Fallout: Choose your own Adventure

Re: Fallout: Choose your own Adventure

Postby jdot07 » Wed Oct 12, 2011 2:39 pm

Meet with the militia and discuss a plan
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Re: Fallout: Choose your own Adventure

Postby Musashi1596 » Thu Oct 13, 2011 4:47 pm

Cheers, J.
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You figure that diplomacy might not be the best approach with such unpredictable characters and decide to meet with the town militia to assess your options. Shortly thereafter you find yourself in what most closely resembles a 'town hall'. The militia are seated before you, dressed mostly in well polished Mark 2 Metal Armour, with some (you presume those of a higher rank) dressed in dull green Combat Armour. There are ten of them, 8 men and two women. One of them, a haggard man with a brown beard lying underneath his green half-helmet, is tossing and catching a large, serrated combat knife. O'Connor, naturally in charge of the group, regards you with a nod. You exchange pleasantries with the rest of the group before getting down to business. A tall, shaven headed man in metal armour speaks up in a deep voice.

"Our equipment is pretty decent. Between the eleven of us we have nine 10mm pistols, three .32 revolvers, three .223 hunting rifles and two scopes, three 10mm sub machineguns, two M16 assault rifles, two laser rifles and a combat shotgun. Plus plenty of ammo, grenades, knives, that sort of thing. Oh, and two spare sets of this metal armour." He smiles, seemingly pleased with himself. O'Connor scratches his clean shaven chin.

"Plus the .45 I carry. A fair bit of firepower, to be sure, but we really don't know what were dealing with. There were only two who came to visit us but we know there's more of them. The two that came were quite well armed. One of them, Jackson, wears metal armour like most of us, but has a combat helmet, and an AK47. The other guy, I didn't catch his name, he doesn't really speak. Huge guy, wears a welding mask and lots of sports padding. Bastard had a flamethrower. Now we don't normally take the advice of outsiders but I think we could do with a hand here. We can't agree on what to do." One of the girls, a young and pretty redhead wearing combat armour gets to her feet. "What do you think?", she asks you, a hint of caution in her voice.

Lock the town gates and prepare to fight / Try to set up an ambush / Enter the ruins and try to strike first / Try to talk them into leaving
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Re: Fallout: Choose your own Adventure

Postby jdot07 » Thu Oct 13, 2011 6:23 pm

Enter the ruins and try to strike first
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Re: Fallout: Choose your own Adventure

Postby Musashi1596 » Thu Oct 20, 2011 9:07 pm

You feel nervous as the heavy gates slowly swing open. You have been given the Combat Shotgun, as the least experienced of the group it was a unanimous decision that you get the weapon that requires the least precise marksmanship. Gripping it tightly you survey the now mobilised militia around you, they look quite the sight in all of their gear. You've also been given a spare set of old leather armour (the metal armour was too heavy for you, you quickly discovered) which if nothing else makes you feel better. You have the strangest feeling that a shotgun just goes well with the outfit, and suddenly kind of wish you had a dog.

O'Connor has instructed you to stay by his side, seeing as you insisted on joining them. He held his magnum in his left hand, supporting it with his right hand in which he held a serrated combat knife. The team was beginning to split into teams of two and fan out, each pair gradually disappearing into the darkness. There was an awful lot of potentially hostile ground to cover. It doesn't feel like long before you hear the first gunshots. Judging by their loudness you guess it's probably hunting rifles being fired. The fanfare stops as quickly as it has started, and a barely audible voice whispers over the radio transmitter that O'Connor is carrying. "Three down, no casualties." You try to place the voice but it's little more than a whisper. You think it was one of the women. Silence again, but despite the fact that you were already fairly sure there were more than the two who had made themselves known, the confirmation of the fact still unnerved you.

