The setting is Post WW3. Nuclear Winter has past after 200 years and the Human survivors are finding places to settle and start civilizations. Rare pockets of uninhabitable land still exist as do areas environmentally unaffected by the global catastrophe.
Plants and animals have survived and mutants have died off.
No countries exist anymore and the adventure starts in an unknown part of North America.

Three types of people exist,
Grounders (those who stay in and around shelters),
Nomads (those who wandered and scrounged the rich leavings of the before people),
Brigands (The guys who just steal and kill for what they need)

Please PQ me first if you would like to use a mythical creature for your character.
Also approach me if you have an idea for a quest or plot.
This is to preserve the integrity of the story, Thank you.

Pick one and get started.

DM restrictions
NO ARMIES…. yet
NO MUTANTS, hybrids, or other non-humans
NO WORLD ENDING EVENTS



Campaign maps (click for fullsize)



________



Thank you and enjoy

-precede notes with a dash. I'll start

Kael opened the heavy metal blast door and walked outside.
He surveyed his small colony. The garden, The well, the hatches of the 3 shelters and the beginnings of a house dominated by the watchtower all surrounded by the tall stone wall.
He went about his morning chores until Tab called from the tower.
“Nomads! approaching from the east!” “Got it!”
Kael called back, walked to the gate and peered out. It was a trader caravan, it would reach them by lunchtime. Ah well nothing for it. He unbolted the gate and resumed his picking of apples in the orchard.

-I'm a Brigand. My name in this is Trace.

A man was following the trader caravan. He was cloked in a old brown sheet that you could not see throught. Non of the trader's trusted him, and for good reasons too. He wore a red helment and armor. He had said he found them but no one believes him. They all say he killed the man who had it last to get. Trace looked at the last person on the caravan with his blood-shot eyes. He had not eaten in days. He was use to this but he needed somthing. “I give you some gold if you give me something to eat.” he said. “Here! just take it!” said the man. He throw's a bit of bread to him and get's in his makeshift wagon. Trace pick up the bread and eats it. Trace was a niec guy if you got to know him but he grew up only knowing how to steal for stuff, kill for stuff, or bargen for it. “So mean. Why?” he asked himself. Then he looked ahead. “So that where this Caravan is going…” trace said as he looked at the small colony.

-thanks for joining Rage!

Kael looked over his assembled group. Half the people here were his blood-relatives, the rest may as well have been. Eight families called the nameless collective home.
He held the single automatic weapon they owned. The Emixeen was their most prized possession and symbol of his leadership. Dale and Turrin had the ancient deer-rifles, the rest had knives, swords, crossbows, and a few muskets. It was always a good idea to be well armed when leaving the compound.

They walked casually out the gate to the wide open area they had cleared for visitors.
Gaer closed the gate after them. The Nomads had already begun pitching tents and laying out their wares. Down the road Kael could see other parties of Grounders from other shelters coming along to see what was to be had at market. The traders always came to his homestead because it was largest and closest to the Old Road. He smiled at that.
He examined the scene then nodded to the group, giving them leave to break into 3 man groups and shop.

-Brigand named Shintou (also mysteriously goes by the names “Desolate” and “Dark” from time to time) Also, British.

So here's the kicker. Every story needs a kicker right? Somethin' to start you off with. A conflict, a hero. The knowledge that good will always fight bad. Psh. Yeah okay. Cause lines are always that clear aren't they? “Good”, “Bad”… You show me one truly good person in the lot and I'll expose to you a demon in disguise.

Lines are never that clear. But they are occasionally, drawn in the dirt. Vague enough for ya? Want to throw out some more cliches while I'm at it? Bugger all…


A man stood in a run down sack of a city. Some say it was once Los Angeles, others say San Fransisco, or even New York. The ponces don't even realize the sodding wind chill doesn't match with an East Coast side joint. Then again nothing matches now a days. What was I sayin'? Oh yeah, a man.

He walks through the dump with his bloody trench coat made of cow hide strapped across him. The guy has the luxury of wearing a sodding trench coat so keep his hind quarters warm and he's dumb enough to walk out in this kinda lot.

