Are we going to do a round robin here, too?

[Elara]

If so, can we have some basic rules in doing it?

[Sir_Funkalot]

I'd be interested in participiating. About the rules, shouldn't we ask Bpen?

[Archchancellor]

Here are some rules i'm not as good at it as b-pen but here we go

1:No mutilating plot lines of other players
2:No changing character, background story, except in the scrpt of the story
3: each must be at least one page long
4:No mutilating someone elses story to make it come out the way you want

Thats all from me


/me slides back into the arena

[Sir_Funkalot]

So, who wants to participiate?
And who's going to start the whole thing/write the first chapter?

Should we make some kind of a list, over which chapters is up to which persons to write, if the chapters shall be at least one page long it's pretty likely that more than one person writes, for example Chapter 5 and then realizes, just as he/she is going to post it, that someone else has already posted a Chapter 5...

[Archchancellor]

I'll do it. I've given up on trying to write for the igf (which im sure elara knows about... unlesss shes been living under a rock )

what setting first

[bloodbathmaster2]

what setting first

Why, Fallout, of course! Perhaps just before the arrival of the the Vault Dweller?

[Sir_Funkalot]

Would you be interested in participiating as well, BB2?
If so, we're 4 now...

[Archchancellor]

NO which state could be eastern america stuff like that

[Sir_Funkalot]

What about the travels of Goris, the last remaining intelligent deathclaw?
Or something like that...

Someone, please make the first chapter, yes I mean YOU...

[Archchancellor]

Ok' ill give it a whirl unless someone gets it up before me

[Archchancellor]

should get it done by this afternoon my time

[Sir_Funkalot]

If I've understood everything, the following will participiate in the round-robin:

Archchancellor
I, Sir_Funkalot
Elara

Others may be welcome to tell about them wanting to participiate until the first chapter is posted, I guess.

Archchancellor will come up with the story (write the first chapter).

Read the rules that Archchancellor posted, and accept them if you want to participiate.

Have I forgotten something?

Who should write the second chapter, Elara? Me or you?

Which time in GMT, Arch?

[Archchancellor]

It was the stroke of midnight when a cloaked wanderer walked into the city. He openly held disgust in his face at the cities poverty. The man in question he was looking for was a convict of the tribal war. That the man had incited. The wanderer walked down the street slowly. He heard the squeak of oiled leather and he paused
“I wouldn’t even begin to think about it� he said to the shadows
“Give us one good reason why we shouldn’t kill you right here and now� a rusty voice said as he and a group of
“Better than that I’ll give you two� the clacked man said and with drew a pair of berretta from his belt “Now how long do you think your knifes will last against bullets at point blank range last?� he asked the me
“If you fire that thing once your going to have a shit-load of angry villagers on you hand� the rusty voiced man told him. “The noise will wake every one in this god damned village�. He said hurriedly while having thoughts about his own mortality.
“You know you’re right� the man told the gangs leader as he withdrew two cylinders from his pockets and attached one on each pistol. The wanderer then fired them each at the gang leaders feet “Hooray for the sounds of fucking silence� he snarled at them. “Now get the fuck out of my sight� he quietly said to them. All of the gang members apart from the leader fled.
“I’ll be back and I’ll have more men then you have bullets with me� he said warningly. The wanderer shrugged perceptibly
“If you live that long� he told him and as the man turned around to leave the cloaked one said “I haven’t finished with you yet� he said catching up to the man with surprising speed for one just walking “Now why don’t you tell me where the pub is?� he asked lifting the man up. The leader drew a knife from the extremities and tried to slice the wanderers belly a metal scraping sound was clearly heard and then the knife broke from the hilt.
“Don’t do that,� the wanderer said warily and punched the man in the kidneys “Now where’s the pub?� he asked the writhing man and shaking him.
“At the end of the street� the man said in pain
“Your too kind� the wanderer lied and then dropped him to the ground. The man clutched his kidneys once he got back in possession of his body “The world won’t miss you� the wanderer said and the small exertion of the pistol was heard. The gang leader sighed and then collapsed a bullet hole clearly seen on his forehead. The wanderer turned and walked away from the corpse of the leader he had just killed.

