truly became that which others believed.

Lord Holloway was reading through some recent documents on the going ons of his territory, which included serf production of farm goods, barbarian sightings and engagements, ammunition allotment to the troops, and any illnesses that might be plaguing his people.

Barbarians. Ugh. How he hated them. At least have the honor to join a proper faction that he could outmaneuver. He shall have to make an example of them. Calling forth Reginald Barkley, one of his Knight Commanders, he had the man choose 5 Knights on Horseback sent to Andrew Wilson to continue to assist him in order to complete the bargain. We are an honorable people and complete what is owed.

The news from the scout about an abandoned neighborhood to expand to that is not only safe, but free of squatters sounded almost too good to be true. Especially as it would make a defensible bulwark and a tall sentry. Immediately he had the Knight Commander send out 2 Knights along with 10 Soldiers and some masons to secure the location and turn it into a fortress that would be worthy of their cause.

The Trader’s Den being closed was unfortuitous and something that would not stand. They acquired things from there that they could not on a regular basis. But if they did not want HIS trade, then he would secure what he wanted for himself. They would set up a system of gathering water from the coast and then making it potable. In addition, they would craft improved water catchers for when it rains throughout his kingdom so that they could acquire even more fresh water for drinking.

The Constabulary. They were someone who attempted to project power, but even then was doing a rather pisspoor version of it. They were clearly someone that would not last, this was shown by the fact that they were asking for ammunition from the various clans, groups and organizations and then even offer for volunteers to serve in the local garrison.

This was something that could work towards their advantage. He could have his own people on the inside. All the more easy to acquire more goods once the true fall of the constabulary would begin.

Lord Isiah would tell the constabulary that while they were unable to give much in the way of bullets, due in no small part to recent barbarian incursions into their lands, but that they would more than be willing to send a dozen soldiers for the month. With the caveat that if after the month the barbarian incursions were dealt with, that ammunition would be given once the soldiers are returned home.

Things were falling into place and now he would need to keep a greater eye on how they played out.

 

[Obsidian]

Spoiler: GM Only

*To be continued when Syprus returns*

~~~

The ministers tell the lady that she, and anyone else, would be gladly welcomed in Sacred Heights. She is cautioned, however, that life outside of the Safe Zones is not easy, and everyone must do their part of the Lord's work. But at Sacred Heights she would be welcomed by all, and treated like family. The ministers give a short prayer for the Lord to watch over the living and embrace the dead before taking their leave.

While the ministers attempt to offer comfort to the fisher families is roundly rejected, they do at least try offer another service. It was once the place of the Holy Church to preside over matters of civil discord as mediators, and attempt to find a lasting peace between feuding peoples. The ministers now offer this to the fishers, to help them settle their differences not just for their own sakes, but for their communities and the wider Safe Zones as a whole. Should they ever wish to accept this service, the Reformation would gladly grant it. And being a group outside the Safe Zones, the Reformation have no vested interests in the outcome. With those words, the ministers leave the fishers in peace, with their invitation to seek their counsil remaining open.

~~~

In accordance with the Herald's orders, his people are to retreat back to Sacred Heights. While being unable to secure peace is certainly regretable, the matter must now be resolved through more direct methods. The Reformation needs the resources of the woodlands, and they cannot back down now. The people of Sacred Heights find themselves before an enemy that will not accept peace, only war, and are hardened by it.

