Rotpurgers events/scriptoutput (4.1)
Death in the Family
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Every evening, the Lady of the Lake would address the Runeweavers, telling them of strange visions she would have in her sleep. It was less obligation and more tradition, a means for her handmaidens to check upon her wellbeing. Though they told no one, in her final months, the visions had grown darker. Rusted walls haunted her dreams alongside a voice that she could not understand. She said the vision felt squishy, like flesh, but could never elaborate beyond the horror.
On one rainy day, for the first time in decades, she did not speak to the Runeweavers. Worried, the Runeweavers sought their fair lady out, and found her body laying in the Wishing Well. The impossible stared them in the eyes: an unthinkable future had now become their present. The lady was dead.
For the first time in the Wishmaidens storied history, across tribe, cult, and vault, there was no hope to be had. No smiles were found among the villagers. Just a damning silence.
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
Completing the national focus |
 What will we do?
- §YThe First Runechild§!: Unlocked by gathering the Clergy of the Wishing Well!
- §YProxima Avalon§!: Unlocked by braving the depths of the sea!
- §YShe Who Stared Into the Abyss§!: Unlocked by facing a terrible foe within Vault 45!
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To Look into the Well
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The Wishmaidens gathered in the Halls-Under-the-Lake. With Brigid as the only presiding Cleric within the homelands, the Shamans deferred to her for the ensuing discussion.
The talk was quiet: for once, Brigid's boisterousness was silenced, and the snide that had pervaded meetings in past was completely absent.
The Shamans spoke of a Last Will and Testament, written before recorded time, giving the notes to the cleric. Inspecting the notes alongside the
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
(No triggers) |
She chose to help the Weavers. (Nothing) | |
The Cornucopia's Call
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Few times has the Cornucopia ever been used to assemble the Clergy-- not even the War for Vault 100 warranted it. Brigid hesitated for a moment, but she knew that doing it alone would only serve to bring further ruin. With all her might in her lungs, she blew the cornucopia's horn, allowing the news of its call to spread across the land, summoning the rest of the Lady's Chosen.
The first was Galahadria, the Warmother of the Tribe. Once, in a past life, she had been a soldier from the east. Then, when she was seperated from her unit in an avalanche, the tribe had found her, and the Lady forged her anew. Her training had allowed her to become a titan, her armor and fist empowering her to rend a Mirelurk's shell from its body with but one swing.
The second was Lancella, the Runeseamstress. The lady had chosen her by virtue of her joy and song, and raised her from a teenager into a beloved figure of the people. It was by her hand that the trees in the woods would be marked for travelers and locals alike, and it was her voice that would ultimately sway the commonfolk one way or another.
The third and final was Palamyde, a former woman of Olympus who forsook her tribe to seek healing under the Lady. Though her illness could never truly be healed, she continues to fight through the pain, powered only by her devotion to her weapon.
The three met Brigid in the Halls-Under-The-Lake, where four blades were to be crossed and vows would be renewed. Though the future was dire, they knew their team was more than capable.
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
(No triggers) |
United we stand.
- §YThe First Runechild§!: Unlocked by gathering the Clergy of the Wishing Well!
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Down in the Deep Blue Sea
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25, 50, 75, 100, 125, 150 meters below the sea they fell, the submarine plunging as they stood stiff and silently. For seven hours, they trudged through the ocean's irradiated muck, passing strange nine-legged crabs and flatsharks and weaving around living seaweed patches. Schools of Fish with bioluminescent tumors would chew away at the submarine's hull, only being scared away after Galahadria knocked the side herself.
Without warning, the submarine pilot stopped the vessel, the rusted, unkempt machine creaking enough that Lancella cried out in fear. Galahadria leaned over the pilot's shoulder, trying to get a look at what made him stop.
A feeling of primal terror mixed with relief washed over her as her eyes registered what she was seeing. Though it was covered in two centuries worth of undersea grime, she could faintly make it out all the same: the door to Vault 45.
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
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Avalon..?
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Paradise, or Perdition
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Rusted halls stained with blood and oil greeted them upon entry. Clusters of skeletons in diving suits had gathered near the door to the vault, no doubt residents who had tried to escape in decades past. The four Clerics stood huddled as they made their way deeper, weapons readied for anything.
