Mr. Crusty's Collection
Seeing as quite a few people are doing the Tales Gallery sort of thing, I thought I'd try it out myself.
Imagine yourself walking into a library, filled with glorious tomes. Each one decorated with elaborate and eloquent covers. The building itself, mimics the eloquence of the books, or rather, the books mimic the eloquence of the building.
You take a book, aptly titled "The Greatest Story Ever Written", and you sit yourself down on a large wooden chair. You think to yourself though, that throne would be a more fitting description, with complex patterns and ornaments lacing every it's surface.
As you finally open the book, expecting to be thrust into a world and tale of wonder, you find that the first page is empty. You then turn to the second page and also find it blank. You turn to the third, the fourth, the fifth and continue on in this manner until you realise that the book is empty.
Seeing your distress, the elderly librarian walks over to you and asks you "is something wrong?"
You reply, "I think this book is empty, are all the other books here empty, too?"
The old man smiles. "Come with me," he says, "I have something to show you."
He leads you out of the way, to a small, cramped corner, drawing a stark contrast to the rest of the library. He points at a crusty collection of old, worn and tattered books. The shelves are old and plain. The area is not well lit, nor are the books as thick and vibrant as the ones you had looked at earlier.
You raise an eyebrow questioningly.
He looks back at you, smiling once more.
"It may not be the 'Greatest Story Ever Written', but these tales are sure to pique your interest. So feel free to read one, or two, or more. As many as you wish."
After Action Reports:
Honest Hearts, A Fallout: New Vegas AAR
"grroo"
Goris was hungry again. Veritas Corr looked over at her "little" friend. "Damn thing doesn't know when to stop eating" she said, shaking her head.
She was rightly irritated. Goris may have been a faithful companion and a loyal pet, but he was eating up their supplies faster than she would've liked. She thought for a moment on what he would do without her. But after taking a quick glance at Goris, she didn't want to dwell on the issue any longer.
Goris, you see, was a Deathclaw. A baby Deathclaw, but a Deathclaw nonetheless.
His parents had been killed or they had abandoned him. Veritas could empathise, her own parents had abandoned her as a baby, leaving her with the Followers and her weird name to go to join the Mormons, whatever that meant.
In either case, she unwittingly rescued the newborn during a scavenging expedition almost a year ago. Even since then, he had followed her day and night. At first she tried to lose him and even contemplated killing him, but eventually she gave up, accepting that Goris probably saw her as a mother figure.
She ripped open a box of cram and left most of it on the ground, Goris came over and devoured all of it with glee. She smiled, Goris was adorable in his own little way.
She stood up. "Well, time to get going, Goris. Every step forward is a step towards New Vegas."
It seemed like such a good idea at the time. Work hard to get money, travel to New Vegas, make it big at the casinos and retire into a life of luxury.
She knew it was half baked, but unlike many others, her dreams of making it big in the casinos was a backup plan. Even if she blew it, there was a good chance she would be able to find work with the Followers in New Vegas. The Followers always seemed to be short handed and appreciated her help in the Boneyard, why would it be any different in the Mojave?
She had many talents, ranging from her scientific and computer skills, to her social skills and she always had a knack with energy based weaponry. There would be at least something that the Followers would need her for.
It may not be a glamorous lifestyle, filled with riches and fancy parties, but the way she saw it, she could do honest work for honest pay and live a happy life in a city untouched by the Great War.
What could possibly go wrong?
Click here to read more.
Tale of the Week: Winners
TotW 71a - Lament in the Winter Rain
There was to be more marching today. They had to traverse the now wet and muddy fields of Ostermark in order to meet an invading force of Greenskins that had amassed near the border. He still shook his head at the thought, he hardly believed it, neither did his men and none of them enjoyed having to wade through this backwater to come to the aid of idiot farmers. Nonetheless, it had to be done.
As his men marched forward, Theodoric looked at them with doubt. He wondered whether he would be able to lead them to victory. He knew that the lives of all these men would be in his hands and his leadership. Theodoric only hoped that everything would turn out okay. And then there was the rain. How Theordoric hated the rain.
His train of thought was interrupted by the sight of smoke on the horizon. It came from the nearby village of Elbing. He summoned Gunter, his most trusted scout and loyal friend.
"Send out scouts and riders to investigate," he commanded, "and warn them to be careful, it may be an ambush."
