Of Chaos and War - Prologue

• Posted by Tae-Rai November 24, 2015 - 360 views

  Of Chaos and War

  Prologue

  Across the wastes, a caravan of settlers and merchants were making their slow way across the Commonwealth. A light rain fell, one that was surely ladened with radiation, but neither human nor brahims cared for it. They were a small group, maybe ten or twelve of them, and all were armed. The journey they were making had been well so far, but the dreary weather was making it difficult for their spirits to rise.

  "Shouldn’t be ‘oo far now,” grunted a grizzly man in the front, dressed in a militant’s hat and a long-coat. "I say we’re about two clicks from West Roxbury.”

  The settler travelling behind him clicked up her shotgun and kept it pointed straight ahead, eyes gazing over the wastes. "Travelling this far south was a bad idea,” she murmurs. "We haven’t seen a single raider yet and they’re meant to be pretty common round here.”

  "And you want to?” retorted the old merc’ from before, his old grey eyes ablaze. "Just be grateful we got to here without a fucking single incident.”
  
  The settler said nothing in return but huffed, leaving words unsaid between the hired gun and herself. When you hired a guy to protect you and who had no qualms about killing, it was best not to argue with them.

  With a sigh, the group continued on, passing over the hills and the plains, slowly coming forth to their destination. The lights of the settlement glowed warmly and provided a welcome sight, but there was also an air of uncertainty surrounding the group.

  The old mercenary turned to the woman travelling behind him, a woman of barely twenty with dark eyes and messy hair. "You feelin’ that? Somethin’ ain’t right.”

  The brahmins tossed their two heads, indicating their discomfort and vocalising loudly, as a deadly chill settled over them, as if a cold wind had suddenly blown over them from the Glowing Sea. Each settler tried their hardest to calm the cattle but no one could settle the beasts down. “Keep an eye out,” ordered the messy-hair woman, loading another round into her pistol. “Could be raiders.”

  With unrest and uncertainty in their minds, the group was halted in the darkness, guns raised and eyes scanning the hills. As the minutes ticked by, the cattle began to calm and each man and woman soon lowered their weapons. "Must’a just been a few mutts runnin’ by…” admitted the lead mercenary, before he turned back to the group. "Let’s keep on goin’.”

  As soon as they lowered their weapons, chaos broke out around them.  From either side of them, raiders descended upon the caravans, yelling and firing into the group of settlers, not caring who they hit. The old merc’ went down first, dropped like a heavy stone into water, blood pouring from a bullet wound in his neck. Those guards who remained drew up their weapons and fired back, throwing themselves behind the brahmin as cover.

  The raiders, clad in iron and leather, wearing the most mismatched clothes anyone could possibly dress themselves in, soon retreated, firing at the legs of those who were covered. A settler was shot in the chest, before another of the filthy raiders shoved a switchblade into her eye socket, making her gasp loudly in pain.

  And then, just like that, it was over. The band of raiders, though bloodied and injured, were victorious and began to pick at the remains of those in the caravans, like they were only simply animals for slaughter. Anyone who was still alive after the battle was soon shot point-blank, their bloodied brains smeared on the asphalt of the road.

  "Ha, got a good haul with this one…” a male raider cackled, picking up the shotgun a settler had been carrying.

  His female companion, the last one to live, grinned and placed the militia hat the old merc’ had been wearing upon her hair. “I think I’ll keep dis,” she replies, lighting up a ciggie and bringing it to her lips. "Yeah… Think I will.”
  
  After a brief moment of laughter from the raiders, they continue to scavenge the remains, but then one threw up his hand. "Movement ahead…”
  
  In the darkness ahead, something was standing there, poised and ready. It wasn’t making a noise but simply crouched. The group of raiders nodded to each other and flicked on the flashlights attached by duct tape to their weapons and crept forward. Something told them this wasn’t a good idea, but still, curiosity drove them onwards.

  A sound broke out. A heavy breathing of some kind. And then… A snarl. The raiders drew back and a terrified scream broke across the wastelands.
  
  "DEATHCLAW!”