Though the lights in the vault could only manage flickers, they remained bright enough to show the carnage. Metal wires seemed to occupy half-rotting ribcages, turning bodies inside and out, leaving their skin like paper mache from age and lumped from the machinery that now occupied their body.
On the second floor, they could hear nothing but wheezing of haggard breath. Upon investigating, Palamyde was beset upon by three skeletons, all gnashing their jaws and digging their boney fingers into her armor. When she shattered them, they saw what had kept them alive: a strange facsimile of a nervous system, primitive and brutal. Oily blood spewed forth as they fell, leaving the clergywomen silent for a moment.
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
(No triggers) |
Even so, they could not stop.
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What Lay Beneath This Rock
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Four warriors brave trudged into the depths of the vault at the bottom of the sea, as close to one another as they could be. The air grew thick, and their breath grew weak, but they did not waver. Four blades united saw them this far, and four blades united would see this through. At the deepest level of the vault, they smelled naught but burning flesh and heard naught but the glittering spark of wires.
There, in the final chamber, was an abominous marriage of machine and man-- a massive computer composed of bones and sinew, with a haunting image of a misshapen face staring down at them. It spoke only in gurgled half-tones and dialed beeps, deafening them with its godly tongue. Though the four had braced for a battle, the abomination's psychic domination had spurned their desires and made them fall to the ground. Even so, the Lady's will pushed Brigid forward-- carrying a flame in her hand, she brought it to the machine. Lighting the creature ablaze, its choked screams began glitching as the flames begun to spread across its dried muscles.
The four, now freed from its dominance, quickly realized that the fumes would soon be upon them. Making their retreat, they rushed past more strange thralls, cleaving and shouting their way back through the depths of Vault 45 as they made their way back to the submarine.
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
The event “Paradise, or Perdition” option “Even so, they could not stop.” |
We need not know demons.
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The Vault 100 Experiment
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Constructed beneath the city of Spokane, Vault 100 was one of the largest vaults created by Vault-Tec, designed to house proficient ex-military personnel and some of the best pre-war scientists that the world had to offer-- a time capsule of experience and knowledge for the wasteland to make use of.
While the science and medical teams toiled away in their labs, the ex-military populace of the vault was given jobs that required elbow grease, and a quick-thinking sort of know-how-- security, maintenance, so on.
What they didn't know was that the vault was host to a terrible experiment: the development of a super soldier program originally pitched and devised by the Vault's overseer, a german scientist named Johanna Weber. She had a hypothesis that by introducing manipulated radioactive waves and implantations to the human body, that she'd be able to mutate men into perfect soldiers.
...And it worked! For a small time. A quarter of the vault's populace took note of their newfound strength, laughing and making as good of a use of it as they could-- everything from fixing vents without a screwdriver to opening a drawer too rough to scare a peer. However, eventually, the effects of the gas began to subside-- and those afflicted began to experience a strange, painless form of partial rot.
The vault was shook-- and whilst some didn't find themselves too bothered, Alexander Pantello, the Security Chief, tried to incite an uprising. Talked down by a scientist named Grozdan Haykov, Alexander was coerced into leaving the vault-- but he didn't leave his prejudice behind...
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
Completing the national focus |
He took with him water and building supplies.
He took the vault's best armaments.
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Outcasted
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Cast out into the wastes alongside several other personnel, Alexander's clique wanted nothing more than to bask in the comfort of their vault once again. This hatred only festered as they wandered the irradiated wilds, trudging through the bitter snow in search of shelter.
As the tension between the exiles and those who still lived within the Vault escalated, Alexander's caste grew restless. Over the next few years the raging bitterness that had permeated their flock only grew. What once was a generation of hardworking men and women had turned into barbarians, no better than the raiders that clashed with them in the wastes time and time again.
Eventually making their way east into Couer D'Alene, they found a skirmish between two groups; the French-speaking Heat-Drinkers locked in a battle with the Badmouths, a local raider gang. Both groups were vying for control of the town, but Alexander knew they could only help one...
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
Completing the national focus |
The Heat-Drinkers!
The Badmouths!