"Right away, sir."
As the small group of scouts rode away into the distance, Theodoric ordered everybody else to continue forward.
After hours of sludging through the mud, Theodoric saw that they were coming back. Gunter came to deliver the his findings personally.
"The town's empty sir."
"Was it the greenskins?"
"Don't know sir, probably, but if you don't mind me saying sir, we should take a rest in the village."
"Are you serious? It's probably a greenskin trap, besides, why rest now? We are making great tiaachoooo!"
Theordoric sneezed the contents of his nose onto Gunter's now sticky face.
"A simple cold, sir? The great and mighty Theodoric felled, by a cold." He paused to wipe his face, "However, that's the point. If we continue to march in the rain, many more men will get sick and become weak."
Theodoric looked at Gunter. "So, you're saying that our options are," he began, "to walk right into what is probably a greenskin ambush or to continue and lose half my men due to sickness?"
Gunter looked back at Theordoric sympathically, "Yes. That's exactly what I'm saying."
Theodoric groaned. He knew that marching at such a fast pace would be necessary to save many of the outlying towns and villages of Ostermark, but he didn't think that the consequences of doing so, would be this bad.
He walked back to the main force and found the standard bearing cart. He was going to address the men.
The columns of men stopped simultaneously, waiting to hear what their leader had to say to them. Theodoric looked forward, into the crowd of his soldiers. He puffed out his chest, stood tall and proudly, then...
Silence. The men looked around, wondering if he was going to say anything at all. Theodoric opened his mouth, and just loud enough for his men to hear, muttered:
"Damn rain."
TotW 72b - I wish I had a horse
Thomas knew that the fight would be tomorrow. Their army had been sieging Vienna for almost six months now. The city's supplies were surely depleted by now. We made sure of that.
He also knew that the constant rain had made their cannons useless. With the weather finally clearing up, it was apparent to him that the besieged people of Vienna would have to strike now, lest their walls crumble under the might of cannon fire and well trained men.
When he finally rested his head onto the damp rag that was his pillow, he found that the excitement of rushing into battle the next day made it extremely difficult for him to actually get any sleep. But after two, or perhaps three long hours, he was able to close his eyes, without them opening until the morning.
...
Thomas awoke. The marching bands and flagbearers were already moving into position. The soldiers would soon be summoned too.
Off in the distance, Thomas could see a large blob leaving from the city gates. It was their garrison. Vienna was to rally now, while there was still a chance to break the invaders. Else their city would be forever under siege.
Thomas was smiling, his brigade had been chosen as among the first infantry troops to charge the enemy column. He felt confident, that alongside the cavalry, they would break through and win the day.
...
BOOM!
The noise! Everywhere!
Men screaming!
Dying!
Cannons Exploding!
Drums!
Thomas was overwhelmed.
Battle had been engaged and he was at the front. He could see the enemy. A horn was blown. The sound pierced through all of the others. His officers started yelling and he knew that this was it.
Charge!
The cavalry took off, Thomas never saw anything so beautiful, but he had no time to waste. He and the other infantrymen were running, desperate to keep up with the horsemen.
As Thomas ran closer and closer to the melee, he cleansed his mind, thinking only of the battle.
Suddenly, however, one of the riders lost control of his horse. The stallion reared up, on it's hind legs, increasing the size of it's presence twofold. As the rider struggled to regain control of his steed, he let forth a furious cry of anguish.
The Vienesse stepped back, as if they heard the roar of a lion.
Truly, it was as if they had unleashed such a beast onto the battlefield.
Thomas knew that this was his chance, he rushed forward, into glory.
But, his foot slid across the ground!
Curses! The mud!
It was all he thought as the forward momentum he had, propelled him into the air.
Indeed, as soon as the thought came, he was struck by a bullet, piercing him in the chest. As he landed, dying, on the wet mud, he cocked his head over to one side, and looking at the rider and his horse, majestic as they were, he said to himself, "I wish I had a horse."
Tale of the Week: Losers
TotW 74b - Fighting Blind
I am proud to have my position. A commander of Cappadocian Cavalry.
Our Roman allies call us "Cataphracts". I guess the Romans do not have the intelligence to tell the difference. We take no pride in being compared to the fools of Seleukos or Parthia.
I guess they cannot be blamed, our steeds were weighed down by all the armour, it even covered their faces and eyes. Must be close enough to them.