The man removed the head of his cloak and it was clearly seen that he had long brown hair
He walked up to the only lighted building of the street then entered. The stench of stale beer hit him immediately and it was all he could do not to gag at the smell. All conversation in the room stopped and twenty people looked at him from different angles. This went on for about a minute before the murmur of conversation and the brown haired man went to a table in the corner and sat down.
“Hey max look at the bloody newcomer� someone whispered nearby “He looks like a complete tit�
“Shut up. Shut up he might hear you� another voice whispered
“So what it’s the one our boss wanted to know about.� The voice replied.
“Ok, ok so you want to kill him?� another voice joined in
The wanderer motioned over a serving woman
“Yes may I help you?� she asked
“What’s on the tap?� he asked her
“Beer, whiskey, rotgut and some Nuka Cola� she said hurriedly not obviously wanting to be seen with him
“Bottle of whiskey please� he said to her.
“That will be twenty dollars,� she said grumbling the wanderer gave her twenty coins and she left quickly to talk to the barman. The lady came back quickly and handed him the bottle and sped away just as fast to serve another patron. The stench of alcohol became stronger as three men neared him
“Why don’t you give us some of that?� a swaying man asked. He instantly recognized the voice as the whisperer that wished to kill him
“No� the wanderer said freeing his hands from the cloak he wore “Now why don’t you tell me who your working for?� he asked them
“Damn he knows who we are� one said all pre-tenses of being drunk gone now he withdrew a mean looking knife “lets rumble� he said to the other two men. The other patrons of the bar watched in interest as the fight began. The wanderer moved like a blur throwing up the table up into the air and kicking one of them men in the head before it had gotten one meter off the floor. Another man fell with his own knife into his knee, and he third fell with a broken arm and a kick to the groin. The table landed feet first on the ground and the bottle of whiskey was caught before it hit the ground. Some of the patrons began to applause and the applause soon became a roar as the wanderer sat back down at the table. The man scowled and then there was complete and utter silence apart from the three men who were writhing on the floor clutching various parts of their body.

He motioned over the barman who walked over hurriedly.
“How may I help you good sir?� he asked
“First of all I would like some help who do you have renting out rooms�
“I’m sorry si I may only give that information out to the police or the military. The wanderer sighed while pulling out a card and handing it to the man.
“Lt. Rayen Valesky of the new FBI� he said taking back the card from the barman “I wish to know if you have a man with pure white hair here?� he asked him
“We did have a man of that description here a few days. Sorry Sir I though he was just another trader.� he said his face turning into a nervous grin
“No worries, No worries� the man said to the nervous barman “Secondly do you have a spare room which I can rent?� he asked
“Yes Sir� he said quickly and then said “its seven dollars a night� Rayen pressed the money into the barkeeps hand
“Where is the room?� he asked
“Up stair first door on the right� the barman said and scurried away. The Lt. Quickly drank the bottle of whiskey and went to his room. Trying to catch some sleep

Round Robins supposed to be spontaneous so lets just say you write the next chapter eh? Fear me for i haev taken B-Pens Mass Production Perk

[Sir_Funkalot]

Okay, I'll continue working with the second chapter, then. Is Elara even aware of the round-robin having started already?

[Megatron]

can I join in?

[Sir_Funkalot]

Here's chapter 2:

Chapter 2
The lieutenant got to sleep four hours before he was woke up, hearing noises outside of his window. Rayen hurried to the window, in order to see the tumult taking place beneath it. He noticed three men pouncing another man unconscious. Being pretty sure that these three men had some connection with the white-haired man Rayen got dressed quickly and threw himself down the staircase, out of the hotel. The Lt. came just in time to a wagon, with the unconscious man tied to it, rolling out of the city.
“Hey. What the h--- do you think you’re doing? Pull over!� Rayen screamed to the driver of the wagon, whilst trying to catch up with the vehicle.
“Mind your own business, mister, or this will be your last one.� One of the passengers said, as he threw a grenade at Rayen.
In order to get out of the way for the grenade Rayen had to give up the chase of the wagon. He managed to take cover behind a small building and could feel the grenade exploding. A young woman, maybe not more than 20 years of age, rushed to him.
“You’ve got to hide. The whole city would blame you for what’ve happened. Come with me. Hurry!� The girl forced Rayen with her into a house of some sort.
“Hide here.� She pointed at a door leading to a small, dark room. “I’ll come back later.�
Rayen could hear people outside and he had no intention at the time not to follow the woman’s advice.