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The Three Splinters
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With their ranks filled out with more of the wastelands worst, the now-Rotpurgers experienced a culture shift. Many began to see the women among them as a commodity to be owned rather than equals in arms. This led to a schism, with many of the group's women leaving in search of a new home. The found a home and salvation amongst the nearby Wishmaidens tribe and their eerie faux-deity; the Lady of the Lake. Under her they formed a new and strange clergy far removed from their male cohorts, practising odd rites and learning unnatural abilities.
Then came along Sir Samson.
He had been born a Rotpurger: a scrawny, twitchy little man who often heard voices that no one else could. The rest of the purgers disliked his manic turns and believed him to be a worthless and unreliable runt at best but tolerated him for many years. Those who bullied him found themselves facing many 'coincidental' misfortunes; a live grenade found in someone's morning coffee however was the final straw and Samson was exiled from the Rotpurgers, destined to never return… Or, at least, they had hoped.
In his lone wanderings, he found kinship in a strange thing— a black Orb with the symbol of infinity emblazoned upon it that could answer his many questions and assuage his endless doubts and fears. Newly confident, almost arrogant, Samson returned to the 'Purgers territory as a prophet of sorts using his new "Infinity Orb" to give guidance and speak the will of his new gods. It was not long before he had gathered a group of loyal if somewhat deranged followers branded as his Infinity Knights.
Coming to Jacobia, Samson claimed to have a plan to mobilise against the Vault— seeking to unite the Wishmaidens, the Rotpurgers, and his own Infinity Knights in one glorious charge against Grozdan's loyalists. Jacobia was sceptical, but the fervent nature of the 'Infinity-Prophets' conviction convinced him to make overtures to the Wishmaidens and their sceptical Lady. Together the three reassembled in Couer d'Alene to discuss an alliance between their different forces, hoping for the best.
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
Completing the national focus |
Samson's promise drove many newcomers to the region.
The three raised walls where once there was none.
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Who Could Have Seen This Coming?
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The deed was done, the Old Country had fallen and the Rot had been purged. For so long life among the purgers had revolved around this ancient hate and war but what would they do now? The loose alliance between the three powers no longer had much purpose and all within the Purgers knew change was in the air.
A meeting had been called for the leaders to meet and discuss the future, though the tension in the air among each group foreshadowed strongly at how things would play out. Jacobia had chosen the meeting place, an old warehouse that had been repurposed as a town hall of sorts, and had quietly placed groups of men loyal to him in the buildings all around. For security purposes of course. He expected those weak and whining Wishmaidens to be difficult to keep in line, though it was anyone's guess what that madman Samson would do.
The Lady and her Wishmaidens flooded the room soon after, donning their oxidised bits of armour and dainty furs. Creusa counted Jacobia's men hidden in the crannies and rafters of the warehouse. So he had chosen this approach? How droll. She turned to him—her gaze unsettling as it was ethereal. "Jacobia," she greeted.
"Lady," Jacobia leered. "Where's Samson?" He noted her numbers, but it bothered him none; they both knew how this was going to pan out.
"Should I be the one to know?" She asked, tilting her head. "It seems you have eyes everywhere." She gestured a signal—the Wishmaidens readied their arms.
"Guess it makes no difference," scoffed Jacobia, readying his own.
Far away from the meeting place, Samson held his followers in waiting well beyond the appointed time. The mystic orb had told him there would be bloodshed, spoke of the impending end of the alliance, and assured him that it was Samson who'd come out on top in the chaos. What had Samson huddled under an old rowboat divining with the orb for hours, as his knights patiently waited in the whipping wind, was when to make his move.
But who's chapter did this evening turn to?
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
Completing the national focus |
Samson's Infinity Knights!
Jacobia's Rotpurgers!
The Lady's Wishmaidens!
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A Woman Came From Afar
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Once, there was a simple woman, descended from the ilk of Vault 100, who lived a subtle life within the lands of the Timberline. She lived a simple life until one day wayward Inquisitors, raiders from the Rotpurgers, burned her house down for 'harboring mutant sympathies. Not knowing what to do, she disappeared into the forest, unknowingly heeding a mysterious call from the deep.
Her hatred of the Inquisition blinded her senses and poisoned her mind. At first, it began with stealing supplies. Then, it was ambushing and killing entire patrols. Firebombs to garrisons. To her, it seemed like she had fallen into a dark abyss with no escape in sight. But the more she fell, the more the voice called upon her, sweet yet sick. At first, the call felt random, indecipherable, even nauseating: a serenade that felt like she was screaming.
