Rifts - DMH - Camp Union
Rifts - DMH - Camp Union
OOC: Placeholder
"I plan to live forever. Or die trying..." Vila - Blakes 7
Rifts - DMH - Camp Union
The jail doors shouldn’t have been open. Dusty knew that the moment the first latch gave way under his hand; too smooth, too easy, like someone wanted them gone. He didn’t question it. He just pushed Vi and Megana through the dark corridor until the warm night air slapped their faces.
Behind the jail sat a hulking shadow: a seventy‑foot XM‑350 Leopard Mark II Armored Personnel Carrier, gutted, humming, keys dangling in the ignition like bait. Diesel fumes drifted in the air, waiting for them like some metal beast eager to be stolen. They drove off into the night, finding a gulley beside Muddy Lake.
They hid inside until the town slept. Only then did Vi slip back into the streets to leave her trembling, tear‑stained goodbyes; Kendal, Coach Driver, Ethan, Esther. She returned with her heart cracked open.
But she wasn’t alone. Megana emerged from the darkness on Thunder, the horse she once raced against. The animal’s gait was wrong, stiff, hesitant. Dr. Greenwood’s “adjustments” to its neural transmitters had left Thunder half‑numb, half‑haunted. Megana’s eyes were sharp when she spotted Vi. “They’re searching for you,” she whispered. “All of them.” She could have shouted and turned Vi in. Instead, she slid off Thunder and made her choice, “I’m coming with you.”
Thunder was loaded into the APC’s cavernous cargo bay, and the three fugitives fled northeast, the engine growling like a wounded predator.
The Road North:
Days later, in a forgotten mountain town called Dillton, Dusty finally told them what they were driving. “A Deutschland carrier,” he said, patting the metal wall like an old friend. “One of a kind on this side of the world. Been passed around more than a bad rumor.”
Most of its weapons were long gone; railgun turrets empty, ion cannon malfunctioning, laser turrets starving for energy clips. But the smoke launchers still worked, and the twelve massive tires were nearly indestructible. Thunder roamed freely in the cargo bay, her hooves echoing like distant drums. Dusty made the girls repeat the most important detail: “It runs on diesel. Say it.”
They did.
He grinned, wide and unburdened, “We liberated Marty Swenson’s pride and joy. Now he can focus on fixing his son. This heap’s our home for a while.” And so it became.
A Month of Monsters and Mountains:
They followed the river north, the APC crawling through canyons, forests, and blizzards. Beauty and terror traded places every few days; nightmarish creatures lunging from the dark, arrows from unseen tribes, cliffs that crumbled beneath their wheels. Megana eventually learned to drive. Vi learned to control electricity... sometimes too well, nearly frying the APC’s systems. Dusty taught them to fight, revealing abilities that made both girls question what he truly was. He floated. He summoned knives from thin air. He seized objects without touching them. Vi eventually learned that last trick.
Megana discovered her own gifts, like reading surface thoughts, feeling the emotions of animals, slipping into the rhythm of nature like she’d always belonged there. Dusty pushed them hard. Harder than they thought they could endure.
The Dam and the Confluence:
Weeks later, they found the ruins of a hydroelectric dam, its collapse being centuries old. The land beyond had been washed clean, leaving a flat, eerie expanse of sagebrush and lonely trees. Travel became easier; until the river widened into a monstrous confluence, a quarter mile across, roaring like a living thing, forcing them to double back, crossing a decaying bridge that groaned under the APC’s weight. It collapsed behind them in a thunderous crash. Luckily...
Ahead waited a wooden fortress standing twenty to thirty feet high, ringed with sharpened stakes. Dusty stepped out first. Something felt wrong. Before he could speak, shadows erupted from the snow. Native warriors swarmed them, silent and swift. The trio was taken.
Five Months in Camp Union:
Their cages were small. The cold was merciless. Megana and Vi nearly froze the first month, saved only by the rare mercy of being allowed to occasionally share a cage for warmth. Dusty survived through sheer, terrifying will.
The tribe spoke little around them. Dusty warned the girls every night: “Don’t fight. Don’t run. This is their land. Their rules. You want a fast, ugly death, then try something stupid.”
