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Heartlands
by bluepencil
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PipBoy journal entry- 12-13-2178
-log start-
Pallia caught me as I was leaving my room last night. She stood by the hallway and stared me down, although she was a full head shorter than I.
"Where are you going?", she asked tartly.
"To the library.", I replied." I need to do research."
"At midnight?", she said, disbelievingly. "What ever else, Fenris... this has got to stop."
"And why is that?"
"You're killing yourself. Look at you! You're all skin and bones.. you forget all about eating, you defy sleep, nothing but research, research, research and research! This has to stop."
I snorted. "No." I was a grown man, after all. I was perfectly capable of making my own decisions, my life was my own. I did not need the babysitting of my cousin. It was fine, then.. our life in the Bend, before the Brotherhood took notice of us.. I readily took her advice then. But fifteen years was a long time, time enough to learn. I had learnt much, and I wanted to share it with the world.
"The Encylopaedia Apocaypa can wait.", she said.
"Knowledge waits for no man..or woman! I need to finish it as fast as possible... Maxson has authorized dissimination, the Brotherhood Archives are finally to be opened to the Wasteland!"
"And then what?"
"Eh? What do you mean?"
"What's the use? What will the encylopaedia get you? What will it do, exactly? Is it worth what you're putting yourself and me through?"
"Is it worth it? Of course it is!! All those secrets long hidden..the real reason behind the war... the catalouge of dangers and surveyed data...Just imagine... with the practical hands-on information that my work will offer...why, it will change the way the people in the Wasteland live!"
She lilted her lips and stood arms akimbo. "And how should people live? What gives you a right to decide that? You barely have any life left in you."
I arched my eyebrows. "Eh? But even so .."
"Shut up, Fenris. You're heading back to your quarters right now."
She grabbed by arm and tried to pull me back. She succeeded in jerking me off my feet, she was a strong woman. She proven that long ago.. when she fought for the small, serious little boy that I used to be. We were just a year apart, but she seemed wiser and tougher for her age. Mine head was filled with idle fancies.. and it was mine intellect that led us to this base.
But it was she who kept us alive long enough....
I wasn't about to be dissuaded from my task, not now...not anymore. This was simply too important.
" Unhand me, cousin!", I cried, and jerked my arm back. She gave a yelp of surprise as we both lost our balance, and fell into a clumsy heap down.
"Unggh....", I groaned. My head was throbbing right where it hit the cold metal floor. I shook my head to clear it, and tried to sit up.
I couldn't. Pallia was sprawled atop me, our arms were entwined like knots, and her elbows were digging into my kidney. "Ow...ow, I am being crushed....."
"Fenris? Are you all right?", she asked in honest concern.
"More or less... but I could be better off if you got your heavy body off mine own.", I said weakly.
"Heavy?!", her head perked up. "Are you.. you called me overweight!! Are you calling me fat, my little puppy man??", she said with mischief in her voice, and revenge in her eyes.
I hated that nickname."No, no! I was not...OUCH!!" She slammed her full weight on me, and lay face-down, so we saw eye-to-eye.
"Your books are starting to make you lose your sense of what's real, Fenris. Go ahead...say it. Am I starting to look fat?"
I looked her over. When I ignored her dinner trays, the ingrained habits of non-wastage drove her to eat the portions herself. But even so, it scarcely seemed to affect her. Her figure seemed as slim and wiry as ever.. her muscle tone was excellent, her unceasing training to become a woman warrior had seen to that.
"No, dear cousin, you look very.. sexy, indeed."
"I ... do? I look..sexy, Fenris? Why, I..."
Now, why did I say those words.. but I couldn't escape them. Ever since my childhood, when I was left with no one but her, our parents dead in the massive raider waves of attack that beset the Northlands.. I depended on her. I adored her.. but now, I come to see, that she was more than the my only surviving relative. my protector. We grew up. She became... beautiful, her growth development came in all the .... right areas.
In my eyes, she was perfect. I could not escape the fact that there was an immensely beautiful woman atop me, and that she had... a decidedly naughty glint in her eye.
She bent closer, and dreamily closed her eyes.