After a while the inhabitants seemed to return to their beds, and soon after the girl returned.
“Sorry for not introducing myself earlier, but I had to calm the other villagers. I am Sarah, and the man that was kidnapped is my brother Jiwin. What’s your name, by the way?�
“I am lieutenant Rayen Valesky of the new FBI� he responded.
“Pleasure to meet you Lt. Valesky� she said.�
“Please, say Rayen. Do you know why those guys kidnapped your brother, Sarah?�
“Jiwin is that sort of guy that always end up in trouble. He knows these guys, used to be in their gang I think, but then that white-haired man came…� Sarah looked around nervously, almost as she was afraid that the man was in her house.
“The man introduced the gang to heavy criminal activity, Jiwin would never sink that low, so I guess he tried to quit. He might know some things that the gang don’t want the rest of the world to know, some terrible secret maybe.�
“Do you know anything more, Sarah?�
“A couple of days ago the white-haired man came to the town again, being at rush, it seemed. He gave Jiwin an ultimatum, follow them now or get into big trouble.� Sarah’s face changed character, as she wanted to show how pride she were over her brother.
“Of course my brother refused, and I guess the white-haired man ordered the gang to take care of Jiwin.�
Suddenly Sarah burst into tears. “Please find my brother for me, Rayen, he’s the last one I’ve got left.�
“There, there, I’ll find him, somehow� Rayen said trying to comfort Sarah.
“In fact, I’m looking for this white-haired man as well, he’s an escaped convict, and I have been assigned to find and arrest (or kill if necessary) him by the new US government.�
Hearing these comforting words Sarah stopped crying and hugged Rayen.
“Thank you Rayen, you can’t imagine how grateful I am for your aid. But now, you must leave the town before anyone starts to look through all the houses in search for you.�

Sarah collected some food, water flasks and a couple of hundred bucks in a backpack and gave it to Rayen. “Take the backpack, you’ll probably need it.�
“Thank you Sarah, this will help a lot. I’d love to stay, but I need to leave, the darkness I must take cover in is beginning to leave the village. Promise me to take care of yourself until I return with your brother.� Rayen kissed Sarah on the forehead, grabbed the backpack and exited the house. Just after Rayen’s departure a tall, ugly man entered Sarah’s house and drugged her, before he brought her with him as he left the city in his wagon.

Meanwhile Rayen had managed to leave the city, and wandered into the desert, in the direction he had seen the first wagon disappear…
--------------------

We might want to clear some things out. This white-haired man, what's he called? It would help if I don't have to write "the white-haired man" all the time.
And also, I imagine the man being a convict that escaped a while ago, meaning he has travelled to the city some time before...

Okay, who's next, Elara?

[Section8]

Chapter 3

The floor was warm and smooth. That meant he was waking up on his own real estate. His fucking quality real estate, not that he'd ever purchased it. The plated metal was warm with his own body heat, and when he rolled over, it got very fucking cold very fucking quickly. He stood, smearing away the small puddle of drool in disgust, the rubber soles of his boots not doing much to soak up the almost sticky patch of saliva, rather mixing it with grime and redistributing it.

Robt Diestler. He liked reading his own nametag. Embroidered on his overalls by a nameless sellbaby, he liked reading it. It reassured him that he was the fucking man. It also helped on the mornings he could barely remember it. This was one of those mornings, if it even was fucking morning. His head was everywhere. The brief walk to his bunk was a difficult one, with head pounding and legs not quite as steady as they should be. He pulled his threadbare blankets over his head and pondered.

The Chamber had once belonged to a man called Kraus. Fuck knows who had it before him. The Chamber's history was no doubt a long and varied one, but it was never passed on beyond the first degree of seperation. Kraus had been good to him. Diestler wasn't much in a scuffle, he was tall, but wiry, and without the killer instinct so many wastelanders readily adopted. Kraus had been the muscle. They'd worked as a team, along with a few others, whose names swirled like cigarette smoke inside Diestler's disarrayed head. Most of them were fuckers anyway, and at that defining moment, the poignant intersection on life's great timeline, where Kraus had calmly taken his own life, Diestler had locked the rest of them out forever.

They tried to get back in, of course. The Chamber was fucking impregnable. It was the safest place in the wasteland to be. And they were outside it. Locked outside. Where they stayed, and camped for as long as their supplies lasted, while Diestler patiently waited inside a sealed chamber with a slowly decaying corpse. The stench of death was still vaguely detectable, even years later. Diestler didn't mind, after all, the Chamber was never actually passed on from Kraus' ownership. It was kind of fitting that a part of him still remained, if a lingering rot counts as part of someone.

The pounding eclipsed all conscious thought that Diestler might have been having. The whole place was reverberating with each solid knock. The tone was demanding, but far from any attempt at breaching the dome shaped metal chamber. Even so, visitors weren't exactly encouraged, so who the fuck was this interupting Diestler's recovery?

Through the peephole, and between the welded struts the kept the peephole lens out of danger, Diestler could make out two figures, one being held at gunpoint by the other. Roughly, and with little finesse, the large man was quite clearly trying to let Diestler know that if he didn't open up, the woman was dead. Just the kind of moral dilemna he needed on the downside of a chemical enhanced night before. It was not the time to try and bluff at the cost of somebody elses life.

