RE: A Harsh Reality Chapter 1 : Legacies, Lovers and Toxins
OOC – Right, whatever happens we need to get this decision made. I know what’ll happen if we go to the COL’s base and I have a good idea of what will happen if we go east. Bob knows what’ll happen if we go to this base. That means we can’t make the decision. We can go to the COL’s base then head off either east or to the other base. It’ll be some time before we do OOC but IC it shouldn’t take longer than a few days (which will give us enough time to do the other things later.)
As for calling them ‘Children of Light.’ Well I make up a lot of names for cults and cabals and factions in my writing over at the Illuminati and in D&D games. It just so happens that I assigned the name Children of Light to this one. It could easily have been something else. It’s just a coincidence that this happens to be Fallout related (with the CoC in it.)
IC –
Phoenix watched as the sun set in the sky, his perch atop one of the old ruined buildings, the one out of all of them that looked most safe to climb on. He held his weapon in his hand, still half in its holster. His eyes drifted up to the evening sky, it was rare to be able to see such a sun set. Usually clouds would block the view; it was strangely calm this night.
He listened – silence. Then moments later something broke that silence, he could hear distant gun fire. He jumped from his perch and quickly made his way down to the ground. It was not rare to hear gun fire, not even of this magnitude, but still the fact it had come this night was strange. He could not explain it, but he ran to investigate. It took him many minutes to reach the scene, it may even have been an hour or more. But when he reached his destination, the gun shots were still raging.
The battle scene was almost perfectly illuminated before the street lamp he was next to. He saw many men dressed in black, and many of the townspeople fighting them. Phoenix was unsure why he had come to see this. The Children of Light were making many more raids now days, but somehow he could feel that something was different this night.
He took up a perch on a nearby building and made sure he was out of sight. He remained there until long after the battle had concluded; the stars were clear in the sky that night. He used the time to think; he tried to draw a reason from within himself as to why he had come here. He tried also to think why the attackers had not pressed their advantage near the conclusion of the battle; they had only retreated. And that was for what, the capture of one man?
Phoenix made his way back to his home well beyond mid night, he had heard many words being aid from within the inn, he had heard many things considered, and spoken of. He wrote everything he heard in his journal, he rarely settled on a permanent home and so always carried this small book. He had been through many in his time and he had stashed these in a place no one else would ever find them.
He appreciated the written word, the way it reminded, inspired and informed. He was one of those gifted enough to use it, and it acted as a code to those who could not use it. He walked slowly through the shadows, the streetlights here had all been decimated but he knew the path perfectly from the first night he had walked it. It had been long ago but he remembered it like yesterday.
The trail ended at a small open aired, one-room house. He entered it and took up a position in the corner of the room, there was a massive bundle of rags and padding in that corner. He half buried himself underneath it and pulled out his journal. He opened at the first blank page and began to scribble notes into it. It was dark there but he could write without light. But when it came to reading he drew out a small torch and ran it over the page, careful to make sure the light did not show on the outside.
He opened a page and began to read from it. ‘Jarius said a lot of things to me when I described the codex. He told me that it had been written long ago. He told me it had been written by a man who was much like me. He told me that it spoke of secrets. He told me it spoke in many metaphors. He told me that it was one of many guiding stones. He told me it was but a key to the true treasure. He told me of his own search and how he turned up too little. He spoke of an encounter of which he could not speak. He spoke of the loss of his sanity. He spoke and told more I cannot remember…’
Phoenix was interrupted by a sharp kick to the ribs, he leaned up to look at his assailant. The man was wearing a black mask and hand long black hair. He was dressed in a leather jacket, it was thin but still looked strong. As the figure leaned over and grabbed him by the collar, Phoenix noticed the small emblem emblazoned on the man’s vest.
The semi-circle of heavy white thread almost depicted a skull. The lines of the half-circle formed horns at its head. Nearly circular eyes made from similarly thick white thread lay slanted across the face. Phoenix immediately recognized it, almost quickly as he had come to fear it. It was the mark of one of the many gangs, though they were not an ordinary gang, more a faction. They were the Gray Death.
*******
A knocking on the door drew Fang from his slumber, even in his sleep he was clad in his leather trench coat. He pulled himself up, straightened his hair and opened the door. No sooner than he had released the lock, the door opened. Garret entered, his form quickly crossed the thresh hold and Fang stepped back into the dark shadows of his room. Fang drew several notes from his pocket and handed them to the innkeeper.
“Is that all you came for?” Fang asked from the corner of his room
“No,” Garret replied, “actually there was something else.”
“Go ahead.”
“Have you made a decision?” The Innkeeper asked
“I have,” Fang answered. “I will follow the party that has formed here; but before they leave my mind says we attempt to rescue the captured refugee from his fate.”
“Very well,” Garret added. “But what beyond that?”
“I’m unsure what the group will do; but I will follow them.”
******
Phoenix felt the blind fold that was wrapped around his face fall off and hit the ground. He examined the room around him. It was a large antechamber, the man who had found him stood on his right side with one hand on his shoulder. The figures in the room all wore masks on their faces. They varied in color, some were red while others were black. Some were even white, or blue, or even green. Phoenix suspected that this implied some form of rank, but he was more concerned with why he had been brought there. Gray Death had earned their name, if he were not part of one of their grand schemes he would have been put to death on sight.
He was led through to another room. A small office lined with several bookcases and a large desk on a golden dais at the center of the room. The figure leading him took up a position behind the desk, he remained standing but motioned for Phoenix to sit.
This one wore a white mask tightly across he face. He spoke with a deep, masculine voice. “Welcome.”
“Why did you bring me here?”
“Frankly,” The man begun, turning his head down. “We need you.”
“What for?” Phoenix asked
“You,” the masked figure said, “are familiar with the legend of the Legacy?”
Phoenix nodded and then was silent again.
“We need you to find it for us.”
*****
OOC – That’s it for now. It’s the next day so maybe we can work something else from there. Fang is intending to head over to the CoL base. If you guys want to, you can come with him. It’s certainly be better than me writing the whole thing. As for the Phoenix thing I think I’ll continue it with a couple more posts to introduce more openings for other characters before any of you guys get into it.
But one word kept screaming at him, kept scratching at the back of his mind like the answer to a test that you know you know but you don't know.(Yes, that is grammaticaly correct.) 'Groom Lake'.