"I never thought you'd finally see it...", she whispered huskily.
She came closer, her lips nearing mine. Her scent, and anticipation filled me.
Then suddenly, I threw her off me, and ran. I ran, my mind blank with shock. My footsteps echoed in the metal halls, and filled my ears. What... what had happened? My mind reeled, my heart threatened to pierce my chest and jump out. It was fear, but of what? A turmoil of unrecognizable emotions.. unfamiliar and more than I could comprehend...
And that is why I sit here now, alone, among the stars. This is beyond my understanding. Ever since the years of my early life, all I had known was her. The Brotherhood of Steel took us in, but even in this military base, I felt ill at ease. My mind wanted to absrob all knowledge, but realms of combat, I avoided. Annoyingly though, Pallia fit in instantly, and she did her best to let me become less awkward in my dealings with the others. She did all she could, and accompanied me whenever I had demands to make. It gave me courage to speak up...she always said she was proud of how I was starting to grow a spine. Although I tried to shut her off in my studies, she still managed to drive herself into my life. Her forcing me to relax, her bringing me my meals.. her constant nagging.... she cared. But always, I had thought she did it because she had to, because she was family.
Distant family.. we didn't share the same direct lineage, but even so....
I was not used to thinking of her a sexual object.
The stars laugh at my discomfiture. I need to clear my mind. Mayhaps a little flying will do.
-journal paused-
-log start-
Those are lightsails.. small wire-rim wind gliders. Wings that span six feet long on either side.. a triangular mesh of light aluminium and stiff cloth, it relies of the reams of air current to stay adrift in the sky. It was invented as a form of experimental transportation for the Brotherhood's armies. Launched from the big airships, this would have been a good way to drop down unxepectedly on an enemy. Light, fast, maneuverable...but unfortunately, it tends to drop like a rock when someone in full Power Armor gets on it. For a reconnosance mission, however, it works exceedingly well.
I was granted use of it for recreational purposes. Pallia talked the Elders into granting all of us idle time. An army that is faced with the same unceasing routines that rapidly became disheartened. Amazing, how she managed to.. no! I must drive all of her thoughts from my mind.
Hmm... the night is magnificent.. but over the horizon, I see a a blurry manifestation. A dust storm? Whatever else.. we will be safe here. And it is just a short flight.
-end log-
"Hey, sir..heading out?!"
Fenris turned and saw a young man in standard Brotherhood Armor, decorated with ribbons that mark the wearer to be an initiate in rank. A young, boyish face framed with curly locks of brown hair grinned at him.
"Go away, Deren.", he said, turning to look back at the horizon.
Deren was a Brotherhood Initiate. He was in consideration for full induction soon, though. His unwavering enthusiasm for all his tasks appealed to those in command.
And he was in awe of Fenris, and all the Scribe's work. He was still undecided of wheter he should be a Knight, or follow the path of his role model. The images of the past intrigued him.. but he also was fit for combat.
He needed to choose, and soon.
To that end, he followed two people around. He was a constant sight around the Archives.. running around on various odd duties.. sometimes small Scribe work on occasion. He was always more willing to do the demands of Fenris, however.. he knew that among the scribes..it was with him that he would learn the most.
But still, Deren didn't ignore the demands of the base's military nature. He trained and fought with the best of them, and he was often praised for his skill by his TrainingMaster.
Pallia.
She was chraged with training the young recruits here. He followed her in much the same way as he followed Fenris. He was an ego boost to the both of them.
Fenris suspected that he was enamored of here.. that perhaps, was part of the reason why he hasn't chosen Scribe duty, much as he seemed to like it more.
He didn't care. Deren was harmless, or so he thought. And he wasn't about to interfere with whatever Pallia chose to do.
But why then, did he see the young protege with so much distaste now?
"It's late, sir. And the weathers ops warn against a small wind front."
"Go. Away. Initiate.", he said coldly.
"Sir, yes SIR!!", Deren said with a snappy salute. He climbed back down and left him alone on the metal roof.