But as she communed with nature more and more, she began to understand. No longer her hatred of the Inquisition hold any sway over her. She no longer felt hate against the mutants, the inquisition or anyone for that matter. Spending day after day in doubt, the day she finally opened her heart to the Maiden of Wishes became the day she found her calling: to preserve the living at all costs, for she knew that the dark abyss of hatred brings nothing but the most wicked of evils.
Now all who roam the lands of Cascadia know the legend of Brigid, the Wishmaiden witch-warrior with a heart of silvered steel: the firstmost champion of the Fair Lady Within The Lake.
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
Completing the national focus |
All bowed before Brigid's might.
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Jacobia's Rotpurgers!
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The Wishmaidens were idiots to think they had any chance against his Rotpurgers. The fight was swift—the Rotpurgers gaining the upper hand from their hidden stations. Jacobia revelled in the chaos. It was a dream come true—for long he had waited for an opportunity to squash the pesky Wishmiadens.
Once it was over, a satisfying silence loomed over the warehouse. "Pillage the corpses and burn the bodies!" Jacobia barked. The Rotpurgers quickly got to work. He stood before the body of the Lady, spitting a lob of blood against her dress. He sneered at the peaceful air around her corpse. Even in death, she didn't seem to give a shit.
Though, Jacobia was always curious to see the wench beyond the mask, and so he reached over and pulled it off, scoffing at the sight. "Of course, it's a fuckin' ghoul," he murmured, shooting another bullet into the Lady's gnarled forehead.
"'Hoss, you might wanna take a look at this," said a Purger. Jacobia stood up and followed him outside with the other Rotpurgers in tow.
To his amusement, just out near the woods and by an old stream, huddled around and overturned was Samson and his Infinity Knights. "...And will it be ours, now?" Samson's voice rang out boisterously.
'Don't count on it,' read the bright text on his goddamned ball.
"Would you look at that?" Chuckled Jacobia. "Hey, Samson," he waved, raising his gun as the golden-masked maniac looked up. "Bye, Samson!"
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
The event “Who Could Have Seen This Coming?” option “Jacobia's Rotpurgers!” |
And so the evening ended with a clean purge.
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The Lady's Wishmaidens!
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The Wishmaidens had won their brief skirmish with the Rotpurgers. The Lady watched calmly in the centre of the madness; bullets, shrapnel, and blood merely grazing her. And when the madness died down, she stepped towards Jacobia's body. His breath was haggard, and his mask had been torn off, revealing a grimace accentuated with maddened, glazed eyes.
"...Bitch," spat Jacobia.
The Lady stooped down before him. "Save your strength," she whispered as she grabbed his face and tilted it towards her. "For I will set you free." Though her grip on Jacobia's jaw tightened none, he trembled beneath her. Blood began to leak from his nose, eyes, and ears. She dropped him back to the ground soon after. "Scavenge what you can. Then we leave," she commanded, brushing past her Wishmaidens as they scurried to work.
"What of Samson?" A Wishmaiden asked her.
"We find him after we stoke this fire," said the Lady, glancing over his shoulder. "There is no escape for fools."
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
The event “Who Could Have Seen This Coming?” option “The Lady's Wishmaidens!” |
The moon shone happily upon the Lady.
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Samson's Infinity Knights!
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'Ask again later' the Infinity Orb said, and then 'Ask again later', and again and again.. The orb had continued to advise caution for long hours, even as the sounds of gunfire and war shrieks rang out from inside the old town where the meeting was undoubtedly taking place. Huddled in the dark under the rotting boat.
"Divine Gods, Is it time to attack?" Samson asked once more. An Infinity Knight failed to stifle a cough. Barely legible in the flickering flame of his old vault-tec branded lighter, came the answer, 'It is decidedly so'. With an hoot of delight Samson tossed away his makeshift shelter and stood up tall before his shivering warriors. Holding high the snapping jaws of his bear trap gauntlet, Samson gave the knights the signal to charge.
The battle that had taken place between the Wishmaidens and Jacobia's followers had been savage and bloody, with most of the fighters on both sides dead when the Infinity Knights arrived. The Wishmaidens had come out on top in the fray but had lost too many of their number to give the new arrivals more than a token resistance. The Lady herself had been kneeling over Jacobia as he slowly died beneath her, her attention focused on the fallen former leader and their parting words.
