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Post by Winters on Nov 21, 2015 12:22:51 GMT -5
You know the story. Bombs fell few hundred years ago, it happened. We didnt all die. Some looked to Boston, made a community out of an old baseball stadium, while others just hid themselves underground. For others, living out in the middle of nowhereville seemed to carry over, even in the middle of a nuclear wasteland. Hard getting caravans out there, so we really dont bother trying. Too far from any big settlements, anyways. But the biggest concern was in Warwick. Rumors have it the women are doing some strange things over the last few years. Starting fires with their mind, eternal life, its not natural. Books say witchcraft was big before the bombs fell, but were they here before that? All they have down there is irradiated water and weeds, yet they live, have been for the last fifteen years. Nobody knows why.
Thats why were going to get to the bottom of it, and were not going to let Bloodbugs and Mirelurks stop us. We just need a few capable hands to help with getting down there. Dont even tell them about the witches of Warwick, were just trying to establish a trade route to a homestead. Since the land is so barren, most of the homes were left unscavenged, and what was taken by Raiders was now left abandoned when they died off from the local wildlife. Thats why we need people. The Minutemen could help, it would be another settlement for them, but I think it would be better to look around more. Stories from a bar in Diamond City say they know a few people that would be up for it. Were meeting them tonight at the old east Boston fishery.
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Post by Winters on Dec 4, 2015 4:47:48 GMT -5
He spoke, ending his story on a conclusive note. Clive Mastersen had somewhat of a reputation for being on the road too long when it came to his stories. Every time he set up at the Inn, it was always the same stories. The only difference this time the place had been pretty full since the people who came to Diamond City didnt have to fear for their lives anymore. Not from the metal heads, at least, the normal dangerous still plagued the commonwealth. "Wow," said Trista, standing up from her seat. "Dont need to get these people riled up anymore than they usually are. Probably end up going off and getting killed by those same mirelurks."
Though he had seen this woman around before, and knew that she had a few stories of her own. Even had her time with Vault 31, but mostly formeed stories from her plasma rifle. Anybody down in the vault that long would have the time to work on it much as she did, and it was always shown off hanging from the side of her. Leaning in closer, Trista looked at him up close enough to smell the chems. "No thanks. But you actually make this caravan? You know where to find me. Im heading that way myself. That, and I know you have those mentats I like." With that, Trista got up and left, pushing through the door outside. Clive just watched, sipping back the rest of his bourbon, and sat almost immediately bored. It seemed other people in the Dugout Inn heard his story, because the glanced he had gotten told what he needed to know. They knew he was just a chem junkie telling stories and trying to deal. Nobody ever believed him.
"I roam around around around..." Clive sang to himself, brushing off the turndown from the freckled faced woman. The Dugout that been one of the only places where he could sit and listen to Diamond City Radio in peace. The eyebot that floated around played it, but it was mostly updates for the locals. Plus it was night time, and it was charging at the radio station. Maybe once he got kicked out of here, Clive could pack his things and try his luck in Goodneighbor. The people there might listen to him, being around much longer than him.
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Post by Dark Nomad on Dec 6, 2015 1:18:23 GMT -5
Lance Lionheart sat in the bar in Diamond City he normally sat in to acquire jobs. Usually it was caravans looking for a hired gun to help them go around the Commonwealth before returning to the city with a wallet full of caps. This time the seasoned merc was helping set up a trade route. Usually this was a job for the Sixty Second Soldiers, but Lance couldn't pass up this amount of caps just because it meant walking home on his own.
He sat with his legs on the table and sipped at his beer as he waited for his new customers to walk through the door. His laser rifle was on the table but on his hip was a heavily modified and silenced 10mm pistol. He wasn't exactly someone you could mess with and get away with it. A nice battlecoat, something a prewar general might have worn, was worn over army fatigues. The shirt was missing it's sleeves but no one could tell unless he removed his battlecoat. Tied around his right arm is a prewar American flag. He definitely had the look of a soldier.