Fenris took a deep breath of the cold night air and considered the strength and direction of the wind. "Just enough pressure...good maneuverable currents...all perfect.", he thought. He strapped himself into the harness, and cleasen his minds of thought in the old, almost ritual motions. He grabbed the strings that controlled tabs in the aerofoil, and spread the wings to its fullest.
He bent down. mumbled a quick invocation to the Trinity, and started to run off the structure.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Brotherhood Depot #54 status report for December 13. 2176
It was a dust storm that formed out of nowhere and struck us blind-sided. Winds in excess of two hundred miles an hour swooped into the valley before we could detect it. The base and all personnel were unharmed, but I recommend a new coat of camouflage paint for the left tower.
-append log-
We have checked that one of our Scribe personnel are missing. Report has it that Fenris Bluhart, Academian Second-class, was last seen going into what was a calm sky in a standard issue light windsail. The storm must have gotten him. Search protocols have been started.
-end log-
--------------------------------------------------
The storm was a rabid desert wolf... rapidly it attacked, but just as quickly did its presence fade. But even then, it covered a great deal of ground before it dissipated back into nothingness.
He didn't know where he was. Unlikely as it may have seemed, he was blown completely off the map! No matter how much he fiddled with his Pipboy, it failed to identify the patch of desert he had landed in.
He could only give two things that he could use to mark this place apart. One was that there was a shadowy mountain ridge along the horizon, and two.. there was crashed lightsail a few feet from his current prone position.
He had no workable radio, no compass, no provisions. He hadn't prepared nor expected this to happen, but he just sighed and tried to deal with it. He gave hinself a full body check. He seemed to be in relatively good condition, his body armor had protected him from most of the impact. But skin had been flayed off from his knuckles on landing.
It was futile to stay there. He got up to his feet shook sand out of his boots and started walking in a random direction.
A few hours hence....and there was still only endless, rolling sand to fill his vision. The sun sent burning rays down on him, and the desert soil reflected the heat back into his eyes.
He thirsted...
He had remained for so long in the comfortable luxury of civilization. it had been so long since he'd last stepped into the true Wasteland. In all his life, in the Brotherhood Bunker station that he lived and worked.. he'd never been far from life-giving water. He had forgotten that this was how much of the world was like. Arid desert. Lifeless and inhospitable...
What wounds he had were inflamed and burning. His sensibilities swam. The heat was making him delirious...although he tried not to.. his thoughts found their way back to the second home he left behind. Was Pallia worried for him, he wondered. Yes, maybe she was... and he'll never see her again... His head throbbed with pain, and he heard only her voice calling to him.
A radscorpion dug itself out of a nearby sand dune and skittered around in search of prey. A glint of the faint sunrise attracted its attention. It shifted to the left and saw a figure in Brotherhood Scribe regimentals doddering towards it.
It chittered in warning, and poised to strike.
Fenris got a gleeful, insane look into his eye, and charged blindly into a sandy knoll. He slammed into a faceful of sand... and as the steady lightening sky looked down upon him... he lost all conciousness.
--------------------------------------------
"HAAAAAAAAAA!!", he screamed, and bolted upright.
"Hshh...it's all right now..", he heard a soft, comforting voice say. Gentle, caring hands pushed him back onto the bed and set him adrift into a haze of half-wakefulness.
"Wha--where am I?", he asked, squinting his eyes. From off to the side he could just make out a faint figure... but he couldn't see any clearer than if he was inside a deep mist.
He gave up and sighed. He closed his eyes and settled back into a deep sleep.
"How is our guest, daughter?"
The young tribal woman looked up, and smiled as her father came into the tent. His face was set into a serious mask, the tatoos in between the age lines writhing in a silent melody, but his eyes were full of genuine kindliness.
"He is recovering, father. When he wakes up, he should be able to answer questions."
"Good.", he replied. He stood over Fenris, and regarded his 'guest'. He found it strange.. that man would journey into the Wasteland, clad in a suit of metallic threads. The heat was trapped into the chains, and it almost broiled its wearer. He didn't seem like a raider.. but it would be best to make sure.