"VICTORY BEHOLD!" Cried Samson as he crashed through a window. When the mad leader of the Knights landed on steady ground, he sprinted at Lady with his bear trap gauntlet at the ready. The Lady had time to do no more than sigh.
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
The event “Who Could Have Seen This Coming?” option “Samson's Infinity Knights!” |
The wisdom of the Orb prevails as always!
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A Gift Horse's Mouth
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Jacobia listened to the satisfying crunch of snow under his boots as he climbed up the tall hill to look down into the valley. It had been a short time since they set up the old battered GECK they'd won off those wacko dancer types, and as far as Jacobia knew they were supposed to change the land and make it nice to live in. He and his fellow Purgers certainly deserved such a reward after all the hard work and sacrifices they'd made, so he allowed himself a bit of optimism about what he'd find in the formerly barren area. Those good vibes crumbled as he reached the top and looked down.
Inside his mask Jacobia's jaw dangled wide open for a while as his guards made their way up onto the ridge behind him, their gasps and murmuring reflecting his own feelings. There were trees and bushes where before there had been rocks and snow sure, but in place of the healthy greens he'd expected were garish reds and bruised purples that hurt his eyes to look at. It was different but uncomfortably similar to the strange red forests the Bonedancers had made their homes in, at least before they'd been burned out. Numbly, Jacobia slid down the hillside towards the valley to take a closer look with his guards close behind.
They soon walked under the unsettling canopy, listening to the strange scraping noise the leaves made as the wind gently rustled them. Dangling from the branches of the trees were large, blue fruits covered in strange growths, and the bushes were heavy-laden with thorny berries in yellow and orange. The entire wood had an odor that crept through their masks and reminded them of the rancid stink of burning ghouls. Only the spring that had arisen in the heart of his new forest looked right to them, burbling cheerfully amidst the unnatural. Jacobia had seen more than enough then and marched right back out of the valley until they were well clear of the trees before saying one thing to his men.
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
Completing the national focus |
"Torch this fucking atrocity." (Nothing) | |
Infinity Knights in Infinity Armor
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Many great prizes had fallen into the hands of Sir Samson and his endless Infinity Knights but few were more wonderful than the stores of power armour claimed from the wastrels of Washington. It took many days for the Orb to reveal the secrets of proper use and maintenance of the mighty suits of armour but its wisdom had eventually provided as always. Now it was time to decide who among the ranks would be given the right to one, and Samson had assembled his greatest warriors to be judged of their worthiness.
Walking down the line and stopping before each of the eager champions Samson made a grand ceremony of each judging; holding out the great Orb to the prospect as he shouted to the heavens "SHOULD THIS KNIGHT BE GRANTED A SHIMMERING SUIT OF SHINING STEEL TO BATTLE AT MY SIDE FOREVER!? SPEAK YOUR JUDGEMENT GODS". A cheer went out as the first in line, Sir Lucas, read aloud the reply: 'You May Rely On It'. Samson himself cheered along, leaping in joy.
This process was repeated with each hopeful Knight. Cheers erupted at each of the Orb's chosen worthies, silence greeted those who were told that the reply was hazy and to ask again later, and conciliatory pats on the back were given to those for whom the outlook was not so good. The sun rose to its apex and began to set before the judging was over, and Samsons powerful cries to the gods had taken a decidedly hoarse tone, but when it was over there stood a proud group of heroes ready to be suited up and fight unto infinity.
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
Completing the national focus File:Power armour raider overboss.png “Next, a Crown of Gold!” |
"LET US PRESS ONWARD!" (Nothing) | |
Not So Divine After All
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While Jacobia had died attempting to cling to his power and dark dreams in battle, Samson and his followers had sat out the fray paralyzed by indecision. Their ridiculous orb had failed to give them any guidance in the days after the 'meeting', and the Wishmaidens were able to round up the bulk of them at their leisure. Samson himself had emerged from his hideout with slumped shoulders to peacefully surrender after The Lady had called for him to consult the ball on whether he'd been defeated. Upon the face of the Orb he clutched tight in his hands were written the words 'Without a Doubt'.