When the Herald returns, he must see this threat ended, by the only means now available to him.

~~~

Spoiler: GM Only

Finding this situation deeply unfortunate, with two powerful factions against one, and on the eve of war with the marauders. If this goes any further it could mean civil war. That cannot be allowed to happen.

"I suspect this all has to do with the Marauders. The attack and their fear must have driven the Armoury and the Constabulary into this rash action." The Herald surmises. "William, if I... convince the Armoury and the Constabulary to back down, allowing you to reopen the Den, would you be able to convince the Nomads to commit their people to the fight against the marauders?"

With this move, Syprus is pushing Sacred Heights into ever deeper relations with the Safe Zones, during a time when his people desired greater autonomy. But like it or not, the marauders are too great a threat for the Reformation to deal with alone. It may even come to it that Syprus must formally join the Safe Zones, and accept the authority of the Civilian Administration.

 

[Lord Bradorian]

General (Kingsland & Sacred Heights)
You receive a radio transmission at your base of operations. The voice on the end, as always, is Jacob Draco. This time, he has a lot to say.

"Hello, Citizens. It is that time again for a fireside chat with me, Chairman Draco. It seems events have been quite grim. We have had deaths so ugly and unnecessary, one must wonder just what could be going on. Obviously some events are beyond our control. The senseless deaths of the Nomads comes to mind, though I am glad to know forces were at least able to respond. My heart goes out to those close to the fallen and injured. May those who can, make a swift recovery free of issues. Let us talk about the bigger issue. The Fishing Incident. I have proposed that the government place those trawlers under control of the Committee of Public Safety. Audacious, I know and perhaps I seem like a jackal picking at the dead. This is not the case. I am ENRAGED. Those deaths were STUPID. And the fault of a government that could not establish more firm handle on food production. Compeition? At this time? When food seems so tight? Instead of two fully manned fishing ships, what do we have? Dead bodies. Shameful and idiotic. The owners of the vessels are just as responsible, if not more so than the government, but all that spilled blood is still on their hands. I have no choice but to broadcast my request publicly, before the government tries to lie to you and say I'm trying to do something diabolical. The Committee of Public Safety is here for YOU. And that means bringing order when needed. We control bay access and docks. It is only sensible I request those ships to crew. The ship owners have PROVEN they do not have YOUR interests at heart. It is time for people with a concept of responsibility to take those ships and aid in keep ALL of the Safe Zone fed. Think on this, Citizens and lets your local officials know that Chairman Draco is looking out for you."

New Kingsland Trektek
You discuss Draco's transmission in your great hall with your consorts. The consensus is thus; you should be wary, but Draco speaks the truth. It may be profitable to back him, in an effort to gain some licenses in a reformed fishing industry. Not only would this secure a food supply for yourself, but also give you a steady income of trade goods.

Knights, soldiers and builders are dispatched to fulfill your obligations with Andrew and to secure the neighborhood. You also begin construction of an improvised aqueduct leading from the coast. You decided that the extensive project and commitment of labor was preferable to the consequences which may come of illegally accessing the government stream. You also deny the Constabulary any of your ammunition, but provide them with a dozen of your soldiers to serve at the Garrison, suggesting you may fulfill the request for ammo after your men's deployment has come to an end.

Spoiler: Trektek Only

You receive news from your hunters. While out on their daily expedition, they witnessed something unfortunate - some armed men, believed to be warriors of the Sacred Heights, the lands of the Reformation outside the Safe Area in Albany, encountered a group of savages native to the woods. After a lapse in communication, the cultists defeated the woodsfolk decisively, killing all seven of them and looting their corpses, before leaving them to rot. Your men staked out the scene, and about a half hour later, a team of constables and soldiers arrived to investigate, and began following the cultists' tracks. Your hunters then departed to return with the news.

Sacred Heights Obsidian
The woman duly takes your advice into consideration.

The Bigby and Morgan gangs seem uninterested in having you mediate their vendetta, but the offer stands.

You call for a war council, and your temple hall fills with scores of your parishioners, cardinals, missionaries, your two bishops attend, and so on. Most of your men suggest sending several squads into the forest to smoke the savages out, while some suggest sending one large force, citing strength in numbers. Though, this would undoubtedly turn into several days' effort -- the forest is vast, and with all your might in combination, you wouldn't cover as much ground. A minority wishes to continue trying to make contact with the woodsfolk, unwilling to believe that the time for talk has passed.

Your council continues discussion unto Draco's transmission about the fishing industry. Most of your deacons are approving of Jacob's ideas, but some warn caution, as Draco's ambitions for power are well-known.

Spoiler: Emerald Only

Your conversation at the Den continues. "Well...That'd be great, Syprus, but I don't see that happening. You're a persuasive guy, and you have some influence here, for sure, but when Tellerman and Josiah make up their mind..." Wallace tells you, scratching his neck.

Colonel Josiah Wells is the commanding officer of the Armory and commander at the Garrison. He was second-in-command to Colonel Quentin Reilly, the military-governor whom was deposed in favor of the Constabulary's rule.

 

[AlwaysCrashing]

Awakening to the sounds of ‘karmis’ slaughtering each other has become a recent occurrence as of late and this willful ignorance never ceased to irritate Satguru Amaruna. When would they learn that their obdurate attachment to maya (the illusionary nature of the material world and its sensual pleasures) was at the root of these collective conflicts? If only they would realize that his teachings were the only way to attain eternal bliss and freedom from all miseries. His mind drifted to a humorous comparison his late teacher Gopala Acharya Rāhula once shared; Rāhula relayed to his students that one should conceptualize a ‘karmi’ as a stubborn ass because much like a donkey goes about its day indulging in its base urges without considering the divine, so too does a ‘karmi’.

With the recent eruption of violence, he had no choice but to convene the Sangha (his ecclesiastic council comprised exclusively by men appointed by himself that hold the title of Swami) before midday Darshan (worship service) could commence. Satguru Amaruna sat on his ornate throne that was positioned on the uppermost platform of a two-tiered stage; within the theology of the Eternal Bliss Congregation, one would be committing a heinous crime if they were to dare stand above the Perfect Master. A ramp leads up the stage to the throne where during Darshan devotees would crawl up the ramp and engage in Pranāma (prostration) before their Living God; after all, it is considered great privilege to be able to worship at the Lotus Feet of most powerful manifestation of the Divine.

As the Swamis that comprise the Sangha begin congregating into the throne room, they would prostrate themselves on the lower level awaiting their Satguru’s command to rise. After a few minutes spent demonstrating proper supplication Amaruna gives the command for his council members to rise and attend to pressing matters.

Swami Hiranyaroman is the first to address his Satguru and the assembled Sangha. He is sturdy man with a shaved head who is in his early forties; he is clad in a terracotta brown robe. He relays the harrowing situation regarding the Trader's Den in a detail-oriented manner, leaving no room for embellishment.

Amaruna mulls over the issue before speaking “I have long taught that craziness, misery, and suffering are tell-tale symptoms of a diseased world that has yet to embrace my Knowledge. It is of little surprise that these traders driven solely by profit are not above denying their fellow brothers and sisters access to vital services at such a trying time. With this impromptu trader embargo ongoing there exists a potential for us to elucidate the true path to those who are suffering most; maya and those that propagate it fail to nourish them, but my Knowledge will fill them. Position devotees around the Trader’s Den. Have them preach my message and distribute alms to the poor.“

Pausing Satguru turns his attention to Swami Mitravarcas. Swami Mitravarcas is a tall and lean man in his mid-thirties. His long, wavy hair is tied in a topknot and wears an olive green robe. Before the nukes fell the lanky Swami was a reputable horticulturist, now he is in charge of the various agricultural projects in Shambala.

“Swami Mitravarcas in your learned opinion how do you think this trade stoppage effects our ability to support the Congregation? In your humble estimation do we have enough staple crops saved to sustain ourselves in case of a prolonged shut down. I am also eagerly awaiting your report on the recent poppy harvest. Were able to extract any opium from the poppy pods?”
After mulling over Swami Mitravarcas’ response two younger gurus in their early twenties Swami Barhin & Swami Vataki begin once again discussing the possibility of sending devotees to open up lines of communication with the heathens in Sacred Heights. It is apparent that the vigor of youth makes them headstrong with something to prove.

Amaruna silently considers the proposition for a few minutes before responding “The spreading of my wisdom is the primary service of every devotee. One can do more service to humanity by realizing this undeniable truth. There is indeed much to gain by reaching out to these heathens even if it is knowledge in regards to the depths of the depravity. I trust you two will with my blessings organize an expedition to reach out to this Syprus character and his sect. ”

 

[Obsidian]

Spoiler: GM Only

"Where there is the Lord's will, there is the Lord's way." Syprus returns to William. "I will do what I can. Pray for me that my efforts be enough."