Gradually, trust grew. Megana tended to Thunder. They were fed real meals. They joined in games, rituals, chores. But the gates never opened for them. The sign above the wall read Camp Union, burned over an older word; Fort.
Dusty learned their language. He trained the girls in secret, sharpening their senses, their instincts, their resolve. Snow piled twenty feet high. Trails were nothing more than hallways dug into the snow. Food grew scarce. Hunger gnawed at the camp.
Rumors began circulating about Thunder might have to be eaten.
Blood in the Snow:
On a hunting trip, Megana accompanied a warrior who had no intention of tracking deer. His hands grabbed where they shouldn’t. Her first real fight was brutal, desperate, and nearly fatal. Chief Crystal Rock and Ant Fastfeet had followed to see if she’d try to escape. Instead, they found her fighting for her life.
The warrior was scalped on the spot. Megana earned her first feather.
Visions of Fire and Darkness:
Vi’s electricity fascinated Bayla Sunsmoke, the tribe’s shaman. Under Bayla’s urging, and Dusty’s cautious nod, Vi tried peyote.
The visions tore her apart. Teddy with a mechanical red eye. A freckled, orange-haired man burning alive, screaming in rage. A starving boy with a worm for a scarf and a giant bird perched on him, as he smirked at Vi. And worst of all; a monstrous humanoid with a lipless face, blowhole nostrils, black eyes glowing with crescent moons. Its clawed hand reached for her as she crawled through molasses‑thick air, unable to flee.
She woke choking on vomit, drenched in cold sweat. Bayla only said, “You have seen your destiny. And you are powerful.”
The Hunt Begins:
Today, for the first time, all three are allowed to leave together. The tribe is starving. Children grow weak. Fish are scarce. The APC’s rations are long gone.
Dusty pulls on his fur coat, handing furs to the girls, “Well,” he says, breath fogging in the icy air, “time to earn our stay. Took them long enough to trust us.” He points south, toward the river and the dark line of trees beyond. “Game’ll be thicker down there. More places to hide. You two ready?”
The snow is deep. The wind is sharp. Hunger presses in from all sides. And somewhere in the wilderness, something watches.
OOC: Welcome to the real world of Rifts!
Behind the jail sat a hulking shadow: a seventy‑foot XM‑350 Leopard Mark II Armored Personnel Carrier, gutted, humming, keys dangling in the ignition like bait. Diesel fumes drifted in the air, waiting for them like some metal beast eager to be stolen. They drove off into the night, finding a gulley beside Muddy Lake.
They hid inside until the town slept. Only then did Vi slip back into the streets to leave her trembling, tear‑stained goodbyes; Kendal, Coach Driver, Ethan, Esther. She returned with her heart cracked open.
But she wasn’t alone. Megana emerged from the darkness on Thunder, the horse she once raced against. The animal’s gait was wrong, stiff, hesitant. Dr. Greenwood’s “adjustments” to its neural transmitters had left Thunder half‑numb, half‑haunted. Megana’s eyes were sharp when she spotted Vi. “They’re searching for you,” she whispered. “All of them.” She could have shouted and turned Vi in. Instead, she slid off Thunder and made her choice, “I’m coming with you.”
Thunder was loaded into the APC’s cavernous cargo bay, and the three fugitives fled northeast, the engine growling like a wounded predator.
The Road North:
Days later, in a forgotten mountain town called Dillton, Dusty finally told them what they were driving. “A Deutschland carrier,” he said, patting the metal wall like an old friend. “One of a kind on this side of the world. Been passed around more than a bad rumor.”
Most of its weapons were long gone; railgun turrets empty, ion cannon malfunctioning, laser turrets starving for energy clips. But the smoke launchers still worked, and the twelve massive tires were nearly indestructible. Thunder roamed freely in the cargo bay, her hooves echoing like distant drums. Dusty made the girls repeat the most important detail: “It runs on diesel. Say it.”
They did.
He grinned, wide and unburdened, “We liberated Marty Swenson’s pride and joy. Now he can focus on fixing his son. This heap’s our home for a while.” And so it became.