Today, we fight a vital battle against the warmonger Mithridates.
Our leader, Ariobarzanes, just wants peace for our land and our people. To let us live our own lives without fear of war. Is that really so incomphresenible to the Pontic butchers?
In any case, the battle lines have been drawn, and we will yet draw blood by nightfall. I can only hope our Roman allies do their part.
...............
We are told of the Roman strategy. Using one of their famed "legions", they will invite battle from the Pontic army and we are to spring a trap, launching an assualt on both sides of the Pontic army with our heavy cavalry. I ask whether such a plan would work, citing many flaws, they laugh at me, dismissing my opinion.
"We have taken care of their scouts. When they reach the battlefield, they will be fighting blind. When you fight blind, things go horribly wrong." He said smugly.
...............
To my surprise, it goes exactly as the Romans say.
I can seen the Pontos off in the distance, numbering in the thousands. Ever willing to follow by their king's example. Straightforward, without any real thought.
Soon, the Roman infantry will pin them down, and our cavalry forces shall strike.
...............
A horn blows, that's the signal. I gallop ahead of the men and towards the battle. It has already been engaged. All that's left is to complete the trap.
Victory is assured.
...............
My men and I gallop and charge ever forward. The Pontos are taken off guard, some even try to flee... what cowards, I shall enjoy ridding the earth of such scum.
As I ride towards them however, my steed comes to an abrupt halt. It rears back on it's hind legs, almost throwing me off.
My men look at me in bewilderment, I don't think they know what's going on either. Suddenly, my steed once again takes off. But this time, towards the Roman battle line. The horses of my men do the same, all of us confounded and confused.
Our horses pick up speed, signaling the end. I can see the petrified faces of the Roman soldiers. Gods! We are about to collide. We're all dead men!
I look around, searching for anything that may explain why our horses are leading us to our doom. As I do, the words of the Romans rush back to me.
“When you fight blind, things go horribly wrong.”
Turning my attention to the terrified Roman infantry line, I couldn't help but smirk.
Oh, the irony.
TotW 92a - Seeing is believing
This desert is cursed. Yet I am given no choice, I cannot flee. I am Roman.
Tomorrow, we engage battle with Parthian barbarians. Many of us will die. My soldiers, friends and brothers. The Parthians. They will suffer as we will too. I sit here at camp, knowing my fate, knowing our fate. I pull out of my pocket, an envelope from my wife. There is a letter inside, simply marked "A gift for the time we spent together. Never trust what you see." The envelope also contains a small piece of rotting fish. I take a bite from it, but spit most of it out. It tastes terrible. At least she tried, she knows I love fish.
I lie down, my eyes slowly close, resigned to the doom that is sure to come tomorrow.
..........................................................
My eyes slowly open, I am still tired, but it is first light and I must prepare for the battle.
"Cornutus, get over here!" calls one of the officers. I do not recognise him, though I should. He has a distinctively large forehead.
"I'm coming, Fronto!" I shout back and immediately do a double take. He looks at me, on the verge of fury. I muster all the willpower I can and look back at him, meeting his stare with one of my own. As I focus on the details of his face, I see that he didn't have a large forehead at all. It must be fatigue playing with my mind.
"Sorry, " I say to him. He accepts the apology, we are soldiers after all.
As I walk with him, over the lush terrain of the forest, into the shadow of the giant oak trees, I wonder when we will march out to face the Parthians.
"Now. We are organising into marching formation in a few minutes." He says.
"I didn't realise I had spoken aloud." I reply. Taking another look at the officer whose name slips escapes me, I see that that his ears are actually quite large and floppy. Like an Elephant's. I think better of mentioning Hannibal's monsters here though. I look around and see that the camps are emptying out. Yet I don't see pack animals and men getting ready to march. The camps are just... empty.
Where is everybody?
..........................................................
I look to the left and right, and I'm the only one here. Did I pass out? Even the floppy eared officer is gone. As I keep moving forward, looking for the camp, or the Parthians, I feel a sudden chill. It is very cold.
Not surprising, I can see snow on the mountains off in the distance. I can literally see the wind and the breeze push against me. I struggle to move forward, but I must find the Legion and take my place among their ranks.
..........................................................
I start to perspire.
How many hours has it been since I last saw someone?