~~~

Now knowing what has befallen the Den, Syprus gathers his guards have heads back to Sacred Heights. There, he learns all that has transpired in his absence.

"You did WHAT?!" The Herald bawls at his Cardinals, positively mystified. "I gave you strict orders NOT to torture the prisoners! They were to be...!"

The Herald had to stop himself in his temper, unable to believe his followers would act so... sinfully. He must learn from this, be more cautious in his trust in his subordinates. After restraining his temper, he turned back to his Cardinals.

"I... understand why you chose to do this, but understand this as well. We are here to save the souls of mankind, not destroy them." Syprus reminds his Cardinals. "We could have used those three to spread conversion amongst the marauders, remind them that they were once civilised men. Now that is no longer an option. Repent before the Lord and pray for forgiveness for you sins. And I implore you all, endeavour to act with greater wisdom in future. The prisoners can no longer be of use to us. I will offer them to the Garrison, should they wish to question them."

~~~

With the matter of the prisoners decided, the Herald now turns to greater concerns. The Den.

Taking pen and paper, the Herald takes to writing to the head of the Garrison, Colonel Wells.

Dear Colonel Wells,

It has come to my attention that the Constabulary, at your behest, have embargoed the Trader's Den. I humbly ask that you reverse this policy, but I do not ask this without offering something in return. I know this measure you have taken was not done out of spite, but to gather resources for the war to come against the Marauders, to protect the Safe Zones in the long term through short term sacrifices. The Marauders are a threat to us all, and we cannot stand divided when facing such an enemy. In that spirit, I formally pledge the forces of the Reformation to the cause against the Marauders. More than that, I have also received intelligence on the location of a Marauder base. If we strike it with a combined force, we can deal a bloody blow to the Marauders, one they will not soon recover from. The prisoners from which we acquired our intelligence may be yours, should you wish for them. You may yet be able to learn more than what we could.

Moreover, after talks with the Traders, I have secured their own alliance with us, pledging the Nomads to our cause, should you lift the embargo. Not to mention that the Traders Den has supplies that we need, as they do for other factions. I am sure lifting the embargo would go a long way to garnering the generosity of these factions, and their support in the war.

Please consider my offer, and act in accordance to your wisdom.

Yours Respectfully,

Syprus Hayes

Syprus also ensures that all the proper honorifics and formalities are included in a proper and respectful address to a superior officer. He hopes this deference would go some way to garner the goodwill of the Colonel. With the letter complete, he trusts it to a messager and sends them to the Armoury in the Safe Zone. He prays the Colonel will listen to reason.