A Month of Monsters and Mountains:
They followed the river north, the APC crawling through canyons, forests, and blizzards. Beauty and terror traded places every few days; nightmarish creatures lunging from the dark, arrows from unseen tribes, cliffs that crumbled beneath their wheels. Megana eventually learned to drive. Vi learned to control electricity... sometimes too well, nearly frying the APC’s systems. Dusty taught them to fight, revealing abilities that made both girls question what he truly was. He floated. He summoned knives from thin air. He seized objects without touching them. Vi eventually learned that last trick.
Megana discovered her own gifts, like reading surface thoughts, feeling the emotions of animals, slipping into the rhythm of nature like she’d always belonged there. Dusty pushed them hard. Harder than they thought they could endure.
The Dam and the Confluence:
Weeks later, they found the ruins of a hydroelectric dam, its collapse being centuries old. The land beyond had been washed clean, leaving a flat, eerie expanse of sagebrush and lonely trees. Travel became easier; until the river widened into a monstrous confluence, a quarter mile across, roaring like a living thing, forcing them to double back, crossing a decaying bridge that groaned under the APC’s weight. It collapsed behind them in a thunderous crash. Luckily...
Ahead waited a wooden fortress standing twenty to thirty feet high, ringed with sharpened stakes. Dusty stepped out first. Something felt wrong. Before he could speak, shadows erupted from the snow. Native warriors swarmed them, silent and swift. The trio was taken.
Five Months in Camp Union:
Their cages were small. The cold was merciless. Megana and Vi nearly froze the first month, saved only by the rare mercy of being allowed to occasionally share a cage for warmth. Dusty survived through sheer, terrifying will.
The tribe spoke little around them. Dusty warned the girls every night: “Don’t fight. Don’t run. This is their land. Their rules. You want a fast, ugly death, then try something stupid.”
Gradually, trust grew. Megana tended to Thunder. They were fed real meals. They joined in games, rituals, chores. But the gates never opened for them. The sign above the wall read Camp Union, burned over an older word; Fort.
Dusty learned their language. He trained the girls in secret, sharpening their senses, their instincts, their resolve. Snow piled twenty feet high. Trails were nothing more than hallways dug into the snow. Food grew scarce. Hunger gnawed at the camp.
Rumors began circulating about Thunder might have to be eaten.
Blood in the Snow:
On a hunting trip, Megana accompanied a warrior who had no intention of tracking deer. His hands grabbed where they shouldn’t. Her first real fight was brutal, desperate, and nearly fatal. Chief Crystal Rock and Ant Fastfeet had followed to see if she’d try to escape. Instead, they found her fighting for her life.
The warrior was scalped on the spot. Megana earned her first feather.
Visions of Fire and Darkness:
Vi’s electricity fascinated Bayla Sunsmoke, the tribe’s shaman. Under Bayla’s urging, and Dusty’s cautious nod, Vi tried peyote.
The visions tore her apart. Teddy with a mechanical red eye. A freckled, orange-haired man burning alive, screaming in rage. A starving boy with a worm for a scarf and a giant bird perched on him, as he smirked at Vi. And worst of all; a monstrous humanoid with a lipless face, blowhole nostrils, black eyes glowing with crescent moons. Its clawed hand reached for her as she crawled through molasses‑thick air, unable to flee.
She woke choking on vomit, drenched in cold sweat. Bayla only said, “You have seen your destiny. And you are powerful.”
The Hunt Begins:
Today, for the first time, all three are allowed to leave together. The tribe is starving. Children grow weak. Fish are scarce. The APC’s rations are long gone.
Dusty pulls on his fur coat, handing furs to the girls, “Well,” he says, breath fogging in the icy air, “time to earn our stay. Took them long enough to trust us.” He points south, toward the river and the dark line of trees beyond. “Game’ll be thicker down there. More places to hide. You two ready?”
The snow is deep. The wind is sharp. Hunger presses in from all sides. And somewhere in the wilderness, something watches.
OOC: Welcome to the real world of Rifts!
"I plan to live forever. Or die trying..." Vila - Blakes 7
Re: Rifts - DMH - Camp Union
"Lets get started we dont have much time..."Megana takes the fur and put them out as she preps thunder's saddle to use the animal to carry back any prey they kill
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artistic-witch
- Scout
- Posts: 201
- Joined: Tue Jun 08, 2021 8:42 pm
Re: Rifts - DMH - Camp Union
Vi takes the furs from dusty and puts them on , trying to stay warm .
