RPG Archives Post-Apocalypse Now - Prologue

Skie looked at the man slowly after he had been attacked and took his hand and held it and started stroking it in a hypnotic way. "Hey, you decided to wake up and take a walk on the wild side, didn't you?" Skie grabbed her tape recorder and pressed record. "Ok, I need to ask you some questions. Were you sure it was numans who attacked you, and did you provoke them in any way?"

 

James woke up faintly. He took a minute to look around and get somewhat oriented with his surroundings.

"..." No words came, but then he tried again, "Wh.... Where am I? What am I doing on this?"

Then, he recalled the questions. He made perfect eye contact with Skie, and stared right into her eyes with his black ones. "I was just about to enter the city, from my last stop about 2 months ago in a city, I was looking for something. I don't know what, but whatever it was, I was searching for it. As soon as I saw this giant collection of Numan fiends, I raised my 45. and ordered a pass. Its not so hard to kill one Numan alone, but I underestimated their strength in groups. So as they let out some strange battle cry, I fired seven shots into the crowd of them.

"Two fell. Then, seeing their dead comrads, the Numans became completly enraged and launched at me. Baring their teeth and having the claws such as they gave them the greater advantage. They savagely attacked me, over the two fallen. If such a disturbance is to enrage such a pack of these fiends, let me not be present when their empire falls, if it ever does."

As James finished his speech, he looked around frantically, where were his things? "Where are my handguns? Where is the ammunition? Where are my supplies?"

 

"Sir, calm down. This is just normal TC procedures. I have your guns and ammunition, and don't think I am just going to give them back, you just killed a numan. And they are beings too."
Skie sighed heavily, and starting writing down heavily on her pad of paper.
"Ok. Lets go over this, you shot two innocent numans, the other ones came back after you and attacked you. Right? Well you know that you've got some serious problems, James."

 

"I never gave you my name." James looked at Skie in a very strange way, How had she known his name?

After which, he took in the information she gave him, "I just had to make sure my babies were safe. And yes, I just killed two numans."

Then, James looked down for a bit and back at Skie, "I wouldn't call these particular beasts innocent. They were the two numans that were ordering their packs to charge at this very city. On top of wanting to pass, it was the one thing I could do to try and stop the raid. Guess it didn't work. I know about some species in this world that can only carry out violence when they have a commander present, they won't fight without a leader. Guess numans aren't these.

So, yes, I shot and killed two numans, but I wouldn't begin to call them 'innocent'. And I really don't see what the problem is. I have seen numans forced to enter the ring and fight simply for the entertainment of men. I have seen numans being whipped and abused solely for the purpose of enjoyment. With so much hatred towards them, I figured 'Hell, if those bastards can get away with what they do, who's going to care in the human world that I killed two who wanted to harm a city of man?

Guess I was wrong. So, what is the punishment for what I have done?" James seemed all the more ready to accept his punishment and get this over with.

 

"First of all James, it is quite easy to know who you are. We know you down at TC."
Skie grabbed a book out of her bag and started to flip through it. Skie stopped at a certain page and sat down next to James. "Ok. First of all I know all of this numan-human problems, and I am not going to let it keep on continuing. We are convicting currently anyone who finds pleasure in killing them. Well I see you were protecting yourself, so basically all you have to do is 100 hours of community service. You are getting off easily but if this happens again there is definitely going to be jail time."

 

James had a little chuckle, "I'm glad I'm well known.

"As for the punishment, I have no objections at all. How can I start my service to your community? I have heard rumors that a party plans to leave for some place, they called it the CDvault or something to that effect. Can I ask what that is about?" James seemed quite interested in the topic.

As he listened, he seemed completely oblivious to the pain of his scars and wounds.

 

"New law, James, took place with TC a month ago. It's my duty to make sure that there are no more deaths occuring, we're trying to give a new side to our organization, and attract more people." Skie grabbed her transmitter and spoke softly into it. "What do you think, Ryan, should we drag him along?"

 

"Oh, I'm going to DC regardless if you are deciding to join or not, just saying that if you come with me, I at least know the land and know how to control numans towards our advantage, INSTEAD OF SHOOTING THEM."

 

Arc shook his head. He was amazed at the hostility on both sides.

"Okay, look. Before we go anywhere, we have to elect a leader for our party. Democracy is all fine and dandy, but when push comes to shove, we're going to have to agree quickly. Now, I feel bad about killing numans, but I feel even worse about getting killed. Let's be honest with ourselves- are the lives of these numans worth more to us than our own lives?"

He sat down quickly. "There's just got to be an easier way than fighting our way across the wasteland."

 

"Don't look at me like that, Arc, we know you down at TC too." Skie paced back and forth. "I don't know who would be best? Seriously, I do not know any of you that well enough to decide this choice, any of you happen to have any good ideas?"

 

The resident physician looks at the discussing group from the nearby gurney at which he is tending another patient. Particularly, he looks at Skie.
"You TC asswads should learn some respect," he growls, obvious political ire in his voice. "We've told you before, New Windsor doesn't want to be part of your little clique, and if you're going to keep trying to force your rules on our city, I just might have to call the guard and have you thrown out of the city walls.
"My father was killed in a numan attack when I was a boy. The beasts managed to take down part of the wall and got into the city. The man took out eight of the bastards with his deagle before they got to him. I've seen them fight. Believe me, they aren't people. They're animals. Stupid, ferocious animals."

He pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry about that," he continues, calmed down. "Politics and numans are touchy subjects for me. I guess as a doctor I should just worry about medicine from now on ...
"Anyway, I couldn't help but overhearing that you believe that bunk about DCVault. Let me tell you, that man back there [he points through the door to one of the patient rooms] is crazy. You can go right ahead and talk to him, if you want to, but remember, he's off his rocker."

 

Arc shrugged. "I don't expect to lead. I was going to follow Ryan, honestly."

He stifled a laugh at the doctor's brash comments. It seemed like he had a reason though. A terrible reason, a terribly valid one.

Arc rose at the doctor's words. "I'm going to see him right now."

He walked towards the room, following Ryan. He listened to Ryan's words. "Please...Tell us what you know."

He was beginning to include himself and the others in a group when he thought of them.

 

James was quite intrigued by the subject. "Excuse me, can anyone tell me more about this 'DC Vault'? I would really like to know what's going on here."

Sensing a bit of tension, and awaiting an answer, James began to look around the room for his guns.

 

OOC: Whos Joining our crazy 4 some?

BIC: Skie turned to the doctor. "Yes, numans seem to be a touchy subject with most people today. We are trying to see their point of view, and see if it is really worthwhile to exterminate their species."
Skie ran into the room, and went into the room with Arc and tried to see who it was.

 

Getting no response from this party, James got up from his hospital bed and began to put his equipment back on. His holsters were made to fit his legs and his legs only. The reason he kept the guns on his legs were because of their length. When he got the two holsters situated on his legs firmly, he replaced the extra magazines for each gun.

Each holster held two extra magazines and the 14 mm gun's magazines held 8 rounds each. His long barreled .45 held 9 rounds per magazine. As he finished his extra magazines, he holstered both guns with a big 'click'.

As soon as this was done, he put on his trench coat and walked in front of a mirror to fix his tie.

Once he was fully clothed and equipped, he walked into the room with the 'crazy man' to see what in the world this fuss was about.

 

Dumbfounded by the interest in a crazy man's ramblings, the doctor was left just staring through the door beyond which the group vanished.
Catching up with James, the doctor Reached into his lab coat and withdrew a small bottle of pills. Looking at the label to make sure he had grabbed the right one, he handed the bottle to James.
"Painkillers," he explained. "Your wounds shouldn't take too long to heal. You're hurt, but you're also lucky, and you don't have any broken bones. Just take one of these now and again and you should be fine. By the way, try and stay out of trouble. I really hate it when a patient becomes a regular customer."

In the back room, the merchant rolled over under the hospital blanket. His face was scarred with stitches from the attack, and he had a bandage wrapped around most of his head, covering his left eye. Part of one of his ears looked as though it had been bitten off. Scars covered the exposed shoulder of his left arm, but they looked less recent than the other marks. The other arm was covered by a rigid white cast to allow the fractured limb to set.
"So ..." the man rasped. "More 'doctors' to call me crazy? Well, you can mock all you want, but I only said what I saw. And you can all just go to hell."
As the merchant succumbed to a fit of coffing, you assure him that you are not like his earlier visitors, and that you are genuinely interested in his story. He seems convinced, for he continues his tale.
"I was exploring a cave with some of my bodyguards down south a ways," he begins. "We were following a tip we received from some tribals about a Vault ... looking for some pre-war tech we could <cough> sell off for some decent coin in the next town. What we found was much more than we could have imagined.
"The Vault in question," he continues, drawing in a deep, raspy breath. "did not in fact exist, at least not where the tribals told us it was. We did, however, find two things of particular interest: a journal, and a data-pad.
"The journal belonged to a woman named Laura Cabali, or something like that. Most of it was just personal stuff about what she thought of places she visited and people she met, but eventually I came across one entry that caught my eye. This entry mentioned a man I believe you would know as the Founder. Apparently, these two began to travel together for a time, searching for something, but she was very vague as to what exactly it was. She also kept going on about a fascination with technology, and trying to find whatever she was looking for to restore its treasures to the world.
"In one of the final entries, she mentions a dispute she had with the Founder once they had found 'it'. They were torn over what to do with it, whether to seal it up or to share it with everyone. Something about him not wanting it to fall into the wrong hands and her having dreams of a technologically advanced future. I gather he won the argument, because the datapad appeared to have been discarded, as if she thought it would be meaningless if the Vault was sealed up."
After that long speech, he started coughing again, gasping for a drink of water, which a nurse gave him. Finally, he continued.
"The map contained a list of several Vaults, many of which I had never heard of, and some of which have since formed their own cities topside. The list looked pretty comprehensive, but some of the data had become scrambled, and only a few of the Vaults were actually labelled as a result. One of these Vaults was called Blue River, and was in a region labelled 'Kentucky', farther south. A little note described this as a central computer that housed much knowledge about the Vaults and the world before the war. My companions and I decided to eventually travel to Blue River to find out the location of DCVault, but first we had to travel up here to New Windsor to deliver a special package to an old friend here in town. Of course, I lost that package in the attack ... and then the doctor was kind enough to inform me that my friend had died less than a month before my arrival.
"At any rate, both the journal and the map were lost in the attack. Numans usually don't take technological items in attacks, only really stealing weapons or shiny things, so both should probably still be there, if you can find them.
"And if you do take up my search, if you find my package, please return it to me. My friend would not have wanted it in the hands of savages. It contained a jewelled necklace I believe belonged to a relative of his before the war ... saphires set in gold ... truly a beautiful piece. If you bring that to me, you would have made an old man happy."
Exhausted from the conversation and his aggravated wounds, the merchant collapsed back into his bed and fell asleep, his raspy voice and the beep of the heart monitor the only sounds in the room.