~~~

You call for a war council, and your temple hall fills with scores of your parishioners, cardinals, missionaries, your two bishops attend, and so on. Most of your men suggest sending several squads into the forest to smoke the savages out, while some suggest sending one large force, citing strength in numbers. Though, this would undoubtedly turn into several days' effort -- the forest is vast, and with all your might in combination, you wouldn't cover as much ground. A minority wishes to continue trying to make contact with the woodsfolk, unwilling to believe that the time for talk has passed.

The Herald decides upon the first plan, splitting up his forces and attacking with speed and shock value. It is important that the threat be dealt with swiftly, before the woodsmen can mount a more hardened defense. The previous battle put the Reformation at the advantage. They must act now if they wish to keep their edge.

This is not the first time Syprus has had to hunt down an enemy as part of a military operation. He did much the same for the Tyranny before their fall, and has spent the past year training his people for situations like this one. Syprus wishes himself to be a man of peace, but men of peace must also prepare for war, especially when he lives outside the Safe Zones. One cannot ever sleep too soundly out here. The Reformation does not have the Armoury or the Constabulary to protect them. Self-reliance; that is the harsh, cold reality for people out here.

Whatever may come from this battle, the conflict will be at an end.

The Herald organises his people into three strike teams, two teams headed by his heavy ex-Tyranny soldiers while Syprus heads the third team personally, and each team is supported by scouts tasked with staying hidden, spotting the enemy, and fielding enemy intelligence back to the team for target elimination. Each team has strict shoot-to-kill orders. The woodsmen have denied all attempts at peace or even dialogue, so their threat to the Reformation must be eliminated quickly and thoroughly.

Before leaving for battle, the Herald asks the Nuns of Sacred Heights to prepare to receive the wounded. Syprus can only pray that the Lord will watch over them and protect them in the upcoming fight, and he prays that he does not need to bury too many of his fellows this day.