PipBoy journal entry- 12-16-2178
-log start-
I seem to have been rescued by tribals. I lie here now inside a tribal tent. It smells of smoke and animal fat in here, and I must say that the scent is not unpleasing.
I still feel a bit weak, but that should be expected. I have been unconcious for about two days now.. and what sustenance I have had lately has been but corn gruel. It is nourishing, but hardly truly filling. I estimate it to be late in the afternoon.
Wait...
-voice record feature on-
"Good day to you, ~veesa~ Fenri. How are you feeling?"
"Fine, fine."
"I am glad to hear that. The Elders invite you to their tent. They wish to.. exchange knowledge with you."
"Ah..exchange knowledge? That sounds ..interesting....yes, I will come. Thank you."
"I will come back in a while. You may need to be accustomed back to your body."
"As you wish."
That was Tisha. She is the one ..taking care of me. She was the first thing I saw as I awoke yesterday. I had thought I was still delirious. What with the light filtering through the leather tent, and her with ivory bones in her hair.. I thought I had surely died.
"Goddess...", I had gasped. "Forgive my sins, and what I had failed to do"
She held her hand up to her mouth, and crossed herself. "Please, be silent. You are still too weak, stranger. Conserve your strength.", she said.
She fed me a bit of gruel, which I devoured quickly. As I wiped my mouth, I looked around, and my surroundings became clear to me.
The walls were of dried leather, blackened with soot. The floor was packed earth, and I was on a rickety bed made with fur and cornshucks.
"Where am I?", I asked her. "And who are you?"
"For your first question, you are in my tent. I had found you in the desert, you were almost dead. I brought here, back to my tribe. And I am Tisha. I am a Healer... just a lesser one, in training... but I knew enough to heal you."
"Thank you."
z"It was nothing that a good amount of rest could not cure."
I looked at myself. The skin had regrown on my hands... it is as if I had never been bruised. Stimpacks? No.. they had no access to that. But somehow, they have approximated the effects. Astounding....
"But even so.. I thank you. And your healing skill are excellent, and your kindness and prescence of mind saved my life. Thank you, Healer Tisha."
It was hard to tell, the tent was dark , she was facing away from the light, but through her tanned skin, she seemed to blush.
"You are.. welcome. You..."
"I am called Fenris... I am an Academian of the Brotherhood."
"Brotherhood?"
"Surely, you've heard of the Brotherhood of Steel?"
"Forgive me, but no, I have not, ~veesa~ Feniris."
"Ah..", I sighed. Plausible..these tribals so not place much interest in Wastelan d politics. "That will do.", I replied, referrig to the wa she mispronounced my name.
"Excuse me, ~veesa~..that is, guest Feniris...but you need your rest. I must go."
"Wait.."
She smiled at me in a friendly manner, and left.
It was strange..how easily her manner changed. A little bit of an honest compliment seems to change things more than I had expected. I will make a note of it now..this is a valuable piece of data.
Another thing that I have observed.. this tribal culture speaks a more formal sense of language... but it is interpersed with new words and some of the more general speech patterns have been given new meanings...
I must to know how these tribals came to be so.. the emergence of these primitive people after the great war.. it still remains a mystery.
Mayhaps I can ask Tisha or the Elders of this..but I am uncertain on how I should proceed in my interaction with her. My experience in the field of human society is severely lacking. I had been exposed to only one other female for a real extended periods of time..
Stop.
What is wrong with me? I need to get back to the Brotherhood as fast as possible. What of Pallia?
Hmm...Long for her.. though the thought of seeing her so soon makes me nervous. But I will talk with the Elders of this tribe.. perhaps they can help me. Still, there is knowledge to be gathered here.. I can't help but to feel the need to see what secrets the Wasteland hides.
-close log-
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Well? Sorry if it's not up to par. but's it's just a tbeta..and without andy of the old stuff to expand on, I just HAD to work on something. I still have other new fics started(blargh!)..I'll have to finish those one of these days.. I'm stuck..I'm frustrated with using Windows 3.1's Write. Grr..
http://envy.nu/bpen/bp.gif
~cause anything less than total and utter overkill is a complete waste of time~
-it's the freakin' bluepencil!