A woman and her kip. They're here too. Looking for food I'd imagine. The man spots ‘em. Pulls a nice full loaf ’o' bread from the coat. Charity in hell, go figure. The lady walks on up with what one can only assume is her youngest and bows her head in thankfulness. The man smiles and with a good clean swing hit's our lass ‘cross the face with the hard loaf. She’s weak but still got the sense to protect the little kip. She falls on her. She knows how to protect her young. Fall on ‘em. Stupid Git.

The man yanks the young gal off and tell her to bow again. She does. What else would she do. The man now getting his rockies off a bit yanks down his leg skins and proceeds to put the bowin’ to good use. Soon after the man pulled out a gun. Where he got one in this place I'll never know. Put it to her head and said “You or your youngin'. One dies today.” The lady cries and cries. The little girl is out cold on the floor. Musta got knocked in the tussle I'd assume.

The lady thinks a mite. She'd never know. She'd never know she was betrayed. She'd just… never wake up.

You see the thought run across her head and it sickens you. So here I come in. With my own trench coat and my own gun. Put it to the sods head and make his thought a stain on the wall. The lady looks a might terrified. Assuming I'd be after her next. Nah, I got enough. The guy was a prick but he had funds. All I needed. Swooped on his clothes, his hand made wallet, and his gun. Walked to the lady who had just picked up the loaf of bread.

“Thank you sir, oh my God thank you…” She cries her tears knowing full well what she prepared to do. I yank the loaf from her hand and wrap it in my new acquisitions. “What you thought this was a free service?”

I walk past the sniveling git and pick up her kip. Toss her over my shoulder and walk out. “Now please not my…”

“Save it love, I just got me some tea time and I don't know how to properly dress my food. Your girl here. She's young but she can cook. Maybe once I get my use from her I'll bring her back.” The lady ran towards me until I turned and swung the girl around my neck pulling out both pistols. “Now then, you might want to turn face before you lose it love.”

The woman, no older than me saw force was no answer so she went to her knees and unzipped my leggings. What was a man to do? I couldn't very well just say “no”. So I kicked the stupid git in the face and walked away. Seems harsh but the truth is she got no respect for herself. And until she gets some she's nothing. And who really cares if you hurt nothing.

So tell me. Through the good, the bad, and the down right disturbing. Am I the line? Or am I just a sodding U-Turn waiting for my light?

-brigand of course

My name is Carl Hellinou it used to be a highly respected name but… as the years gone by after the war it seems to have been polluted… maybe it's because of the way my great great grandfather failed miserably at bringing the city of quincy to safety…. the few who survived did not last very long for they were had mutated.


Ever since then my brothers and sisters and i have been trained…. trained to do whatever it takes to survive… i Carl Hellinou have changed rapidly…. my father had gotten my mother pregnant without knowing that she was one of the few remaining vampires…. when i was born…. he said it was the happiest day of his life…. for i was the first born of his children to come… as i grew up my father would go out and find children… and bring them home simply tell mother that he had found them….
his eyes would always be water filled when he brought one home… all the children had some resemblane to my father… but he said they were not his…. he would leave every night and secretly visit his other children in wich he had with over 24 women… my mother would take me out ounce a month at these times to secretly feed on one of these women when he was not around… my brothers and sisters was usually asleep in the subway tunnel in which we lived before we left home… mother had shown me how to control my anger and lust for blood… at the age of 17 my brothers and sisters all knew what my mother and i was and they accepted us… one of them, an outcast of the children, whom dispised us told my father he laughed and looked at me…then his smile faded he walked towards me and took his fingure and ran it down the side of my mouth…
“ is this blood” he had asked i denied but my mother had decided that he was tired of hiding what we really were…. and she told him… in the middle when she said we was vampire he grabbed my mother and broke her neck she did not resist in any way…. she loved him way too much… before he broke her neck i saw tears falling from her face i couldn't be sure what they represented but i assume that they was tears of remorse….
he drops her slowly and starts to cry. then he stares at me and moves to capture me i couldn't hold my anger anymore my mother was dead and he had taken her…. it was his fault and he would soon pay for it as he made for me my eye's turned red and i punched him strait in the face flinging him against the wall of the tunnel and then there was a shot…. * i glance to my left and one of had the handgun and was aiming towards our father… i let him up and he stood up and started to leave… my sister put the gun down and shrank and cried… the outcast ran with my father and then they both turned and glared at me and i pointed for them to go…

Now 4 years later i am still taking care of my family 1girl and and 1 boy… both of them were 16 years of age and learning quickly i had tought them everything i know, with the excetion of how to drink blood and that sort of thing, and we was living steadily xu was having trouble with stalking other's she was far too gentle for this kind of thing… and well… chung he left xu and i ages ago…. my other brothers and sisters was killed during a raid 2 years back… lately i have been taking xu with me everywhere i will not allow her to get hurt…. during raids i do she stays look out…
lately i have been called dead carl for the fact that after a raid i drink their blood….. now as we leave our home we set out for a new life…

-trace is a sensitive person but knows how to kill to survive.