The only thing that made him stand out was that he was a ghoul. Though ghouls weren't an oddity in Diamond City, they were about to be if McDonough was elected. His campaign was all about banning the ghouls. Not once did the bastard mention the synths. Lance didn't trust him because of that. He could still remember the synth that attacked around 50 years ago. Mr. Carter, the robo bastard. Lance didn't trust them but knew that some, like Nick Valentine, could be good people. It was a rough line to try and draw so Lance played each case one at a time. He even had a little time invested into the Railroad, or as he liked to call them: the Trainyard. He never called anything by its real name.
"When is this smoothskin party gonna start?" He said from his little corner. Another job this soon after getting back would be a blessing. He had just gotten back from one caravan run so another this quick would be perfect.
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Post by Winters on Dec 6, 2015 12:13:26 GMT -5
Now about this time, Clive had been getting to the point where he could barely stand up, the alcahol hitting him like a ton of bricks. Chems were his thing, this not so much, so it was a little bit out of the norm. But he didnt slur his words, and didnt draw anymore attention after the hype from his story faded, thankfully. He kept eyeing Brosnov, making a gesture that told him 'please dont make me leave, im not bothering anybody.' It was a look all too well known, and usually he didnt have to follow up, things were generally quiet aside from a fight or two.
But this time, somebody responded, even after he was finished the whole sales pitch. It was a ghoul, too, but he looked plenty intimidating, and that was good enough for him. That and the smoothskin party joke really hit his good side. Probably only because he was intoxicated, but he usually was. "I was heading out yesterday. Then today came. Now its almost tomorrow. So, your guess is as good as mine. Unless youre all I need. Are you all I need?" Clive rambled to the ghoul, trying to be professional and down to the point, but he was failing miserably. There was no way they were doing this with just the two of them, they would need at least a third. Lone caravaneers always traveled with two hired guns, its just how things were. If not hired guns, then somebody who at least knew the area more than himself. A ghoul would have that covered, at least, but by the looks of the guy, he also had the hired gun part covered too.
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Post by JDrew25 on Dec 7, 2015 20:25:29 GMT -5
Chloe had just gotten into town, waving to the other travelers that had come this far with her as they scattered, all trying to find their own lodging for the night. She knew of a few places where she could hang her hat, if she had one. Right now, with a few caps and enough firepower to keep the other scavengers away, she made a beeline for the best bar in Diamond City. It looks like a fair amount of people had already made their way to the water hole, and some people were looking to either get themselves rich, or get themselves dead.
"So, someone looking for a caravan guard?"
She didn't look like much, simply a small pale skinned woman in the jumpsuit of a vault dweller. The 10mm pistol on her hip, and the service rifle over her shoulder letting people know she traveled with enough firepower to keep herself and others safe. Her ruck sack was small, but bulging with her supplies. She gave the bar a once-over, and she found herself a seat in the corner, letting people watch her while she watched them.
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Post by Dark Nomad on Dec 10, 2015 2:03:09 GMT -5
If Lance still had hair where his eyebrows were it would have been easier to spot but while Clive spoke, the more weirded out Lance got. Which was saying something since he was a ghoul and most people were weirded out by him. "Woah chief, keep it in your pants. I ain't that kind of ghoul. I know of some who are like that if that's what you really want." Lance said as he stayed where he was. He wasn't too eager to get a move on with this drunk. Hell, if he kept it up and made Lance angry, he would be easy to rob outside of the walls.
It was odd how built for this world Lance was. Prewar ghoul who had military training before the bombs fell. Unfortunately he wasn't in a vault when the bombs fell and so ghoulification was his prize. Better than death he always said. Unlike some who hated being a ghoul, he felt it was a gift.
As soon as he was done talking though, another caravan guard walked in. He knew her from being around but never worked with her. She looked like she wanted to be from a vault, and might have been. Lance never cared for that look since it would be a joke for him to wear such an item.