~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^
Heartlands
by bluepencil
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
PipBoy journal entry- 12-13-2178
-log start-
Pallia caught me as I was leaving my room last night. She stood by the hallway and stared me down, although she was a full head shorter than I.
"Where are you going?", she asked tartly.
"To the library.", I replied." I need to do research."
"At midnight?", she said, disbelievingly. "What ever else, Fenris... this has got to stop."
"And why is that?"
"You're killing yourself. Look at you! You're all skin and bones.. you forget all about eating, you defy sleep, nothing but research, research, research and research! This has to stop."
I snorted. "No." I was a grown man, after all. I was perfectly capable of making my own decisions, my life was my own. I did not need the babysitting of my cousin. It was fine, then.. our life in the Bend, before the Brotherhood took notice of us.. I readily took her advice then. But fifteen years was a long time, time enough to learn. I had learnt much, and I wanted to share it with the world.
"The Encylopaedia Apocaypa can wait.", she said.
"Knowledge waits for no man..or woman! I need to finish it as fast as possible... Maxson has authorized dissimination, the Brotherhood Archives are finally to be opened to the Wasteland!"
"And then what?"
"Eh? What do you mean?"
"What's the use? What will the encylopaedia get you? What will it do, exactly? Is it worth what you're putting yourself and me through?"
"Is it worth it? Of course it is!! All those secrets long hidden..the real reason behind the war... the catalouge of dangers and surveyed data...Just imagine... with the practical hands-on information that my work will offer...why, it will change the way the people in the Wasteland live!"
She lilted her lips and stood arms akimbo. "And how should people live? What gives you a right to decide that? You barely have any life left in you."
I arched my eyebrows. "Eh? But even so .."
"Shut up, Fenris. You're heading back to your quarters right now."
She grabbed by arm and tried to pull me back. She succeeded in jerking me off my feet, she was a strong woman. She proven that long ago.. when she fought for the small, serious little boy that I used to be. We were just a year apart, but she seemed wiser and tougher for her age. Mine head was filled with idle fancies.. and it was mine intellect that led us to this base.
But it was she who kept us alive long enough....
I wasn't about to be dissuaded from my task, not now...not anymore. This was simply too important.
" Unhand me, cousin!", I cried, and jerked my arm back. She gave a yelp of surprise as we both lost our balance, and fell into a clumsy heap down.
"Unggh....", I groaned. My head was throbbing right where it hit the cold metal floor. I shook my head to clear it, and tried to sit up.
I couldn't. Pallia was sprawled atop me, our arms were entwined like knots, and her elbows were digging into my kidney. "Ow...ow, I am being crushed....."
"Fenris? Are you all right?", she asked in honest concern.
"More or less... but I could be better off if you got your heavy body off mine own.", I said weakly.
"Heavy?!", her head perked up. "Are you.. you called me overweight!! Are you calling me fat, my little puppy man??", she said with mischief in her voice, and revenge in her eyes.
I hated that nickname."No, no! I was not...OUCH!!" She slammed her full weight on me, and lay face-down, so we saw eye-to-eye.
"Your books are starting to make you lose your sense of what's real, Fenris. Go ahead...say it. Am I starting to look fat?"
I looked her over. When I ignored her dinner trays, the ingrained habits of non-wastage drove her to eat the portions herself. But even so, it scarcely seemed to affect her. Her figure seemed as slim and wiry as ever.. her muscle tone was excellent, her unceasing training to become a woman warrior had seen to that.
"No, dear cousin, you look very.. sexy, indeed."
"I ... do? I look..sexy, Fenris? Why, I..."
Now, why did I say those words.. but I couldn't escape them. Ever since my childhood, when I was left with no one but her, our parents dead in the massive raider waves of attack that beset the Northlands.. I depended on her. I adored her.. but now, I come to see, that she was more than the my only surviving relative. my protector. We grew up. She became... beautiful, her growth development came in all the .... right areas.
In my eyes, she was perfect. I could not escape the fact that there was an immensely beautiful woman atop me, and that she had... a decidedly naughty glint in her eye.
She bent closer, and dreamily closed her eyes.