It is difficult to keep moving on these empty plains of rolling hills and abundant farmland. Especially when you know not where your friends and foes are.
As I sit down, exhausted from my travel, I see in the distance... something.
..........................................................
Centaur? No... could it really be?
But my eyes do not deceive me, I can clearly see a Centaur, Centaurs in the distance!
I need to catch a better glimpse of these creatures. My mind is in shock, and I am in awe. They are majestic, just like the tales describe them. I admit, I only felt that they were legend that the Greeks made up, but they are real! Gods sustain me! Centaurs are real!
I run, sprinting now, my armour is heavy, it's dragging me down. I keep moving forward.
My head-dress is making me lose my balance. I keep moving forward.
There are a herd of Centaurs so close, there are no longer in the distance any longer. I keep moving forward.
My bruised, dirty and sweating body collapses in heap. I look up, in the glistening sunlight, I can see the Centaur herd. Oh Gods, one of them is approaching me.
I smile at it, and it smiles back!
Oh, how wonderful to see and experience something that dreams are made of.
AARGH!!
I scream with my entire being, looking faintly at the Centaur. In his hand is a snake. A long snake. It's outstretched and has bitten into me deeply. I can see the Centaur, still smiling at me. There are no smiles from me. Only blood, and tears.
Why?
I fall to the ground, lying perfectly still. My breaths. They are... becoming laboured. I find it hard... to form my own... thoughts...
The forest around me grows dim... I close my eyes...
I open my eyes, I'm in the rolling hills.... now... growing dark.... I close my eyes...
I open my eyes again... cold... so cold.... I close my eyes...
My eyes open again... I look across.... the desert plains...
I see a shallo... w grave.
I see sand, always moving.
I see it swallow... ing men whole, robbing them of ev... erything.
I see pestile....nce... in the air. Flies, mo... squitoes and vu... ltures feed on the remains of men... and animal alike.
I see death.
Suddenly my wife's words come back to me "Never trust what you see".
I laughed, as more blood splurged from my mouth.
All of it and none of it seemed to make sense all at once.
I coughed again and closed my eyes once more.
For the final time.
"Sarpa Salpa".
TotW 105a - Bushido
Takashi Munemitsu looked across the field of battle. It was large, flat, great for pitched battle, yet it had a pristine serenity to it. Something he couldn't put into words. It was simply stunning.
The weather however, was less impressive. It was a cloudy, smoggy afternoon. Rays of sunshine would occasionally break through the clouds, but for the most part it was a most unsatisfying climate to an otherwise excellent occasion.
The enemy were arrayed in green, their clothing proving difficult to distinguish from the grass. Takashi wondered whether the colour of their clothing would be a help or a hindrance. He soon realised that he was merely being distracted by a petty issue. "There will be much honor and dishonor gained today." he said aloud. No response, though others around him nodded silently.
He looked up to the mounted warriors, with their General at it's head. He looked like he was about to say something. Takashi smiled to himself, "can't resist giving a big speech before the big battle, eh?" he thought.
Suddenly, the General's horse reared on it's hind legs, giving the General extra height. The beast neighed, though to Takashi, it sounded more like a roar.
"My friends!" The General bellowed, "We have come here today at the behest of our enemy."
Silence.
"We did not wish to upset the peace of our two clans, yet they have shown our civility no end of contempt by coming here.
We who stand here bravely, do so to protect our way of life. Our friends. Our loved ones. Our home. Our clan.
They come here to take all that is rightfully ours and so, they come into our lands thinking that we are weak. They come here thinking we cannot defend ourselves. They come here thinking they can beat us.
I know better. All of you know better. And by the end of this battle, they will know better!
So fight, my brothers! Fight! For Honor! For Family! For Clan!!"
Takashi looked around as men around him cheered, he too felt emboldened by the General's speech, his words filling him with courage. He felt renewed, invigorated. "They are never going to beat us", he thought. But he didn't just think that, he knew that.
His eyes welled up, and as the army charged at the enemy, men screaming as they ran towards their destiny, Takashi couldn't control his emotions, he was ablaze with pride at who he was, doing what he was, and the honor that came with it.
Like many of the other men, Takashi ran with wild abandon, screaming at the top of his lungs and as he moved closer and closer to his destiny, one thought pulsed in his mind.
"I love being an historical reenactor."
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for you kind Sir....