Trace was snacking on something from one of the stands wain one of them came up to him with a gun. “get!” he said as he fired. The shot hit his armor as he fled. “Damn. Why are people so mean.” trace said. Then he saw the orchard. He smiled happily and said “no one will notices a few missing!” Trace climbed the fence and then climbed a tree. “these look good.” he said. He picked one and ate it. “So good!” he said as he picked another one.

- i finished the reston last post -

Kael felt something was amiss right before the gunshot went off.
His people were accountable for burying if somebody died. He saw the brown robed beggar running away. Then the incredible happenned he got shot, and didn't die. the Kael shot an accusing look at the vendor. He walked over to rebuke the shocked looking man.
“Idiot! If you cant Fire-shoot straight then use a crossbow! I don't want nobody innocent dyin from your bad aim!” he snatched the weapon away. He nodded to one of his men. He handed the vendor one of their better bows and a full quiver in exchange. It was his right to seize a weapon but it was wrong to leave somebody defenseless.

Kael stalked off to find the beggar before he tried to steal from somebody else.
He finally spotted him climbing the low part of the wall by the orchard.
Eh.. Tab will deal with it.

Inside the orchard the man known as Trace was surrounded by armed men and escorted to a holding pen.

as me and xu are heading to a large formal city we here gunfire and xu pull's out top of the line laser guns stolen from an old military compound after hours of searching… i pull out my special arsenal of lollypop's a red and blue one……

Dead Carl: comon xu be careful and out of sight

xu: alright brother…

as we enter the city we notice a man being dragged away and signal for xu to follow me as we apper we beat the people holding the gun down and pulls out a yellow and white lollypop spit's on it and throws them on all of them paralyzing them completely with the exception of their head we grab the man and run off with him shooting a we run

“MUSH-MUSH!” it was old man Marcus, shrieking like a five-year-old. “DON'T GO OUT THERE!”
“And yet,” I said, swinging my dreadlock-laden head around my shoulder like a scarf to turn back to the blast door, “I'm somehow, magically out here. Oh, and by the way, my name isn't ‘Mush-Mush. It’s Randall.'”
Marcus pulled out a pistol, but he was too senile to point it in my direction–he held it pointed to his own heart. “THIS…THIS SOCIETY MUST HAVE RULES, AND THE, THE, THE, THE, THE, THE RULES OF THIS HERE NATION STATE THAT YOU CAN'T LEAVE! COME BACK OR I'LL EXECUTE YOU!”
“I've only been at your homestead for three hours.” I emphasized this with a stomp of my foot, frostbitten and bare, in the grayish two-foot snow. I quickly regretted this for its childish nature and for how my big toe, now with the texture of a frozen saltine, almost chipped off.
“DIE!” he died instantly as the inside of the corridor was painted a slowly darkening red.
I had no time to see it darken, as screams and gunshots quickly came out from the broken-roof warehouse. I unstrapped the Neo-Maxim gatling gun from my back, and it was like ice cream in the Sahara for my vertebrae.
As the black-cloud sky grew blacker and cloudier in the implied, unseen sunset, I set up the tripod for the gun and readied myself.

-Trace had a mind like a child. Thought he has killed, he see the world like a kid would, also he is about 15.

“I was just hungry. Why must you be mean.” said Trace to the guard. The man did not answer. “if you won't answer me, then I'm going to sleep.” he said as he took off the makeshift cloak. He folded it in to the size of a small pillow and laid down. “I'm so full…” trace said as he fell asleep.

