The group of Diesel Jock’s sat around the campfire, smoking Hero J and drinking hooch. In plain view around them were arranged a plethora of weapons, injectables and other lifesaving gizmos. “Dude… I have a feeling El Dorado is coming for us… I’m kinda of scared…” said the serious and slightly frightened DJ. “Shut up you wimp” said the cocky Diesel Jock, “Look at our numbers! Look at our base! Look at all this hooch and loot! We’re riding high, and NO ONE can stop us!”. “Dude… I heard they took out War. And they didn’t even KILL her… they took her HOSTAGE…”, continued the scared DJ. “SHUT UP…” interrupted the slightly annoyed and pissed DJ, “That was just a bunch of weak ass Final Knights… they’re messing with the top dogs now… do y’all know how to spell out the end of El Dorado… P…C…H…”.
The three Rover brothers sat at the dinner table with their new Rover associates. They broke bread, laughed and bonded the way only a table full of Rovers could. Then it was time for business. Fish. Herb. Silver. And lots of it. 1000 cred worth. That was the deal. This ended in a handshake. This ended with a promise. The kind of handshake and promise only a Rover can make. The new Rover associates never would have guessed what the brothers were thinking. Dark, terrible thoughts of the new Rover associates showing up with the goods, and the brothers violently taking their lives, along with the loot. These Rover brothers and their crew were running out of “friends”, but plan to squeeze the rest of the El Dorado area dry before they moved on up North for some fresh victims.
“So”, he paused before listing the facts he had meticulously put together. “The general who claimed the title of one of the Horsemen, of War, was captured. Well then, they are likely to attempt a reconversion of the child, at least I would, and with two horsemen defeated on the field we can no longer underestimate this Alliance or those behind it. Prepare my tools for travel, we’ll likely need to fix whatever… damage has been done in the field. Get pen and paper, I have troop requisitions to dictate.”
The servant responded, waiting for the lull in conversation before daring to speak. “Yes torturer, how soon should we ready the caravans?”
He responded brusquely, “Immediately of course. Only a fool does not place the blade to the weakest flesh.”
The Retrograde coughed as he exited the rusted bulkhead. Blood seeped from a number of wounds, spilling out of the torn hazmat suit. He saluted weakly when he found the one person he was looking for. “General… the experiments shattered one of the containment cells and fashioned weapons out of the scraps. They pierced the suit, where should I report for a doctor to cure me?”
The General blinked, and then said incredulously, “Cure you? I don’t know what you mean? By all accounts, the cure has already begun, soon you’ll be part of what all the rest of us are soon to become. Take heart in that.” He paused, and motioned. Armed and armored figures stepped out from either side of them, various implements of death and torture dangling from their belts.
He smirked, and said loudly, “GUARDS, mask him and toss him back in, we have a new experimental specimen, let’s hope he survives the social orientation aspect. They have tended to be incredibly hostile to new introductions.” He continued as the now-screaming Retrograde had a mask riveted to his head, and was tossed back into the gas-filled room. “I do believe the time for a first impression draws near, they are all so eager to meet new faces. I do so hate keeping them, but they must be perfect…”
“Anyone know why the hell we’re carting these weeds to Whereverthefuck, Nowhere?” the Diesel Jock asked his cousin as they unloaded their cargo. “Three crates full of whatever’s left of the Devil’s Weed or whatever the fuck it’s called seems really fucking strange.”
Tyron looked about warily. “No idea, cuz,” he replies. “But let’s get the fuck out of here as soon as we’re done. There are zed all over the place here, and I hear one of ‘em is actually intelligent and can speak. Hurry up, Al.”
“No shit?” Al grunts as he sets the last one down. “Well, hopefully whoever’s picking this up has, like, a standard fuckton of Zed-B-Gone, or else it’s going to the zombies. There. We’re done. And I agree; let’s get the fuck out of here!”
“Everything prepared?” A stern-looking Pureblood said looking at a shaking Solestros holding a clipboard.
“Yes sir. The travel arrangements have been made. The town has been notified and agreed to terms as is, although we can never really rely on that.” He replied, sifting through his lines of notes.
“We have to make it through, or we’ve lost the tower. How’s the cargo?” The Pureblood shot back.
“Sedated and prepped for transportation.” The solestros ducked behind his clipboard again.
The Pureblood took a sip of his zinfandel bemused. “I hope they finally see reason.”
“And you can promise us safe passage through town with your squad?” Nathaniel looked down at a short, cloaked Laski.
“That’s not what I said, I said that they would take your cargo to its destination or die trying.” Dex replied.
Stunned, Nathaniel asked back, “How does that make you better than going through the post?”
Croc shot a bloodied grin, “Because you can be damn sure we will be taking a few of them with us if they do. Besides,” he takes a pause looking over at the soft glow coming from the drugged-out NoA, “something tells me you can’t ship him express.”
A group of soldiers stood atop of a large cliff looking down at the conquered watchtower. Small fires burned throughout the courtyard as Final Knights removed all remaining presence of the former faith that once held this fortress. Engineers started to rebuild the fortifications around the perimeter of the compound. The soldiers on the cliffs had already packed up supplies and were preparing to move out. A single soldier looked upon the Final Knight forces throwing items into a large bonfire in the courtyard of the captured fortress.
The leader of the group walks towards the soldier and says, “are you worried that we never set foot inside there ever again?” The soldier sat down wearily on a nearby rock. He replied, “it always pains me to watch Final Knights destroying holy ground”. He starts to tear up a bit as he continued, “this used to be a place of light and happiness, somewhere where family could feel safe and at home.” The leader sat down next to the soldier, and said, “home is never a definitive place, wherever your family is; that is home. These Final Knights believed they have taken everything from us, but in the end we will always have family and that is what is most important, family always endures.” The leader stood up, and extended a hand to the soldier as he helped him up from the rock.
The Final Knights began the task of adding a large mounted gun to the defenses of the recently captured stronghold. An eager Final Knight soldier set about adding bullets to the belt. He whistled as he did so, and said out loud, “I can't wait to see those family freaks try to take this place back. Keeping it will be as easy as it was to take this place.” One of the FK lieutenants walks up to her whistling underling. She said, “taking this place was the easy part, now we have to hold it.”
In the midst of the activity and almost on cue, several figures walk in the front gate holding a large box and set it down in front of them. One of the group walked up to the Lieutenant, and said, “I believe i can help with that situation”. He nods, and the others with him open the box to the lieutenant. The FK soldier, done loading the bullets, took a peek at the open box over his lieutenant’s shoulder, and whistled again, this time in surprise. “They will never know what hit them”, he said.