"What the fuck do you want scumbag? Speak." crackled the speaker. The figure looked around, slightly puzzled. Not too bright. "Into the baffle to the left of the door"

"I need somewhere to keep safe for a few days. I won't hurt anyone if you let me in, but if you don't..." he pulled back the hammer of his handgun, and shoved it against the woman's temple, intentions made very clear.

"The girl. What's she to you?"

"What ya mean?"

"Why have you got her? Hostages ain't much good unless they're important."

"She's no-one."

"Send her in. She's your accomodation costs."

"She stays with me."

"Then what the fuck am I getting out of this deal?"

"I'm sure you'd hate to see this young things brains splattered across your door."

It was on. He took the first step on the tightrope. "You can't have both. You can't fucking threaten to kill her, and refuse to sell her to me." he paused and then added with a grimace "I call you out fucker. She's more than just a hostage, she's a captive, and you can't kill her." Diestler was sprinting the fucking tightrope.

"Smart. You're one smart little maggot. We'll play ball then. This girl is worth a lot to my current employer, but I don't fucking care where the pay comes from, so make a bid. Then she's yours and I'm on my merry way."

Testing. The story seemed true enough, but it was clear the ogre of a man at the door to the Chamber was trying to wrest things back in his favour. No matter what bid he made, he was leaving himself open, and encouraging the fucker to welsh on the deal, kill Diestler, kill the girl and usurp the Chamber.

"Look down to the right. Crank that handle around to the right and give it a good yank. Inside you'll find every type of chem under the sun. In quantity." the speaker masked Diestler's shaky voice, and showed none of the cold sweat beading across his brow. "That's yours. Take it, and drop your gun into the drawer. You'll get it back, but I need you unarmed for obvious reasons."

"And what's to stop me taking the chems and icing this bitch?"

"What I just gave you is only golden eggs." Diestler swallowed hard, trying to clear the lump that had risen in his throat. "The reward for behaving is the goose that lays them. A case with the goods you need to brew your own chems. It's even got recipes, but you might need to find somebody to read them for you."

"Ha fucking ha. I accept your terms, but if you even think about screwing me I'll come back with a can opener."

"Good to hear. Gun in the drawer, and back up 20 steps. Make that 40 steps." Diestler appended, preparing to open the door. The man outside complied, backing up about 15 steps. He now stood defiantly, daring Diestler to step outside. A deep breath, and Diestler pulled the knife switch that powered the mechanical door. It sparked into life and the heavy door slowly swung on it's sturdy hinges. The woman collapsed through the door, obviously in a bad way, judging by the battered and bruised face that was mostly obscured by dirty and blood-caked blonde hair. The knife switch was returned to it's original position, and the Chamber was once again sealed.

"Was a pleasure doing business with you" grinned the skag outside as he pulled the briefcase from the drawer, and then deposited his handgun in it's holster. He gave a last melodramatic bow, and departed with his wagon. Which left Diestler half of his stock, and one makeshift chem set less what he had when he woke up. This girl had better be able to make herself useful.

"You, what's your name?" Diestler asked of the female figure which had managed to assume a sitting position.

"Sarah" she replied through split and cracked lips.

"Well Sarah, I just bought your life. Nothing personal, I'm a sucker for the damsel in distress thing. Just to be clear, you aren't my slave or prisoner and you can leave whenever you want. But I'm guessing you are a long way from any kind of home, and might need somewhere safe. Safety comes at a price. I can get you back on your feet, but I'm not a fucking samaritan, so you help me with my work.

"Now. The grand tour. As you can see, this whole place is one big fucking room, and I can't recommend touching a single thing unless you ask me first. The "amenities" are over there, and you should be able to find stims...er...somewhere. Oh and I wouldn't go outside. He'll be back with friends to try and get into this place. They can't, but they'll try. Now if you'll excuse me..." Diestler tailed off, falling into a deep sleep.

Sarah simply gazed around the room filled with tools, apparatus, bits and pieces of mechanical devices, scattered with the disarray of mad inventors that only exist in fiction, and sighed, contemplating the gruff enigma that gently snored beneath tattered blankets, and the dome shaped desert fortress she now stood safely within.

[Archchancellor]

Nope, Good so far SF, Pyro you can join if you want and Elara if she knows can do chapter 4 or 5

[Archchancellor]

Nope, Good so far SF, Pyro you can join if you want and Elara if she knows can do chapter 4 or 5
then we can continue

[Archchancellor]

Nope, Good so far SF, Pyro you can join if you want and Elara if she knows can do chapter 4 or 5
then we can continue