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Post by Winters on Dec 10, 2015 12:22:11 GMT -5
Too wasted to even care. Clive just shrugged it off, not getting any riled up at the misconception. That was when the blue suited woman walked in. Was hard to miss, but at least it made the faces that much more memorable. This one was around every now and then, but Clive never bothered with a name. Vault Dweller seemed to have a nice ring to it, but hed never openly say it. There were a handful of vaults around the area, but only one of them had been operated by actual Vault Dwellers. The rest were abandoned or overtaken by raiders, or gunners depending on who owned the territory at the time. Super Mutants might have tried if they knew how to open and close the doors.
Thinking about it a little more now, there had been a chance that the other vault dweller and this one knew each other. It wouldnt hurt to ask. Once he stood up, however, Clive found himself stumbling to the side and crashing down onto the table. Two empty bottles and a shot glass shattered on the floor, managing to hit the hard part of the wooden planks. "Not again." Bosrov threw the dishrag down, and walked out into the bar from behind the counter. His cousin had been watching the bar to make sure nobody tried to steal any drinks, but it was Bosrov who seemed to care about the drunkard and getting him to bed personally. It was him that organized the deliveries of his moonshine.
Clive, now up on his feet with the aid of the barkeep, found himself walking towards the first room at the back like usual. Thankful for the hospitality of Bosrov, he did find the time to pass by the vault dweller and bark out a few words. "Come on, tell her its a good idea. Come on." he spoke out, implying that he wanted them both to tag along, assuming they did know each other. But the thought was quickly out of his mind when he was laying down on the bed, and quickly passed out.
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Post by JDrew25 on Dec 10, 2015 15:10:43 GMT -5
Chloe figured she was the one the drunken man had been talking about, and got to her feet as the man was helped along out of the room. Well, if she wanted to know more about this job and potentially get hired on, she was going to need to follow him and play catch up. The other hired gun may have known the information, but she preferred it from the source, that way there wasn't any miscommunications that are common with getting information secondhand.
"Alright, I'm on board. Didn't want to get to comfortable in town anyways."
She was glad she didn't have to wait long for a new job. This sounded like a long haul, and that meant lots of currency for her. Just the way she liked it.
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Post by Winters on Dec 31, 2015 13:30:56 GMT -5
Of the ones actually paying attention to Clives story, one one of them came forward after he was down for the count. Bosrov closed over the door so the sleep banter wouldnt bother anybody when things got a lot more quiet, but the female spoke out about the job. "You, vault geek? Sure, sure, whatever. Good luck getting him up, and even if you did, useless to you he would be. But if say you would be interested with this job, the competition is Bunker Hill. Not my place to get involved, just friendly advice. Clive here will be going there at sunrise. Maybe you meet him then, yes?"
It really wasnt his place to speak for the man, but Bosrov was fairly close to Clive, and knew what his plans would be. He comes here looking for strangers to help him, and then its back to Bunker Hill. It was less than a twenty minute walk, given you know how to navigate around the ruined streets of Boston. With how prepared the vault suit seemed to be, she would have no problems getting there. "By the way, Vault Geek, you just missed your friend." Bosrov spoke, referring to the other vault dweller that left the Inn not too long before Chloe arrived. He assumed they mustve known eachother, as they both had vault suits. Finally leaving to tend to the bar again. Luckily nobody had been trying to steal any drinks.
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Post by JDrew25 on Jan 11, 2016 21:48:30 GMT -5
"Hard to say if he was a friend. Those can be in short supply sometimes."
Chloe was ready for the trip, but understood she would have to speak to the other man once he was sober again and ready to talk. That wasn't a big problem. She would discuss payment and the details of the job in the morning, and could find lodging for the night easily enough.
"This place still got a room for rent? Or does a girl have to double up?"
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Post by Winters on Jan 12, 2016 0:57:05 GMT -5
"You are good for business, yes? You help out caravan trade, you stay here on the house. Good trade is hard to come by, and I reward up front." Bosrov spoke, nodding to the rooms. It was nearing the end of the night anyways, and there had been more people leaving then coming, or even staying, do he figured now would be a good time for his own drink. Pouring it for himself, Bosrov took another and poured one for the blue vault suit wearing female. "To hard work, and not getting robbed and killed!"