After making all the preparations he can in the time he has, Syprus and his teams head out to the woodlands.

~~~

Your council continues discussion unto Draco's transmission about the fishing industry. Most of your deacons are approving of Jacob's ideas, but some warn caution, as Draco's ambitions for power are well-known.

When he heard it, the Herald stood unmoved by the 'Chairman's' broadcast. Not that this is a matter he can weigh in on, one way or another. Being a leader with no formal standing in the Safe Zones at this time, Syprus has no real voice in their politics. Not yet, at least.

Maybe one day that will change, but for now the Herald's opinion on the Chairman remains his own.

 

[Lord Bradorian]

Shambala AlwaysCrashing
The Sangha convenes. Your Swamis arrive, though in some disorder and dishevelment, in their finest robes, and spare no flourish in their providing you with the required formalities. Once business is got down to, you disseminate your will swiftly.

A group of your believers set out to the Safe Area as heralds of the Perfect Master's coming, and preach your word by the Trader's Den, as well as to give some charity to the disadvantaged, of which there is no shortage by the city. You've sent preachers there before, and though they've been subjected to dirty looks at and wary glances, no harm has befell them before. Though, they haven't had much luck yet in converting the people. The acceptance of the one true Master is too much for many man's fragile ego to bear - he must be brought low to be raised high.

Swami Mitravarcas bows his head, and you can tell it is not good news about the poppy seeds. "Satguru, unfortunately we were only able to extract a limited amount of opium from the poppy seeds. We'll have to wait until next bloom to try again...there is not enough time left in autumn for another batch. Might I suggest you keep what we managed to reap as your own personal...imbibement?"

Your Swamis are delighted that you've finally relented to send missionaries to Sacred Heights. Though they share your disdain for their wayward beliefs, they are overtly curious about the strange religion the Herald teaches. And, the cultists at Sacred Heights are may be more malleable to conversion than those to be found in the Safe Area, due to their dabbling in religious extremes.

 

[Crocodile]

Chairman Draco didn't feel foolish. He felt disappointed. This was what happened with revolutions. Idiots got into positions of power for simply having fought for the winning side. He calmly walks up to Sgt. Walker before he departs and pats his cheek with a cold smile.

"Thank you for reminding me about your lack of initiative, Sergeant. Its a fine reminder of how the new government works."

Chairman Draco will go talk to Tellerman, if only to use it as more ammunition for his gambit. Being turned down is just more he has to work with.

 

[Lazaro1505]

“… multiple bullet wounds to the stomach and chest, likely some damage to internal organs.” James Gunderson mentioned as he was currently inspecting a man’s wounds currently on a medical table while wearing blue gloves and a medical mask. This was none other than one of the soldiers that was admitted into the hospital earlier today. James was attempting his best in order to even begin stabilizing the man with what he had at hand. It doesn’t help that he didn’t have the luxuries of what a hospital would usually have a couple years ago, left preforming a procedure that may as well be nearly impossible now… but it still meant there was a chance to save the patient, so he may as well spend the resources to do such in order to keep them alive. However, despite how much he had attempted to remove the bullets and tried to stitch up the wounds… his efforts were in vain, seeing the patient had died from his wounds. James could only look down at the corpse with a saddened look on his face… yet another life lost… James taking off his gloves and mask as he then went ahead to close the soldier’s eyes, standing in silence for a few moments.

But he couldn’t stay here forever, there was other patients that required help as well, as James went ahead to exit the room and begin walking down the hallway. It was almost empty other than the few guards not sent on collecting some antibiotics from the trader’s den patrolling the hallways with the occasional doctor or nurse exiting a room to go collect something. One of them made their way to him. “James, we managed to successfully stabilize one of the patients, but they are paralyzed from the waist down. We are unsure if she can even walk ever again.” It wasn’t entirely uncommon to hear of such, but James did worry a bit for the person’s care. Some others within this world would may as well throw out someone who isn’t capable of providing some value to their groups, and such would make it difficult for them to do such as well. But James just gave a small sigh, as he then said “It’s better that they are alive than dead… and if they ever consider throwing them out, we can just bring them back in to take care of them until then.” As he continued walking down the hall in order to enter another room and do his work there.

Sometime later, James was currently in his office, sitting on a scratched wooden chair as he began reading some papers which detailed the medical conditions of some of the patients here within the Lenox hill hospital only to look up when seeing someone enter his office, one of the constables. “ah, come in, come in, do make yourself comfortable here. I would usually have offer some tea to you, but I haven’t prepared any currently due to the workload today.” James said in a polite tone as he then referred to the chair right in front of his desk, before learning more of what was needed. That made him think more regarding such… he was unsure as to whether or not he should be making the shipments to the Constabulary. After all, there isn’t a infinite supply of medicine here, especially since some of which couldn’t even be produced anymore in this time and age. Some of such are needed for those that require treatment here, he was even unsure as to what the purpose of such medicines would be. While he did appreciate the shipment of medical supplies here, he was somewhat worried if he did accept the request and have them be stationed here in the hospital. What if he was unable to supply anymore to them due to holding it in reserve for patients in the future?