Your eyes dart around the ruined buildings and watch your footing carefully but you can't place any threats. They probably know they're under attack by now so it pays to be careful, and they aren't all stationed in the same place so it pays to be careful. Truth be told, you can't see much in the darkness, your vision was never excellent and the dark is beginning to strain...
Your train of thought is immediately cut off by a deafening gunshot. Instinctively you drop to the ground. It takes you a couple of seconds before you look up and see O'Connor with his pistol pointing ahead, eyes darting around and the smoking barrel of his gun following his gaze. He barely looks fazed but there is still a ringing in your ears. He drags you into cover before he takes out his radio and hits the transmission button. "One down, no casualties", he says quietly in his gruff voice. It's not long before you're moving again, but it seems like the unfortunate victim was on his own. You check his body for anything salvegeable, trying not to vomit at the large yet neat entry wound in his forehead. However, it looks like he was only armed with a tire iron and you doubt you could use it well. Nobody else appears so you both keep moving. You consider it unlikely he would have been on his own, however. Probably cut away to relieve himself.

You hear some more gunfire, the rapid rat-tat-tat- of 10mm SMGs, a few by the sound of it, the almost otherwordly sound of a laser rifle, and small arms fire. Screaming and shouting too. It stops and O'Connor slows down. Static can be heard from his radio and for several seconds you both listen intently, the static almost deafening amongst the enveloping silence. Your heart jumps a mile when the static is interrupted by a loud, guttural scream and a smashing noise, before the noise stops. It even seems to have shaken O'Connor up. Another voice can then be heard, a lot louder than the whispered transmissions earlier, and you think it's the bald armourer. "What the fuck just happened?". You think the sound came from the East and you tell O'Connor as such, who relays it into the radio. You gather from the (now hushed again) chatter that everyone plans to head to the source and investigate, if not from the same direction. An ambush is all too likely. And backing off is certainly not an option, you suspect negotiations have been rather recently ruled out. You do have an idea though, crazy as it might be.

Approach on your own to talk and buy time for a surprise attack, backed up from long range / Join in a conventional attack and hope to surround them / Take it slowly and try to take them from afar
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Re: Fallout: Choose your own Adventure

Postby jdot07 » Sun Oct 23, 2011 1:26 pm

Join in a conventional attack and hope to surround them.
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Re: Fallout: Choose your own Adventure

Postby Musashi1596 » Mon Oct 24, 2011 1:16 am

You tell O'Connor what you think you should do. He whispers a few nonsense words into his radio and, upon seeing your confused expression, can't help but smile. "Codewords. If they got one of the radios we wouldn't want to be telling them our plan now, would we?". You shake your head slowly and he continues. "The others will be getting into position, let's get going." You both head towards the source of the noise, the silence adding to the already pronounced tension. It feels like an unbearably long time before O'Connor raises his closed, gloved fist, indicating for you to stop. He motions to the distance and following it, you can just barely make out glancing at the burning campfire below you has destroyed your (admittedly not brilliant to begin with) natural night vision. After your eyes adjust to the brightness of the flame you look down and take the scene in. You're close enough to get a good look, but are sure to keep your head down and avoid being spotted.

There are six men sat around the fire, one of them clutching a bleeding arm.They all seem to be lightly armed. Tire irons, baseball bats, a sledgehammer, a fire axe and spears litter the camp, some held by the men and some just stuck into the dirt. They are all wearing leather armour similar to your own along with the hard yellow construction hats that were once seen so frequently back at the mine. You nervously rub the shortened barrel of your combat shotgun. You sit and watch for a while until a very faint voice crackles through the radio. "All in position bar four, no sign." O'Connor looked grim as he turned to you and asked if you were ready. You nodded your approval, almost imperceptably, trying to ignore the sweat beading on your forehead despite the cool of the night. He brings the radio up and holds the transmit button and you fidget a little. You have them surrounded and outgunned but there is no trace of your four allies.