"I never thought you'd finally see it...", she whispered huskily.
She came closer, her lips nearing mine. Her scent, and anticipation filled me.
Then suddenly, I threw her off me, and ran. I ran, my mind blank with shock. My footsteps echoed in the metal halls, and filled my ears. What... what had happened? My mind reeled, my heart threatened to pierce my chest and jump out. It was fear, but of what? A turmoil of unrecognizable emotions.. unfamiliar and more than I could comprehend...
And that is why I sit here now, alone, among the stars. This is beyond my understanding. Ever since the years of my early life, all I had known was her. The Brotherhood of Steel took us in, but even in this military base, I felt ill at ease. My mind wanted to absrob all knowledge, but realms of combat, I avoided. Annoyingly though, Pallia fit in instantly, and she did her best to let me become less awkward in my dealings with the others. She did all she could, and accompanied me whenever I had demands to make. It gave me courage to speak up...she always said she was proud of how I was starting to grow a spine. Although I tried to shut her off in my studies, she still managed to drive herself into my life. Her forcing me to relax, her bringing me my meals.. her constant nagging.... she cared. But always, I had thought she did it because she had to, because she was family.
Distant family.. we didn't share the same direct lineage, but even so....
I was not used to thinking of her a sexual object.
The stars laugh at my discomfiture. I need to clear my mind. Mayhaps a little flying will do.
-journal paused-
-log start-
Those are lightsails.. small wire-rim wind gliders. Wings that span six feet long on either side.. a triangular mesh of light aluminium and stiff cloth, it relies of the reams of air current to stay adrift in the sky. It was invented as a form of experimental transportation for the Brotherhood's armies. Launched from the big airships, this would have been a good way to drop down unxepectedly on an enemy. Light, fast, maneuverable...but unfortunately, it tends to drop like a rock when someone in full Power Armor gets on it. For a reconnosance mission, however, it works exceedingly well.
I was granted use of it for recreational purposes. Pallia talked the Elders into granting all of us idle time. An army that is faced with the same unceasing routines that rapidly became disheartened. Amazing, how she managed to.. no! I must drive all of her thoughts from my mind.
Hmm... the night is magnificent.. but over the horizon, I see a a blurry manifestation. A dust storm? Whatever else.. we will be safe here. And it is just a short flight.
-end log-
"Hey, sir..heading out?!"
Fenris turned and saw a young man in standard Brotherhood Armor, decorated with ribbons that mark the wearer to be an initiate in rank. A young, boyish face framed with curly locks of brown hair grinned at him.
"Go away, Deren.", he said, turning to look back at the horizon.
Deren was a Brotherhood Initiate. He was in consideration for full induction soon, though. His unwavering enthusiasm for all his tasks appealed to those in command.
And he was in awe of Fenris, and all the Scribe's work. He was still undecided of wheter he should be a Knight, or follow the path of his role model. The images of the past intrigued him.. but he also was fit for combat.
He needed to choose, and soon.
To that end, he followed two people around. He was a constant sight around the Archives.. running around on various odd duties.. sometimes small Scribe work on occasion. He was always more willing to do the demands of Fenris, however.. he knew that among the scribes..it was with him that he would learn the most.
But still, Deren didn't ignore the demands of the base's military nature. He trained and fought with the best of them, and he was often praised for his skill by his TrainingMaster.
Pallia.
She was chraged with training the young recruits here. He followed her in much the same way as he followed Fenris. He was an ego boost to the both of them.
Fenris suspected that he was enamored of here.. that perhaps, was part of the reason why he hasn't chosen Scribe duty, much as he seemed to like it more.
He didn't care. Deren was harmless, or so he thought. And he wasn't about to interfere with whatever Pallia chose to do.
But why then, did he see the young protege with so much distaste now?
"It's late, sir. And the weathers ops warn against a small wind front."
"Go. Away. Initiate.", he said coldly.
"Sir, yes SIR!!", Deren said with a snappy salute. He climbed back down and left him alone on the metal roof.