-can I be a renegade? Not a brigand, but someone who just runs around and tries to fight the tyranny of the Grounder leaders? Also, my name is Jayce. Not the hedgehog from my RP, just someone with the same name. Also, this sounds like what I've heard of a game called Fallout.-

The prison was quiet. I had snuck in easily. I dropped down behind the guard and snapped his neck. My assassin trade was payin off. The kid in the red armor was asleep. I unlocked the door. Then I left before he woke up. When he did, I watched him from a distance. He was surprised, but escaped all the same.

-No Blood, you would be a Brigand. It's the class of people that has no permanent home and hasn't been accepted into a Nomad group. Plus there's really no Leaders and laws to fight and break. The Grounders are more like large family units than organized communities. They typically have a head of the family that keeps order and protects the home. There is no tyranny to fight as there is no uniting government to oppose. If you attack or fight the Grounders you're just a loner attacking somebody's home, livelihood, and family. And this would be years after something like Fallout when the world has finally recovered. Also it wasn't so much a prison that Trace was held in overnight as a wood shack with a bar across the door.-

Kael finally permitted himself to cry. When they had found Ginnie dead by the holding pen that morning, he had ordered the Nomads away at gunpoint. They had tried to find the culprits but to no avail. The tracks in the dirt has disappeared at the edge of the visitors clearing. No justice for Ginnie. His family was crying Ginnie was his youngest brother. The boy was on the edge of becoming a man and had demanded to help guard the thief until they could decide what to do with him. Kael had reluctantly agreed, wanting to let the boy feel he was valued. Now he was dead. Not one of the five families that called the colony home held back a tear. They lowered him into the ground, and filled dirt and rocks upon him to ensure his safe rest. Kael spoke the eulogy.

-K then I'll be a brigand. I prefer not to steal, but will kill to get what I want. As well as to help others like me. I have sharpened senses, because that's what assassins are trained to have.-

I watched the funeral. It was strange. My Father had told me Grounders had absolutely no feelings, no remorse, no pity, even for one of their own. Yet the man giving the eulogy was crying. Crying for his lost comrade. My sharpened senses picked upon the eulogy. No wonder, the man I had killed was this man's brother. I knew what he wanted, deep down, even if he didn't tell others. He wanted to find and kill me for what I had done. But I had done it so perfectly. They would never find out who did it. It would be a miracle if they did.

Perhaps you are wondering, “Why does this man hate Grounders so much?” Grounders took everything from me. My family, my friends, my life. We used to be nomads. We were basically one big happy family. My Father told me how Grounders were untrusting, didn't care for anyone other than themselves. But I've been so consumed by hate for years I forgot what else he said. Seeing this funeral, it reminded me. “Jayce, my son,” He had said. “There are grounders that are untrusting. But you mustn't think they are all like that!” He smiled at me. “Your beutiful mother used to be a grounder. Then we met and fell in love. There are some Grounders who care only for themselves, but for the most part, they will accept and cherish us and our tails of what it is like to live freely upon the open road.” That was the last speech he ever gave to me. We soon came to a Grounder city. We asked for lodging for the night. They were nice enough to comply, or so we thought. Me and my Father had blue hair, were born that way. In the night, the Grounder cefense force broke in the door to the lodgings we were staying in. They shot my Mother first. Then they looked at me and my father. “You damned Mutants!” The leader said. He shot my Father in the leg. My father turned and looked at me. “P-Please, my s-son, run a-away. Y-you must, l-live!” They shot all of the others right in front of me. I had started to cry. Then, I ran. I ran as fast and as hard as I could. I never heard the shot that killed my father. But I did see them light the shack on fire. I ran. Eventually, outside the city, I came to this old man's shack. I was full of rage and sadness. Then, a knife showed up at my neck. I should have died that night, but the look I gave the man was one of fury and determination. He smiled, much the same way my father had. “You have the same eyes I once had. I will take you in, teach you to become an assassin.” I never learned the man's name, so I just called him Sensei. I learned much from him. He became like a grandfather to me. I eventually mastered the art of the silent kill and covering up my tracks. As well as lying convincingly.

I turned away from the funeral and walked off. I was crying. It was the first time I had really cried in all these years. The first time since the day my Father died.

-No Blood… This is not you.