Determined to expose the distinctly mortal nature of her one time ally, The Lady held a public gathering to humiliate the mad prophet. She began by executing the Orb itself, shattering it with the weight of her contempt and skepticism. Held in chains and stripped of his armor and mask, Samson gave out a choked squeal as it fell to powder in her hands. His former followers watched on and flinched as hot tar was then poured over him and feathers were dumped over the top. As his bonds were released the former knight fled shrieking and gibbering from the scene, into the forest.
Those who had once viewed his word as holy knew then that he and his Orb had been nothing in the face of the Lady and her power, renouncing their former loyalties to Samson. They would assimilate with the Wishmaidens in the days that followed, giving themselves to a new cause peacefully. As for the former prophet of infinity he would be spotted sometimes afterwards roaming the wastes, always mumbling endless questions to which no answers were forthcoming.
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
Completing the national focus File:Hot woman on fishman action.png “Bring Me The One They Call Samson” |
There goes my hero... Just kidding. (Nothing) | |
Atop the Needle
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Samson rarely reflected on the past, the voices of the gods usually filled his mind with a cacophony of directions on how to meet the future instead. Standing before the great tower that climbed unto the very heavens, only more impressive for the mass of shattered buildings that sprawled around it, gave Samson a moment of pause however. A moment of clarity in his normally muddy mind as he thought about what life had been like only a few scant years ago. From being the beaten dog of the Rotpurgers to scrabbling through the wilderness alone to his discovery of the mystic sphere that had been his companion through all the many battles he and his knights had fought to reach this ground.
Grateful tears ran beneath his mask, as were it not for the Infinity Mind he'd have truly had no clue where to begin on the long and twisted journey that had brought him to this moment of glory. His faithful knights waited behind, unwilling to interrupt their prophet in his moment of reverie, instead watching for any threats that may emerge from the ruins. Finally the moment had passed and Samson tightly grasped at the wondrous Orb that had given him so much guidance before asking quietly "Are we home?". A quick shake and the reply was a simple: 'Yes'.
Unable to contain himself any longer Samson let loose with a shriek of pure exhilaration and joy before running towards the tower. His knights scrambled to follow their leader as his mania sent him speeding ahead. Calling back to them Samson cried "THE GODS HAVE GIFTED US A NEW HOME, ONE FROM WHICH WE CAN VIEW THEIR MANY WORKS FROM ON HIGH!". Soon he was dashing up the great stairs that spiralled around the outside of the tower, nearly hurling himself from the edge in his excitement multiple times. Despite the exertion, Samson still had the energy to scream as he reached the top...
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
Completing the national focus |
"WELCOME TO CASTLE SAMSON!" (Nothing) | |
By The Cold River
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"Apple slice?" Creusa offered to the girl sat on a large, mossy rock. The girl shook her head, prompting Creusa to leave the slices on a bedding of leaves, right beside the rest of the food she'd been preparing for the upcoming fast.
The girl sank deeper into her coat, her gaze flickering to the green-crusted mask she'd thrown aside. "Why did you bring me here?" She asked.
"Why did I?" Creusa mused with a knowing chuckle. They'd found the girl just recently; hidden under the collapsed remains of a Rotpurger stronghold. Whoever her father was, he was most likely gone; ran or killed, the difference mattered none. "I hear you are hurt, and that you refuse treatment from the Clergy."
Creusa could sense it then; a risible, clawing fear of something resentful and hopeless. She recognized it. It was the sort that drowns you in the woods. She grabbed the girl's arm and pulled her to the ground before she could run. The coat shucked off from the girl's shoulders, revealing untreated burns all over her skin. The girl's fierce gaze demanded she'd be let go.
"What would you have then if I did?" Countered Creusa who shoved a cup of soup in the girl's other hand. "Drink this, and then, when you are finished, you can lose yourself to the wilds."
Hesitantly, the girl obliged, drinking slowly from the cup. In the meantime, Creusa fetched her coat and placed it back gently onto her shoulder, humming a slow song as she did. The girl watched in wonder as the inflammation of her burns died down—the blotches slowly fading.
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
Completing the national focus |
She stayed.