Fenris took a deep breath of the cold night air and considered the strength and direction of the wind. "Just enough pressure...good maneuverable currents...all perfect.", he thought. He strapped himself into the harness, and cleasen his minds of thought in the old, almost ritual motions. He grabbed the strings that controlled tabs in the aerofoil, and spread the wings to its fullest.
He bent down. mumbled a quick invocation to the Trinity, and started to run off the structure.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Brotherhood Depot #54 status report for December 13. 2176
It was a dust storm that formed out of nowhere and struck us blind-sided. Winds in excess of two hundred miles an hour swooped into the valley before we could detect it. The base and all personnel were unharmed, but I recommend a new coat of camouflage paint for the left tower.
-append log-
We have checked that one of our Scribe personnel are missing. Report has it that Fenris Bluhart, Academian Second-class, was last seen going into what was a calm sky in a standard issue light windsail. The storm must have gotten him. Search protocols have been started.
-end log-
--------------------------------------------------
The storm was a rabid desert wolf... rapidly it attacked, but just as quickly did its presence fade. But even then, it covered a great deal of ground before it dissipated back into nothingness.
He didn't know where he was. Unlikely as it may have seemed, he was blown completely off the map! No matter how much he fiddled with his Pipboy, it failed to identify the patch of desert he had landed in.
He could only give two things that he could use to mark this place apart. One was that there was a shadowy mountain ridge along the horizon, and two.. there was crashed lightsail a few feet from his current prone position.
He had no workable radio, no compass, no provisions. He hadn't prepared nor expected this to happen, but he just sighed and tried to deal with it. He gave hinself a full body check. He seemed to be in relatively good condition, his body armor had protected him from most of the impact. But skin had been flayed off from his knuckles on landing.
It was futile to stay there. He got up to his feet shook sand out of his boots and started walking in a random direction.
A few hours hence....and there was still only endless, rolling sand to fill his vision. The sun sent burning rays down on him, and the desert soil reflected the heat back into his eyes.
He thirsted...
He had remained for so long in the comfortable luxury of civilization. it had been so long since he'd last stepped into the true Wasteland. In all his life, in the Brotherhood Bunker station that he lived and worked.. he'd never been far from life-giving water. He had forgotten that this was how much of the world was like. Arid desert. Lifeless and inhospitable...
What wounds he had were inflamed and burning. His sensibilities swam. The heat was making him delirious...although he tried not to.. his thoughts found their way back to the second home he left behind. Was Pallia worried for him, he wondered. Yes, maybe she was... and he'll never see her again... His head throbbed with pain, and he heard only her voice calling to him.
A radscorpion dug itself out of a nearby sand dune and skittered around in search of prey. A glint of the faint sunrise attracted its attention. It shifted to the left and saw a figure in Brotherhood Scribe regimentals doddering towards it.
It chittered in warning, and poised to strike.
Fenris got a gleeful, insane look into his eye, and charged blindly into a sandy knoll. He slammed into a faceful of sand... and as the steady lightening sky looked down upon him... he lost all conciousness.
--------------------------------------------
"HAAAAAAAAAA!!", he screamed, and bolted upright.
"Hshh...it's all right now..", he heard a soft, comforting voice say. Gentle, caring hands pushed him back onto the bed and set him adrift into a haze of half-wakefulness.
"Wha--where am I?", he asked, squinting his eyes. From off to the side he could just make out a faint figure... but he couldn't see any clearer than if he was inside a deep mist.
He gave up and sighed. He closed his eyes and settled back into a deep sleep.
"How is our guest, daughter?"
The young tribal woman looked up, and smiled as her father came into the tent. His face was set into a serious mask, the tatoos in between the age lines writhing in a silent melody, but his eyes were full of genuine kindliness.
"He is recovering, father. When he wakes up, he should be able to answer questions."
"Good.", he replied. He stood over Fenris, and regarded his 'guest'. He found it strange.. that man would journey into the Wasteland, clad in a suit of metallic threads. The heat was trapped into the chains, and it almost broiled its wearer. He didn't seem like a raider.. but it would be best to make sure.