Trace kelp running. He was sure they where after him. That man was the one who let him out. He was the one who killed that boy. Trace watch in horror as the man slashed at the boy guarding the place. The one guard trade with the boy about at sunset. Trace had woken by that time and the two became friends like that. They talked for awhile before that man showed up. He attacked the boy without any remorse. Trace, being about 15, was not strong enough to get out and stop him. The Man opened the door and said “Your turn.” Trace got his dagger out and attacked. The man dodged him and disappeared. “no….Noooooo!!!” yelled Trace. This alerted the other people. Trace got scared and ran. He ran cause no one would give him a chance to tell what he saw. Trace then stopped. That man was in front of him. “Why? WHY!” yelled Trace. “Cause he was there.” said the man coldly. Trace then turned and ran back. “I got to lose him!” he thought. He got to the outskirts of the woods when the man caught up. “You! I MAKE YOU PAY FOR WHAT YOU DID!!!” yelled Trace as he lunged at that man with the dagger he had.
The colony heard Trace. The watch guard saw them fighting and announce where they where.

-As confirmed by Rage, Trace is fighting some random Brigand that was stalking around.-

Kael was standing outside looking over the new diggings. He had ordered the walls rebuilt. They had first been built by his great-great-grandfather to keep out the terrible storms, predators, and Brigands. Times had calmed, and the walls had fallen to dis-repair. They now did little more than keep the coyotes from the livestock.
Clearly they needed to keep out men again. And so he and his people had begun cutting back the trees and trenching a foundation for a new wall further out.

Then he heard it. A scream from the woods. From the watchtower Turrin hit the alarm bell and pulled his rifle to his shoulder and fired three times. Kael vaulted to the gate. Nurgo and Gaer met him there. They threw it open and charged into the darkened woods. HARD_TACK! we forgot the lanterns! Kael thought briefly. A full moon cleared the clouds and suddenly illuminated the night. Turrin it seemed never wasted a bullet.
A Brigands lay dead in the dirt. Another in red armor and a brown robe was cowering nearby. The same one who killed Ginnie.
“Take him to the dog house, We'll let him explain himself in the morning.”

The dog house of course was the hole in the ground where they kept the pitbulls. If he didn't try to escape again he'd be fine. If he did try Kael doubted they'd find much left of him in the morning.

Trace just sat there in that pit. His belly growed. He pulled out the apple that Ginnie gave him. As he ate it, he weaped. “Why must people be so mean. Why must the nice die.” he asked himself. He finished the apple and sat it up top. the pitbulls grabbed it and tared it to pieces. Trace then covered himself with his robe and want to sleep.

-hey rage conversation time-

Kael had spent a restless night. Many had simply wanted let the dogs have the boy last night, or to snap his neck like he'd done to Ginnie.. He had refused them though he agreed with them. He wanted the entire group to have a say. That time came. Little Vidje went in and moved the dogs around to let the prisoner out. He's not much older than Ginnie was Kael shook the thought from his mind and refused to let a scowl cross his face. Everybody but the little ones were present.

Kael and Gaer stepped forward and addressed the boy.

“You speak Merican?, what's your name?”

-I'd join but there's too much to read in order to understand who's where and what they are doing. could someone take a little of their time and tell me who's doing what? I'd really aprechiate it ^^; -

I really need to quit helping kids. The guy I saved was around my age, but he had been caught again. I thought, maybe if I turned myself in, he would get off the hook. But then I thought, If I do that, I'll never avenge my family and friends. Then I had a brilliant idea. I wrote a letter. Then I sent it in to where the man was holding the kid. The man read the letter. I don't know if he believed it, I left after I threw it in. The letter read:

Dear Sir,
I am sorry about the loss of your brother. You may be wondering how I knew the kid who died yesturday was your brother. I am the one who killed him. I was also at his funeral. For years I had been mistaken into thinking all Grounders were heartless and cruel, even to their own kin. Watching you at the funeral, I realized how mistaken I was. I'm sorry. I would turn myself in, if I hadn't other things to do. I must avenge my family. Goodbye. And set this kid free, he's completely innocent.
-Jayce the Assassin

I was out of town within minutes of throwing the letter in there. Within hours, I was halfway to the former city of New York, where my whole family was slain.

- … whatever -

as xu and i observe this kid they call trace… we notice that he seems to be alone and without hope for the world he lives in… as he sit's there surround by the local grounders he seemed to think that he was going to be killed for that man from the other nights murder…

Dead CarL: xu follow me…

Xu: alright

* we jump into the crowd next to trace . xu on one side. i on the other. *

Xu: stop!