Ask O'Connor to order capturing, rather than killing / Wait for the order and start shooting
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Re: Fallout: Choose your own Adventure

Postby jdot07 » Wed Nov 02, 2011 11:56 pm

Wait for the order and start shooting
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Re: Fallout: Choose your own Adventure

Postby Musashi1596 » Mon Nov 07, 2011 12:00 am

The word comes quietly, but it is crystal clear. "Go." The gunfire starts almost immediately afterwards, muzzle flashes illuminating the area sporadically and loud gunfire really ramming home the reality of the situation to you. Clouds of dirt and dust rise from the floor as stray bullets thud into the cold ground. You point your combat shotgun at the cowering raiders and pull the trigger; the recoil almost knocks the gun from your hands and the noise makes your ears ring but you manage to loose off another shot in a respectable time. You think you hit someone, kind of hard to tell in the confusion. It's only a few seconds before the gunfire dies down. Nobody below you is moving. Never stood a chance. Everyone seems to be making their way down to the bodies; O'Connor indicates for you to follow with him. Three of the group remain where they are, weapons raised and scanning the area. You never were much good at climbing and fall the last metre or so. Your legs hurt as you stumble to your feet but it's your pride that hurt more. Poker face firmly in place, you pick your dropped shotgun up and walk towards the bodies with everyone else, ignoring O'Connor's faint chuckling.

The milita are examining the corpses for anything salvageable. One of them, a small man decked out in metal armour that's just a little bit too big for him, and who is apparently named Johnson, stands up from the body he was searching and rubs his hands. "Not carrying much, mostly armed with the melee weapons we saw lying about. Generally leather armour, not much use now I guess. I don't th-"

He was cut off mid sentence by the sudden loss of his lower jaw. His eyes went wild with shock and looked downwards, hopelessly trying to search for what was no longer there before keeling over backwards and remaining still. There was another loud crack and a shout of pain; you coudn't work out who it came from until the rifle hit the floor next to you and a heavy, metal-clad body landed on top of it a second later, almost knocking you out on the way. Needing no cue from the militia you drop to the floor like they do and take cover behind the body. Gunshots are sounding off everywhere and the militia are frantically shouting, not that you can really make out what they are saying. It's hard to tell who is hit and who isn't, though the cries of pain indicate several casualties. Nobody seems to know if the return fire is having any effect. It slowly dies down before the fire stops entirely. Heavily approaching footsteps can be heard amongst the moans of the wounded militia. You force yourself to calm down and think what you should do.

Play dead with the corpse next to you / Get ready to meet the footsteps, gun in hand
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Re: Fallout: Choose your own Adventure

Postby deathbynumbers » Thu Nov 17, 2011 12:25 pm

Play dead.
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Re: Fallout: Choose your own Adventure

Postby Musashi1596 » Sat Nov 19, 2011 4:21 am

Your heart is thudding so loudly you fear that the oncoming assailants will overhear it. You keep your face to the floor and try to flatten yourself as low to the ground as much as possible in a vain effort to conceal yourself; you can taste dirt, but you daren't move your head away. There is some stumbling not too far from you, perhaps someone trying to get to their feet. A single, loud gunshot rattles your hearing before being met with the distinct rattling of an assault rifle, followed by the sickly, thudding sound of a boddy dropping to the ground. Your jaw begins to ache a little and you realise how tightly you've been clenching your teeth this past minute. The groans have quitened a little but they're still there.

For all the gunshots you've heard, the thick smell of blood, all the death you have seen, it is the sound of a deep, throaty laugh, mocking in tone, that sends your blood the coldest. You fear that you are shivering slightly, and so dearly wish that you could see what was going on. After the laugh you can vaguely make out the noise of a magazine being jammed into a rifle, and more footsteps. Slow, heavy, and more importantly, growing ever louder. They stop, and you hear a familiar voice. One of the militia, not one you could name or likely pick out of a crowd. "P-please... You don't have to-"
He's cut off by the loud crack of wood against bone. The noise comes again, and again, and again, sounding wetter each time. From what little you can still make out of your allies they are still alive but in no position to be doing anything. You can't shake this awful feeling that you're the only one in a fit condition to even lift a gun now. The taste of dirt is growing ever pronounced, but you think, hey, at least it's better than mole rat meat.

It's the last coherent thought you'll ever have, replaced by blinding pain mere seconds later as the owner of the heavy footsteps presses the trigger on his flamethrower. It doesn't take long before the majority of the area is ablaze, screams piercing through the night. You managed to make it to your knees before falling flat , unable to rise again but writhing all the way.

Your life ends in the wasteland.
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