PipBoy journal entry- 12-16-2178
-log start-
I seem to have been rescued by tribals. I lie here now inside a tribal tent. It smells of smoke and animal fat in here, and I must say that the scent is not unpleasing.
I still feel a bit weak, but that should be expected. I have been unconcious for about two days now.. and what sustenance I have had lately has been but corn gruel. It is nourishing, but hardly truly filling. I estimate it to be late in the afternoon.
Wait...
-voice record feature on-
"Good day to you, ~veesa~ Fenri. How are you feeling?"
"Fine, fine."
"I am glad to hear that. The Elders invite you to their tent. They wish to.. exchange knowledge with you."
"Ah..exchange knowledge? That sounds ..interesting....yes, I will come. Thank you."
"I will come back in a while. You may need to be accustomed back to your body."
"As you wish."
That was Tisha. She is the one ..taking care of me. She was the first thing I saw as I awoke yesterday. I had thought I was still delirious. What with the light filtering through the leather tent, and her with ivory bones in her hair.. I thought I had surely died.
"Goddess...", I had gasped. "Forgive my sins, and what I had failed to do"
She held her hand up to her mouth, and crossed herself. "Please, be silent. You are still too weak, stranger. Conserve your strength.", she said.
She fed me a bit of gruel, which I devoured quickly. As I wiped my mouth, I looked around, and my surroundings became clear to me.
The walls were of dried leather, blackened with soot. The floor was packed earth, and I was on a rickety bed made with fur and cornshucks.
"Where am I?", I asked her. "And who are you?"
"For your first question, you are in my tent. I had found you in the desert, you were almost dead. I brought here, back to my tribe. And I am Tisha. I am a Healer... just a lesser one, in training... but I knew enough to heal you."
"Thank you."
z"It was nothing that a good amount of rest could not cure."
I looked at myself. The skin had regrown on my hands... it is as if I had never been bruised. Stimpacks? No.. they had no access to that. But somehow, they have approximated the effects. Astounding....
"But even so.. I thank you. And your healing skill are excellent, and your kindness and prescence of mind saved my life. Thank you, Healer Tisha."
It was hard to tell, the tent was dark , she was facing away from the light, but through her tanned skin, she seemed to blush.
"You are.. welcome. You..."
"I am called Fenris... I am an Academian of the Brotherhood."
"Brotherhood?"
"Surely, you've heard of the Brotherhood of Steel?"
"Forgive me, but no, I have not, ~veesa~ Feniris."
"Ah..", I sighed. Plausible..these tribals so not place much interest in Wastelan d politics. "That will do.", I replied, referrig to the wa she mispronounced my name.
"Excuse me, ~veesa~..that is, guest Feniris...but you need your rest. I must go."
"Wait.."
She smiled at me in a friendly manner, and left.
It was strange..how easily her manner changed. A little bit of an honest compliment seems to change things more than I had expected. I will make a note of it now..this is a valuable piece of data.
Another thing that I have observed.. this tribal culture speaks a more formal sense of language... but it is interpersed with new words and some of the more general speech patterns have been given new meanings...
I must to know how these tribals came to be so.. the emergence of these primitive people after the great war.. it still remains a mystery.
Mayhaps I can ask Tisha or the Elders of this..but I am uncertain on how I should proceed in my interaction with her. My experience in the field of human society is severely lacking. I had been exposed to only one other female for a real extended periods of time..
Stop.
What is wrong with me? I need to get back to the Brotherhood as fast as possible. What of Pallia?
Hmm...Long for her.. though the thought of seeing her so soon makes me nervous. But I will talk with the Elders of this tribe.. perhaps they can help me. Still, there is knowledge to be gathered here.. I can't help but to feel the need to see what secrets the Wasteland hides.
-close log-
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Well? Sorry if it's not up to par. but's it's just a tbeta..and without andy of the old stuff to expand on, I just HAD to work on something. I still have other new fics started(blargh!)..I'll have to finish those one of these days.. I'm stuck..I'm frustrated with using Windows 3.1's Write. Grr..
http://envy.nu/bpen/bp.gif
~cause anything less than total and utter overkill is a complete waste of time~
-it's the freakin' bluepencil!
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