Dead Carl: this boy is not the one who has done this crime… it was a man they call jayce who has murdered the one you call ginnie…

Xu: attack this boy and my brother will have his supply of blood for a year…

Dead Carl: xu… no need to make threats… not yet… i beleive this man knows that this boy is innocent…

—The story so far as requested
Kael (my character) runs a small colony of people who survived in shelters. Rage's character Trace was a wandering vagrant who tried to steal some food from Kael's people. They held him prisoner for a while but BloodTH's character Jayce freed him killing Kael's brother in the process.
Kael's people have now re-caught Trace and TokyoPinp's character's Xu and Carl have stepped in on his behalf. The other characters are currently developing their own storylines. Read the first post for starting information and feel free to joinin the existing storyline or start your own.

Characters
tokyopimp5764: Xu and Dead Carl (brothers) - Brigands
BloodTh: Jayce the assassin - Brigand
Rage Nasaka: Trace - Brigand
Imshard: Kael - Grounder
IamDave: Randell - Nomad
ShinGen: Shintou (aka Desolate, dark) - Brigand
—

Kael despised Brigands. Brigands had killed his father years before. A Brigand had killed Ginnie just two days ago. Now two Brigands were trying to deny him justice for Ginnie. And they had very nice rifles. The Grounders leveled their weapons at the interlopers. Kael held up his hand to bid them wait. The boy in the armor and rags had identified himself as Trace. He was clearly an invalid. He had sobbingly claimed he had not killed the “nice one Ginnie” and begged the “mean people” not to kill him. Kael was actually inclined to believe him. Now these two bastards had stepped in. Xu and Carl were the names they had written on their possessions.
This trial is getting out of hand Kael thought to himself. There was a dead silence for a few moments. Then a letter wrapped around a rock flew in and landed right in the middle of the clearing. Gaer picked it up and read it aloud.
Kael considered this a Moment, everybody seemed uncertain now. He decided what to do.

“Trace you are free to go. For the trouble we put you through I consider us even for the apples you took.” He turned to the suddenly wary looking brigands. “get out before I have you killed for entering here without permission.”

“thank you.” said Trace. He then put some gold on the ground and ran off to the woods. Maybe they are nice people he thought. He sat at the edge of the woods looking back. “I will help them.” Trace said to himself.

Damn. I had been ambushed. I was in the hands of the enemy now. The grounders took me to their leader. “Ah,” he said, “So the mutant returns. I had a feeling you would one day. Especially after we burned your father alive 4 years ago!” Bastard. First thing I thought. First thing I said was “You mother FUCKER! Why couldn't you leave a simple family and other nomads alone? You killed a whole group of nomads just because of two people you only SUSPECTED of being mutants! All because we had blue hair! I'm as human as you are, you SON OF A BITCH!” I continued to bitch him out for a while. Then he held up his hand. “Lesve us, guards. One stay to watch him though.” We watched the guards leave. “Now, mutant, I will let you live on one condition. Serve me. Help me conquer this world! I'm getting too old to just dit back anymore.” It was true. The man was in his 30's. Time had not been kind. Becuase all technology had been lost centuries ago, the expected life-span was once again shortened. Be it disease, brigands, or assassins like myself, people were dying in their 30's and 40's. However, I was determined to end this man's life with my own hands. “I will NEVER serve you, ya dellusional, father-fucking, Krieg sucking son of a bitch!” “Ohh, temper, temper, Mutant. That's something you shouldn't lose your head over! Ohohohohoho! To the guillotine with him!”

-note: Krieg is an evolve Donkey.

Trace just went into the woods. He needed to get something to eat. He came across an adult bear. It roared at him and attacked. Trace got his dagger out and with one quick move, killed the bear on the spot. Despite his age and size, he was skilled. If people would accept him, he could become a great hunter. He then clibed a tree and ate a pinecone. Afterwareds he draged the bear toward that small colony. Trace holped that this would help them.

Kael watched him approach. Strong little bugger He looked down at his hand, and the gold bits it held. Each one was good for at least three loops of silver. They could buy fresh gunpowder and lead with this even finished bullets to last them a year. Guiltily Kael wondered where the vagrant boy had gotten the gold. And why he was bringing them a couple hundred pounds of fresh meat, claws and bone. Maybe he was just a huntsman looking for a home. Or maybe he was a vicious killer, wandering from place to place, murdering as he went. Either way, a trade was a trade.
He went down to the gate where Dale was on watch. Kael made a stop by the storehouse on the way.