But he just gave a small sigh… for now, perhaps it’s best to not be afraid of every single thing and instead lend forth the hand of trust in order to try and make a safer and kinder future for humanity as a whole. “Very well then, I believe we can spare about 25 bullets for you to use. And as for the shipments, it is considered, but do note that if we are in low supply of such sometime in the future, we would be reserving it for any patient that requires it and prioritize those that require it first instead of solely handing it out to you. That’s not to say that some of you wouldn’t receive it if supplies are low, but that we may be unable to spare as much as some of it needs to be used for everyone else as well.”

 

[AlwaysCrashing]

Milk of the Poppy

Satguru Amaruna smiles. “Swami Mitravarcas you are truly a rare embodiment of both spiritual service and generosity. The relationship between the Satguru and His devotees is reciprocal; a devotee should always be eager to offer service to Him. Convey my blessings to all those who labored to deliver this yield; it may be small, but it is a preview of what can be accomplished through the application of devotion. I graciously accept your tribute.”

Mid-Morning Darshan

The ringing of bells around Shambala alerts it residence that worship service is commencing As the Darshan commences the sound of traditional worship instruments fills the air (mrdanga drums, kartals (hand cymbals), sitars, sarangis, harmoniums (small hand-pumped organs), and tambourines) thereby creating a meditative atmosphere that sets the tone for the spiritual journey ahead. The Congregation joins in a collective bhajan (devotional song) entitled "He's the Sun Behind the Sun" dedicated to their Satguru. As the chanting subsides, one by one, each devotee crawls up the ramp to the ornate throne where Amaruna is seated in order to perform Pranāma. To a believer the act of surrendering oneself at the Lotus Feet of their Living God is one of the most powerful displays of devotion one can do in this lifetime; to an outsider this would be a melodramatic affair replete with an overabundance of tears and fainting spells. The Pranāma is followed by silent meditation, during which the faithful seek to not only clear their minds, but to also open their hearts to receive the wisdom of Amaruna. Darshan continues with a bhajan that has become a staple of the organization, "I Surrender To My Satguru".

After the bhajan ceases one of the seven Swamis, who are seated on the second layer of the tiered stage rises and delivers a reading from one of the plethora of texts penned by the late Gopala Acharya Rāhula. Today’s reading concerns how one can overcome māyā’s influence, in the text Rāhula posits that only a pure devotee can truly be freed from the clutches of material desire. After the reading of the text the Swami would return to his seat and Satguru Amaruna rises from his throne to elucidate his Knowledge to those assembled.

“Gopala Acharya Rāhula was a man filled with much wisdom, compassion, and vision; it is through his tireless efforts that Shambala, the sacred settlement where we find ourselves today was able to be founded. He was always an instrument of my will; his words and actions echoed my pure desires. When I took human form once again, the magnitude of māyā’s stranglehold over the world blinded me to my innate perfection; however, I had the foresight to have Rāhula reincarnate in this time in order to instruct me on how to dispel this blindness. As I have said many times pure devotion to the perfect master is the only way to counteract māyā. Māyā and the karma from engaging in it rots one’s spirit. Look at the rash of so-called mutants that being birthed as of late. These wretched creatures are the result of lifetimes of a specific soul engaging in māyā. Have you ever wondered why these abnormalities seem to occur in specific areas of the body. Deformity of the ears indicates those that heard my message in a past life yet refused to listen to it. Deformity of mouth is indicative of those that preached heresy in a prior incarnation. Deformity of the mind reveals one was egotistical in their thoughts and actions. We should not hate those suffer from these afflictions as it is never too late for one to accept Me, but we should use them as an example to those that refuse to give up their materialistic way of life. Through My Grace members of the Congregation who are pure in spirit have not been burdened with carrying a deformed infant to term; I have laid My hands on the stomachs of many pregnant devotees, and they miraculously delivered healthy children. Only through Me alone can one truly be safe from the malignancy that is at the root of this darkened world.”

Once Satguru is finished speaking thunderous displays of praise fills the temple. The devotees sing another round of “I Surrender To My Satguru” to conclude Darshan.

On the Matter of the Apostates

After the conclusion of Darshan Satguru Amaruna discreetly commands a man by the name of Abdullah to stay behind. Abdullah is not a resident of Shambala, but he is known in the community as a “fringer”, meaning that he is a remnant of a marauder group that once occupied the settlement. They comprise a small autonomous collective that exists on the outskirts of the settlement proper hence the term “fringer”; while they accept the claims regarding the divinity of the Satguru, they are not keen on abandoning their nomadic ways or truly embracing the austere life of devotees. The Eternal Bliss Congregation drove off most of these raiders, but Amaruna (prior to ascending to Satguru) managed to convince a small spattering of them to adopt some of the Congregation’s teachings chief among these converts was their leader Abdullah. Abdullah is an extremely large man with a dark complexion; his brutality and misanthropic nature often precede him. Scars of various depths adorn his body a testament to his resiliency. However, out of all the “fringers” Abdullah is the most devoted to his spiritual teacher; he whole heartly believes that Amaruna is the Living God. His loyalty is considered unshakable, though devotees look at him with suspicion considering his “fringer” status. He desires nothing more to be granted Swami status and be offered a place on the Sangha.

One they are alone Amaruna addresses his subordinate.