Bosrovs Best moonshine always hit the spot. He made a good stock of it for trade, but the best stuff had been here at the Dugout Inn. In a moment, the thick tongued man down the drink, and then grabbed the glass to wash it out immediately. Looking at the suit once again, he was starting to get a little curious himself. "Were you actually from a vault, or did you grab that suit from a corpse?"
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Post by JDrew25 on Jan 18, 2016 13:54:43 GMT -5
"This came from someone who didn't need it anymore, and my clothing was...less than appropriate for being outside."
Chloe didn't want to go into any further detail, she was just glad the corpse of the woman wearing the vault jumpsuit was relatively fresh, and was just about her size. It made things easy, considering most of the clothing she had at the time was ruined and barely covered anything it needed to. The spare ammunition had been a blessing as well.
"The room sounds great, I could use a decent nights sleep, a good bath, and then time to hit the road again, right?"
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Post by Winters on Jan 19, 2016 6:38:28 GMT -5
"Right, right. Nobody else stays here. Not tonight, always. Plenty time and noise for your stay. Ill be cleaning, as usual." Bobrov finished, finally getting back to work. He wasnt used to casual conversation like this, but the vault dweller hadnt caused any trouble, and wasnt so hard on the eyes, even for a wastelander. He was still grateful for her lending a hand with Mastersens caravan. It was been really hard keeping up lately, and this would be a good opportunity to get things moving again. Especially since Bobrovs Moonshine hadnt seen its way down there in a long time, it was just overall bad for business. They they could clear a route, it would work to his favor.
That night drove into the morning, and come shortly after sunrise, Bobrov had been finished cleaning and was about to get himself some shuteye just in time for his brother to wake up. But the short transition period was all it took. Soon as she checked in to see Clive hadnt vomited on the floor, he noticed the blood. It was already dry, and had been coming from around his mouth, which gave him only one thought as to what happened. It was an unfortunate turn of events, especially since it happened in his bar, but whoever did it mustve knew Clive had been carrying his caps on him because thats all that seemed to be taken. They couldve went for the .44 ammo, but didnt. Just the caps. What they werw probably owed.
His trade bag wasnt even undid, which meant whoever did this didnt even go through his personal belongings. It was hard to recollect when they had time to loot the caps, but his death had definitely been poison, something in his drink no doubt. Inside the bag of personal items was the maps he was writing, and they cut off once the highway ended in the swamps. Nothing down there, but past it was where they wouldve been going.
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Post by JDrew25 on Jan 21, 2016 11:59:09 GMT -5
With morning arriving, Chloe came down from the room she had been staying in, items packed and her rifle slung over her shoulder. She was ready to get moving, and was a bit surprised to see the caravan actually ready to move. She smiled, thinking everything was going to be easy for a change. She could handle a smooth run, versus having to fight off both the mutated animals and crazed irradiated people in the wastes.
She went back inside to let Bobrov know she was going to start making preparations to leave with the caravan, calling out to him in the mostly quiet inn.
"Bobrov? You around?"
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Post by Winters on Jan 25, 2016 23:37:52 GMT -5
He didnt even hear the blue leave, but did hear her when she came back and called out to him. Holding the map in his hand, Bobrov (Unsure if its Bobrov or Bosrov) turned with the rest of the stuff, exiting the room and laying the bag onto the bar counter. He waited for the blue to approach before dropping the bad news. "Hes not so good. Dead, last night. Im apologies for it, there was nothing I could have done more. But, his stuff, its yours. And here the map."
Bobrov lay the map on the counter too, exposing the front to show all of the routes. "Its your call. Take this all to Bunker Hill and let them deal with it, or finish what he started. You do this, I will pay you. For the route, I mean. My moonshine needs to flourish." He relished in the profit there would be if he could get the brother alcohol that far. But Bobrov was always happy knowing that at least all of the useful information hadn't beeing touched. "Either way, Bunker Hill. Youll find the ones that were suppose to go with him, im sure of it."
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