Coldshort's Company - Playground Options

[Dantrag]

OOC: not sure where the settlement is, so I conveniently left out details regarding it.

Keara

Keara held binoculars to her face with one hand, while the other rested on Lucky's head. She saw the settlement, but there was nothing to note. No movement, no nothing. It was quiet. She would have to get closer to know anything for sure, but Laura made it absolutely clear that she not move beyond the ridge she sat upon now.

Keara felt that she was being watched, but in the back of her mind, she knew it was Gramps peering at her through a scope from some unknown position. He always was. It made her feel secure on the one hand, but something told her that it was Laura that made him do it. They were as much keeping an eye on her as they were protecting her. It was why she was never privy to Raymond's location; she could never tell if he could see her or not. One wrong move, she knew, and she was toast. It was why she chose to report back instead of learning more.

They don't trust me, but that's fine. It'll be Laura's fault if we all die just because I couldn't do a proper scouting.

"I really thought I'd won 'em over after Springvale," she said to the dog while scratching his ear, "Oh well. Let's go, boy, before I lose my head."

Keara hung her binoculars around her neck and brought an inhaler from her pocket. She breathed in deep, holding the tainted air until she felt the familiar rush of jet moving through her mind and body.

She left the ridge and returned to the others with Lucky at her heels.

"Miss Laura," she said with an oft-used, sarcastic salute, "I couldn't spot a soul over there, but I was pretty far away. I'd need to get closer to find out more."

[ureniashtram]

OOC: Going to take a 'minor' liberty here and speed things up a bit for the would-be prisoners. So everybody, meet the very first Minor Character!

Regulator Squadleader


Marcellone and his company got a little squeek from a little bird about a raid going down in a far-fetched settlement, a scrawny little village that doesn't even have a name or on today's map. The hardened lawbringer briefly wondered who got the info about the upcoming event, but reckoned that it was probably one of the villagers catching some bad wind or something.

He couldn't shake the feeling of walking into a trap, though.

So when he arrived (the village WAS a scrawny little collection of shacks!) and got fired upon with a hail of angry bullets from a building, he figured that they weren't the only ones who were also informed. He rolled for cover, as did his fellow regulators, and blindfired from his position though with no visual on the hostile it was a wasted effort. Time for Slivers to do his job. Over the cackle of the firefight between his group and the other one, he called for said Silvers and his crew to provide some sniper support.

Judging from Slivers' expression of pure glee, he hit something. The proof became clear when the enemy fire lessened somewhat, but their victory was cut short when they heard single shot and one of the sniper's hat flew several feet away.

"Damn, they got a sniper! Take ample cover and lay low!"

After a few minutes, the whirring sounds of an LMG -Marcellone heard it before, he wasn't sure where- began again. Amidst the thundercracks, he can't help but notice that not one of the bullets hit them. Either the enemy was very, very poor shot or -


It suddenly died out when an explosion shook the earth beneath them and a frantic yells of something along the lines of 'get moving, get moving!'.

Realization punched Marcellone hard in the face. He immediately sprang from his cover and riddled the building with an unhealthy dose of 5.56mm. The door briefly opened, Marcellone crouching where he was at to get a good accuracy, and he saw a barrel.

"What the-,"

Another explosion, and while it was much more smaller the shockwave actually blasted Marcellone back a few feet, him landing hard on the ground. He groaned as he sat up. He saw the building burning pretty good, making it an obstacle. He cursed. Damn raiders are getting smart these days. He looked at his dumfounded comrades and made an annoyed gesture.

"Are you waiting for my birthday, you useless louts? Get after them already!"

He stood up and followed his company as they went around the burning wreckage. Ah ha. So the raiders got in and out by cutting a reasonable portion of the fence? Good thinking. He waited until the rest of regulators went through it before going in himself.

Following them, shouldn't be a problem. They left a bloodtrail that was impossible to miss. So Slivers really did hit something after all. He loaded his R91 Assault Rifle and barked for the greenhorns to follow it, veterans out back.

After a few minutes of trekking, they found a gulley that embraced a large cliff-face. The large wall of rock and stone was beautiful sight indeed, Marcellone remembered to visit this place if he had the time. Then he noticed that all of his company-members were pointing their guns at an unarmed dark-haired woman, hands raised.

Marcellone raised an eyebrow. If she was planning to blow them up while under the giuse of surrendering, she had another thing coming. His worries, though were dashed cruelly upon the rocks of disappointment when the woman spoke up. Her voice, despite her situation, was laced with determination. Marcellone got to hand it to her.

"We're surrendering, in case you hadn't guessed. We have a man down and he needs medical assistance, if he dies then I can assure you we'll waste as much of your time and resources as we can."

That drew some sneers and grimaces, but Marcellone was unaffected. He was curious.

"If you'll be kind enough to follow me and not kill any of my men I'd be very pleased." And when she went further into the gulley, conversations flared up like disturbed ants.

"What if she has some men waiting to ambush us," a voice asked.

"Wouldn't doubt it. Saw her eyes? She's a wolf, she is," another spoke.

"Nah, you pussyfoots worry too much. Ambush us, a large group of regulators? In this place? Bah, recruits these days," a gruff voice admonished.

"Besides, this group is different from the ones we encountered. First, she doesn't wear the usual rags a raider parades around in. Second, she surrendered. If she and her gang ARE raiders, which I very much doubt, she'd rather kill themlseves rather than be captured," a young voice said.

Marcellone silenced them with a mere gesture. Thousands of questions raced through his mind like an untamed wolf. He opted for a choice that would be neutral for both parties.

"Veterans, with me. James too. Little Daniel's right. It's not often you'd get a reasonable 'raider."

With gun still in hand and the hardened veterans at this back, he followed. He made sure that James, their field medic, was close by.

When they reached the end of the gulley, they saw a sad sight. A large ghoul was bleeding pretty heavily and a lanky man was vainly trying to heal him. At this, James spurned into action, though an aged man in strange armor raised his gun. James slowly raised his hands and made sure the old-timer saw his Red Cross.

"I'm a former Follower of the Apocalypse! Don't shoot, I'm going to-,"

Marcellone interrupted him without looking at him.

"Just pump him with Buffout or MedX or something," here he looked at the woman who he now recognized as the leader. His admiration for her grew as he realized that she was surrendering for the sake of her men. A good commander, a rare thing in this world.

"We'll take care of your rotten stinker if you come with us. Contrary to popular belief, we actually take prisoners. As for the matter of you bunch getting freedom . . . That is not my choice to make, but my superior officer."

At the mention of second-in-command of the D.C chapter of the Regulators, every one of the veterans winced. Avery Nichols was one of the sadistic basterds Marcellone ever knew and he doubted that that sadist would let this group go.

No matter what.

This post has been edited by ureniashtram: Aug 10 2011, 10:44 PM