When Trace finally heaved his load the last step, and slumped down to rest he was greeted by Kael. He was holding a parcel of woolen clothes, a bucket of cold water, and a basket of food. Dale stood next to him a crossbow cocked and ready, but also with a package of hides that had been cut into a tent.
“We don't trust you Trace, but we won't turn away an honest effort”
and with that the Grounders made traded their goods for the bear, and allowed Trace to set the tent at the edge of the clearing outside their settlement. In doing so the little collective went from just five families working to survive, into a town of refuge.

-I'm adding Cojo, a brutal Brigand to this list.

Trace was happy. He laid in his tent and drank some water. He had not seen kindness like this in along time. No one but Dr. Cain was this nice to him. Dr. Cain was a hermit that was a genus. He took Trace and taught him how to fight, find food, and was the one who gave him his armor. *Flashback* What's that? a young Trace asked. That is Bio-armor. My greatest creation! Said Dr Cain. Who's it for? asked Trace. Hohoho… For you, my boy. said Cain. Me? Why me? said Trace surprisingly. To keep you safe. hehe. Now. try it on. Answered Cain. Trace then touched the armor. It moved up his arm and covered his body. Whaaaaa! shrieked Trace. Don't be afraid. It's just becoming one with you. You will be faster, stronger, and the best fighter around here. said Cain. The armor finished and trace went to sleep. As Trace slept, A man came to the door. Old Man! Give me that armor! yelled the man. You will never have it Cojo. Never. said Dr. Cain as Cojo broke the door open. This woke up Trace. He walked into the room they where in. So The boy has it! I'll kill him and take it from him. yelled Cojo. You will do no such thing! said Dr. Cain as he got in front of Trace. The next thing Trace saw was Dr Cain's head coming off his shoulders. Noooooooooooooo! Dr. Cain!!! yelled Trace. His armor responded to his yell and formed a dagger. Cojo yelled to his friends to raid the house. As thay got in there, Trace attacked. He slaughtered them. Cojo, watching this, then ran. Days after that trace buried his surrogate father and then left. *Flashback ended* Trace then remembered Cojo. “I will make him pay one day.” He said. Far away from the colony, walked Cojo. The Caravan that went to the colony was slaughtered. Cojo was eating the flesh of some person. Hehehehehehe… I will get that armor. I will. He said as he ate.

I approached the town I had left. Blood completely covered my body and clothes. I had done it. The entire comunnity was dead. Nothing left to do but become a nomad again. But first, I had to answer for what I did. I had come back here with only one thing in mind: Retribution. I walked up to the man called Kael. I introduced myself as Jayce the assassin. I was immediately arrested and thrown into a holding pen. I didn't really care if I died or not. If I died, it would probably make Kael happy, knowing he avenged his brother. Damn, 15 and I still didn't have a girlfriend. Ah well. I guess my family's legacy would end here.

-hehehe cannibals nice touch. That was a good post dude-

Kael stood from his work and stretched. The wall was done. It had taken them may weeks but there it was. They had delved further into the forest than they needed to. It gave them room to expand. Twice a man's height and thick enough to walk it from the top.
The second house was going up too. In fact he place was taking off. For the last 3 years the summer sun had stretched out to the spring and fall. They could stay outside all year now, and the winters no longer dipped below -10. And so they had decided to emerge completely from the shelters and live on the surface. A new watchtower was going up, and fields for growing trade crops were being cleared. They had even helped Trace build a cabin for himself and granted him a small plot of ground around it. Others were beginning to join him and flush the population count higher.

The other Grounders were doing the same, and the Nomad visits were becoming more frequent. So frequent that they had come to refer to it the place as Kael's town.

But then there was the issue of Jayce. He had come back to face his punishment and stand for his crimes. It had been a year to the day since Ginnie had died. He had come filthy and bedraggled and presented himself for retribution. Kael didn't know what to do with the kid. Killing wasn't something to be tolerated. Kael judgment had been this: “We are short a man because you killed Ginnie. You took something without offering something in exchange. In payment we take not your life but its efforts”
In doing so they had put him to work building and hunting with the rest of the men.