The Lady could only chuckle. "It was love."§! | |
An Infinite Audience
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Gabrielle had been sitting on the half-burnt bench outside the old Spokane Post Office for hours, waiting for someone to either let her in or tell her to leave. Screwy little Samson was holding court here today, for reasons that probably made sense to him, and she was hoping to get a meeting with the man. Each time she asked one of his knights whether she could see him, he'd walk off and then return to say something pointless like 'hazy reply' or 'better not tell you now'. It was infuriating, and she'd have left if her stubbornness had let her, but she kept asking whenever a knight walked by. Finally one of them opened the door and told her "Signs point to yes!"
Inside they pointed her to the office where Samson was decorating the walls with scribbles of his infinity symbol. He'd been cheerfully mumbling to himself when Gabrielle entered, but turned his golden gaze upon her after she made a few less than subtle coughs. In his off hand rested the Orb that was his constant companion. She'd never actually seen it before and it was less impressive than she'd imagined; just a dull black ball with a small window looking inside.
Samson looked down to the Orb too, following her gaze before looking back up and loudly greeting her, nearly shouting "Welcome to the Study of Sir Samson! The gods have given you this chance to ask me whatever you like! What do you want!?"
Flinched before running through the pitch she'd had ready in her mind for the last few days "My name is Gabrielle, I used to help the old 'purgers and I want to help you and your… subjects move into the future. Putting together workshops, setting up farms, teaching some of these brutes how to do more than fight and raid, that kind of thing. Now that those ghastly monsters have been cleared out of Spokane we have the chance to build a proper na- kingdom here. I just need resources and authority to get to work." As she finished speaking, Gabrielle tried to gauge what Samsons reaction was or even if he'd been paying attention. There was an uncomfortable silence as his empty golden eyes stared into hers.
Finally he broke the quiet by suddenly holding up the Orb and shrieking towards the ceiling...
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
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"GODS! WHAT IS YOUR COUNSEL? SHOULD I GRANT THIS GABRIELLE HER WISH?"
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The Thorned Rose
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This is a community maintained wiki. If you spot a mistake then you are welcome to fix it. |
Jacobia leaned back in his new plush chair and idly tossed darts across the room at a ratty photograph on the wall. For now he'd made his headquarters in one of the old hotels that still stood tall amongst the ruins of Spokane; moving back into Vault 100 was the dream but he wanted to have some of the grunts scrub the ghoul stink out of it first. His thoughts ran over the last few weeks and how well it had all gone. The home of his fathers had been reclaimed, the ghouls had been put to the torch, that sneaky Bitch of the Lake was dead and poor, stupid, crazy Samson lay in a shallow grave right next to her. "I should be happy" he said to no one in particular, using a dart to pick at his teeth before tossing it after the others.
His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door followed by a muffled voice saying "Boss, we've got her downstairs. You want her?"
"Yeah get her ass up here, let's get this over with." Jacobia replied while hurling the last dart irritably.
Gabrielle has been both a help and a pain in his ass over the last few years. There was no doubt she'd been loyal, or that she hadn't wanted to reclaim Vault 100 from the zombies as much as anyone else. She had proved that by staying when so many of the 'purgers women had snuck off to join the wishfucks. She was useful too; smart, good at setting up workshops and finding fuel for the flame smiths, but she was so damn mouthy and too smart. She kept trying to get his men to stop and build shops and farms and shit like that. Jacobia wanted to rally his men for something greater, to build an army of fire that would purge all those rotten ghouls from the wasteland. Now maybe she had a point, a crusade couldn't march very without food or weapons, but maybe it didn't matter if she had a point if she was pissing him off.
Footsteps could be heard approaching as he stood up and put his mask back on. He grunted in response to the knock that came after, and two of his men led Gabrielle into the room. Jacobia could tell the woman had no idea how close to disaster she was, as she wasted no time in speaking up "Jacobia, I'm glad you wanted me to come see you! Now that Vault 100 and Spokane are pure there's so much more to be done. We have a chance to build something to really last here."
The silence that filled the room after she finished did seem to make her nervous then, and she looked to the men flanking her and back to Jacobia looking for any sign of agreement. Jacobia walked slowly to look out the window and waved for her to come closer before the silence was finally broken by--
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
Completing the national focus File:Helm marine.png “The Next Step (Of Many, We Assume)” |
Alright, tell me what you fuckin' need.
The Sound of Shattering Glass and a Thud...