“Abdullah you have long served as My disciple, even before my apotheosis you’ve enforced My will without question. You were the first to answer My call. We have spoken many times about how during key points in your life I have appeared to you. Remember, the words of your dying grandmother during the firebombing of Asbury Park. She told you to pray to the God Most High for protection and I delivered what you asked. I know what you desire in your heart, and I am willing to grant your request. However, before I can do so I require one last test of loyalty. As you are aware the apostate Gaganna is traveling around the Safe Zones with his group of sectarians of preaching untruth about Me to the masses. The secular authorities refuse to deliver them to us for judgement and many within the Congregation believe that they can be brought back into fold. I know for certain that this is an impossibility. Abdullah, I ask that you and your fellow “fringers” once again act as vessels for my wrath. Find the apostate Gaganna and his wicked disciples, strike them down without mercy. Spare none. Leave what remains of their corpses for the birds. Take nothing from them except a wooden ring that Gaganna wears on his right hand; since it was a gift from Gopala Acharya Rāhula it is the only thing they carry that is not corrupted. Bring this ring to me as proof that they are purged. Do this in My Name and I can assure that you will have a seat on the Sangha.”

 

[Trektek]

NY Safe Area

New Kingsland

Turn 1- Part 2

Lord Isaiah Holloway sat in his study and listened to the radio transmission given by the leader of The Committee of Public Safety, Chairman Draco. For many moons, he had not truly known what to make of the man. Was he someone who would take action and seize the day? Or was he merely grabbing power from the masses as many had done before him?

This transmission has told him much. It told him that the Chairman was a possible ally in controlling the vast territories of New York. That perhaps together, they might seize the quantities of delicious and juicy lands and all the vessels and serfs that lay within it.

There was much and enough that they could split their good fortunes together. Now, he needed only to ask the man and see what he says. Surely a man of his vast intellect will see the fortuitous nature of what they can do together.

Calling forth his fastest rider, a letter was composed and sent to The Committee of Public Safety, addressed to The Chairman.

“Dearest Chairman Jacob Draco,

Your transmission has caught the attention of New Kingsland and we see the merit in your words. Such death was an absolute waste. Not just of the lives that were lost, but also in the now decreased passing of valuable food resources from the waters of the Tri-State Area.

The Barbarians have already shown themselves at the gates and it would be disastrous to fall from both without and within if it cannot be stopped.

It is as such that I wish to form an alliance with you. I am sure that each of us have valuable resources that we can both share in our endeavors and should things bend a certain way with our valuable government, I already have ways that can help us both.

As this letter is not secured enough, I will not say further about the matter here.

I do hope that you can send a representative to our fine doorsteps of The Kingdom soon enough and that we may begin a fruitful relationship together.

After all, there is plenty of land that we might divide together in pursuit of our goals.

Delightfully yours,
Lord Isiah Holloway”

—-----------------------------------------

Gavin Arterus, hunter and tracker extraordinaire had given the news of the most recent barbarian attacks. A group of cultists slaughtered by those Holy Crusaders. While they might have been applauded for dealing with such uncouth scum, they will have to be watched.

In the meantime, he was sent back with a squad of hunters to observe the members of Sacred Heights. He did not trust these “men of god” as they pronounced themselves in their shadow of actions.

And as he had told his Lord this, he was given task to observe and report. He would only engage should he be discovered and even then, try to not kill. But any information gathered would be valuable to the cause.

—-----------------------

Isabella Powers was one of the few female knights that had been fully trained and given a command over the soldiers. She knew what that meant to all of the people under her command. She needed to continue to prove herself. It was always harder.

So she knew that she would have to go above and beyond. But she was skilled and she was cunning. And that is why she was given the very dangerous task of securing the borders of their territory.

She was to guard the farmlands while Sentry towers for the “Archers” could maintain a watchful eye over the serfs while they worked to protect them from the many kinds of barbarians that would steal their crops or kill their workers.

To many, it would be considered boring work, but for Isabella, she knew how important it was in the grand scheme of things. An army marches on its stomach and in this world, food was much harder to come by than it had been in a long time.

With construction under way for the fresh water supplies, this food was now more important than ever to help grow their numbers.​

 

[Lord Bradorian]

Dracoberg Crocodile

Spoiler: Crocodile Only

Tellerman stares daggers into you for a long few seconds after you make your proposition. He then averts his gaze, peering at the floorboards, as if trying to spot someone hiding underneath, and rapping his knuckles unto his desk. It's clear the chief is thinking very carefully about he's going to reply. When he finally looks up at you and his lips part to speak, you are briefly dizzy, just for a split second, before regaining yourself. Not many men have this effect on the likes of you, but Chief Ethannuel Tellerman is not like many men. Though brash, ungenerous, stubborn and downright ugly, he exudes an aura of stoicism, wisdom, and authority. He is a charismatic leader. What he says, goes, oftentimes just because it sounds like it should. "Jacob, I need to see how this all plays out first," is all Ethan offers you. Clearly he refers to the mess on the water, but to leave no room for misinterpretation, you press him naturally. "This fucking mess is all one big fucking pimple, and it's coming to a head,' the Chief exclaims, spitting his words with venom. As redness fills his sagging cheeks, it is clear to you the matter has caused him great stress. "And when it does, sure, fine, you can have the unclaimed boats. I'll ALLOW it. But understand that I cannot just go and fucking repossess the boats from fucking James Morgan and Algernon Bigby for you," he starts to rant. Morgan and Bigby are both nasty individuals with mean reputations and sizeable coteries of loyal fishermen with similarly mean reputations - the fishing industry has always been competitive in the Safe Area, though more in recent months as fish become scarcer as winter approaches. The Safe Area's calendar is not perfect, known to dispute with the community's in Oswego, but you know it to be the first or second week of August. Though Tellerman no doubt posseses the multiplicity of force required to do this for you, repossess the boats, he is clearly unwilling. If you want them, you'll have to take them, going against the laws of the Constabulary. "And I will not - no, I cannot - intervene if Donelson or whoever wants to stay in the game. You either work with him, or work it out, but I won't have shootouts in the streets!" Tellerman tells you firmly, planting both his palms splayed out onto his desk, hunched over, once again staring his daggers. It seems he won't be involved if yet another fishing feud sparks, this time betwixt yourself and Donelson, but he also won't let you paint the town red in prosecution of said feud. An annoying middle ground. "Are we understanding eachother, here, Mr. Chairman?" he asks you. There is no tone in the way he addresses you, but you feel patronized by his use of your self-anointed title anyway.

Chief Tellerman has ruled that his officers will not intervene in future competition between your own and Donelson's fisheries, but will not allow for bloodshed within the Safe Area. Any settling of matters by such means must be done outside its' territory - or much like Morgan and Bigby, on the water. You find it unlikely that Donelson will agree to meet you in a pitched battle outside the safety of the garrisoned conurbation, and even unlikelier you can talk him down from his resistance. And so, naval action appears to be your only option, unless you were to engage in some sort of subterfuge. If Donelson were killed, another fishmonger may take his place, but they also may not - they may just come work for you. But in order to abide by the rules of Tellerman and Wallace put in place for prosecution of the feud, you'll have to make it look convincingly like a tragic accident...In terms of taking Donelson on in a naval engagement, you may be disadvantaged - it is known that his gang owns a large cabin cruiser, supported by several pontoon boats, and a litany of trawlers and dinghies. However, you see two avenues of approach when it comes to striking a balance - firstly, you could strike at Donelson's fleet at harbor in the night, however, it wouldn't be difficult to put the pieces together as to who was the saboteur, you being his known rival. Second, you could very likely leverage the fact that Tellerman and Wallace have ordered you to take the fight to the wastes or the water to have some vessels commissioned for you. Otherwise, you'd be forced to take the fight to their homes, in defense of yourself, Dracoberg's, and the Committee of Public Safety's interest. This is a very bold play. You will essentially be leaning on the two officials, and vaguely threatening insurrection, or atleast disobedience. But with the Marauders coming calling, and the danger of other factions' rising discontent, it is an offer they cannot likely refuse. However, you may want to wait until hostilities are closer - you've been made to wait until Algernon and James finish their conflict, before your own may ensue. Pushing Tellerman further than you already have by attempting to press his patrol boats into service may yield some lasting consequences to your relations with him, and others.

 

[Lord Bradorian]

Sacred Heights Obsidian
As the sun goes down, you and your forces move out to confront the woodsfolk on horseback. Armed with head torchlight, swords, some maces, and a variety of handguns, semiautomatic hunting and sporting rifles, as well as one M251 SAW Gunner in your fireteam. Your personal fireteam consists of all knights, apart from the SAW Gunner, who would not benefit from training in equestrianism, as he does not fight from horseback, only travel.

As you reach the woodline, your party hitches up their mounts to the several trees, and splits up to locate the enemy.

After about an hour passes, you see a flare fire off into the night sky, about a half mile away from you. You and your team begin to sprint in that direction, your head torches illuminating your path. As you close in, you hear gunfire erupt.

Shambala AlwaysCrashing
Mitravarcas bows, and some time later, all of your acolytes whom were involved in the poppy seeds extraction arrive to gift the small amount to you. Probably three sessions' worth, if you use it sparingly.

Your believers receive your sermon with politeness and are silent, but some are visibly having difficulty keeping their composure, nearly weeping with joy. Your words are very touching to most, as you all collectively lament the evil curses wrought on children from the aftermath of the fall.

One of your Swamis comes to you to inform you about a settlement called the Sanctuary, a home for mutant children, where a dozen mutants are said to be sheltered. The caretaker is one Amanda Bennet. Recently, they've been dealing with protests on the weekends - dissenters whom believe the children to be a bad omen, and should not be allowed to stay in the Safe Area. Your Swami suggests it may be prudent to reconnoiter this Sanctuary, and perhaps embed agents in the protests, to perhaps cultivate some influence amongst these protesting rabble.

Abdullah's face is stone as you address him, but his expression visibly softens, and the corners of his lips curve upward only a tad, as you promise him a seat on the Sangha if he successfully leads a pogrom against Gaganna and his minions. "Oh yes, Satguru. I had hoped you would choose me to be the one to burn the heretic! Would you like his head, or his ear, Master? Scalp? Or just the ring?"

 

[Obsidian]

As the sun goes down, you and your forces move out to confront the woodsfolk on horseback. Armed with head torchlight, swords, some maces, and a variety of handguns, semiautomatic hunting and sporting rifles, as well as one M559 SAW Gunner in your fireteam. Your personal fireteam consists of all knights, apart from the SAW Gunner, who would not benefit from training in equestrianism, as he does not fight from horseback, only travel.

As you reach the woodline, your party hitches up their mounts to the several trees, and splits up to locate the enemy.

After about an hour passes, you see a flare fire off into the night sky, about a half mile away from you. You and your team begin to sprint in that direction, your head torches illuminating your path. As you close in, you hear gunfire erupt.

As per operations protocol, the Herald sends forward scouts to spot enemy and friendly positions alike, to support allied forces and eliminate enemy forces. Scouts, once they spot friendlies on the battlefield, are to warn of the Herald's approach, share intelligence, and coordinate the elimination of the enemy. Meanwhile, the Herald's team trails behind the scouts, moving into the battlefield quickly but cautiously, readying to respond to reports and aggressive action alike.