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Samson, The Truest Demigod
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This is a community maintained wiki. If you spot a mistake then you are welcome to fix it. |
If you were to ask anyone how 'The Redemption Of Washington' played out, the story would be consistent in each iteration. Word of mouth forges fantasies, shucking aside the finer, insignificant details, but the epic of Samson cannot be enjoyed withouts its 'yes', 'maybe's', and 'no's'
So, The Redemption Of Washington, as all storytellers would begin, "Is a tale of love and loss. Of gods against men. Of the Infinity Knights giving Washington a run for their fucking money."
They say Samson charged through the front of the Immortal's lair, knocking up his adversaries with his bear trap gauntlet in one hand and the Infinity Orb in his other. The Infinity Knights flooded in behind him like a cape of divine glory.
And when they had scourged Washington of heretics, Samson stepped atop the Immortal's body and raised the Infinity Orb to the sky. He asked the Gods if glory was theirs— a crackle of thunder echoed from the distance—and in the truest, brightest words, it told him:
"Without a doubt."
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
Completing the national focus |
And he was then crowned the Slayer of the Immortal. (Nothing) | |
What Monsters Deserve
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This is a community maintained wiki. If you spot a mistake then you are welcome to fix it. |
The Rotpurgers that did not bow to the Wishmaidens now lay in a burnt pile outside of Vault 100. Their gatherer, Galahadria the Bold, said this to onlookers: "Hear me, people of Spokane: it is their misdeeds that shall stay their souls from the beyond. This pit shall serve as a reminder to us all of what may happen, and a reminder to them that Avalon shall never consider them worthy of its fruit." For those who looked too long, the Maiden Elite that were present would stare back-- a damning gaze that said all that needed to be said to travelers and locals alike.
With the Lady's blessings, a mint-colored mist washed across the land. In it, armadas of women in scrapped armor, all composed of a sickly oxidized sort of copper, marched outward with heavy hearts and heavier weaponry. Without the Rotpurgers to keep them in check, their 'justice' would now prevail...
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
Completing the national focus |
The Maidens toil against trouble. (Nothing) | |
An ode to Galahadria
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This is a community maintained wiki. If you spot a mistake then you are welcome to fix it. |
On a strange day, a blizzard led a soldier from lands to the east astray-- her unit destroyed in an avalanche. When she was found, it was not by her colleagues, but by the village faithful: when they brought her home, the Lady washed her of her burdens, and so it was that she became Galahadria, the second daughter of the Lady.
Though her mind would oftentimes long for days she no longer remembered, her devotion to the Lady was greater than almost any other. When the Brotherhood arrived in Seattle, she was the first to answer, and so Galahadria rode west, where she slaughtered all that she saw and spared no expense in stemming the tide of monsters.
Galahadria is feared, and for good reason. Even among the children, they tell ghost stories of her; many claiming her tomahawks would not just rend the body but the soul itself, binding them to Earth for all eternity.
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
Completing the national focus File:Generic honey.png “Nutrients of the Earth” |
From one life to another. (Nothing) | |
Without a Doubt
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This is a community maintained wiki. If you spot a mistake then you are welcome to fix it. |
The ball decrees it is time!
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
Finishing the decision “Samson Ponders the Orb...” |
Long live King Samson!
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Try Again Next Time
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This is a community maintained wiki. If you spot a mistake then you are welcome to fix it. |
The ball decrees we must wait... Oh well.
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
Finishing the decision “Samson Ponders the Orb...” |
Hopefully soon...
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Maybe Later
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This is a community maintained wiki. If you spot a mistake then you are welcome to fix it. |
Samson's shoulders sag. "The gods are quiet today. Please, go wait outside, fair Gabrielle. I will speak with them more." he says, sighing wearily.
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
The event “An Infinite Audience” option “"GODS! WHAT IS YOUR COUNSEL? SHOULD I GRANT THIS GABRIELLE HER WISH?"” |
Um, alright?
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Absolutely
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This is a community maintained wiki. If you spot a mistake then you are welcome to fix it. |
Samson yips, "So it shall be! Come, come-- let us speak more of this..." he said, gesturing for Gabrielle to take a seat...
Trigger conditions
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Is triggered only by
The event “An Infinite Audience” option “"GODS! WHAT IS YOUR COUNSEL? SHOULD I GRANT THIS GABRIELLE HER WISH?"” |
Hope for the best?
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