With the hungry starting to creep in , the cold biting at vi's face .
Vi looks at the surroundings , " Ok guys , i do agree lets do this . lets get started and hope we can get some food . "
With the hungry starting to creep in , the cold biting at vi's face .
Vi looks at the surroundings , " Ok guys , i do agree lets do this . lets get started and hope we can get some food . "
Re: Rifts - DMH - Camp Union
Megana looks around for any sort of animal tracks"Lets go deeper into the forest maybe we can pick up some tracks there as we are too close to the tribe..."
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artistic-witch
- Scout
- Posts: 201
- Joined: Tue Jun 08, 2021 8:42 pm
Re: Rifts - DMH - Camp Union
Vi listens to Megana while looking around ," yeah i agree , besides that i rather not be out in the open."
Re: Rifts - DMH - Camp Union
"Lets get started. We don't have much time," Megana and Vi both pull the furs over themselves, trying to generate more warmth as Meg prepares Thunder's saddle for packing any kills they score.
With the cold biting in and hunger gnawing at her, Vi nods, "Okay guys, I agree. Let's get started. Hopefully, we can get some food."
Megana looks around for any sort of animal tracks, (Tracking Roll = 03%. NICE!!) "Let's go deeper into the forest. Maybe we can pick up some tracks there. We're too close to the tribe..."
Vi looks around, "Yeah, besides that, I'd rather not be out in the open."
"Okay, you two. Let's go back to the hand signals I showed you," as he makes a shooshing motion, putting his index finger over his lips with a goofy smile, "You'll scare everything away with all this jibber-jabber."
The trio moves several hundred yards down, following the hallway of snow, eventually appearing on open ground, or ice... covering the river. Megana spots the tracks of a herd of white-tailed deer, probably a dozen. She points and leans down, as does Dusty, examining some droppings. Even though they're frozen, they couldn't be more than an hour old. Dusty produces a knife, as he motions Megana to pull out her MP-10, and holds it like he's ready to throw it. He moves behind Megana, allowing her to follow the tracks, as he motions for Vi to only step inside Megana's and his snowprints, as Thunder follows behind, obviously cold as well.
The cold is beginning to sting everyone's nostrils and eyes. Vi remembers that she has goggles. Megana wishes she had even a scarf as Dusty wraps a fur scarf around his nose and mouth.
With the cold biting in and hunger gnawing at her, Vi nods, "Okay guys, I agree. Let's get started. Hopefully, we can get some food."
Megana looks around for any sort of animal tracks, (Tracking Roll = 03%. NICE!!) "Let's go deeper into the forest. Maybe we can pick up some tracks there. We're too close to the tribe..."
Vi looks around, "Yeah, besides that, I'd rather not be out in the open."
"Okay, you two. Let's go back to the hand signals I showed you," as he makes a shooshing motion, putting his index finger over his lips with a goofy smile, "You'll scare everything away with all this jibber-jabber."
The trio moves several hundred yards down, following the hallway of snow, eventually appearing on open ground, or ice... covering the river. Megana spots the tracks of a herd of white-tailed deer, probably a dozen. She points and leans down, as does Dusty, examining some droppings. Even though they're frozen, they couldn't be more than an hour old. Dusty produces a knife, as he motions Megana to pull out her MP-10, and holds it like he's ready to throw it. He moves behind Megana, allowing her to follow the tracks, as he motions for Vi to only step inside Megana's and his snowprints, as Thunder follows behind, obviously cold as well.
The cold is beginning to sting everyone's nostrils and eyes. Vi remembers that she has goggles. Megana wishes she had even a scarf as Dusty wraps a fur scarf around his nose and mouth.
"I plan to live forever. Or die trying..." Vila - Blakes 7
Re: Rifts - DMH - Camp Union
Megana keeps following the tracks keeping her eyes and ears open for deer or any kind of wildlife hoping whoever is out there will smile luck onto them to break back meat to the tribe so no one starves.
Re: Rifts - DMH - Camp Union
Megana continues following the tracks keeping vigilant. Up ahead, past the opposite river bank, amongst the trees, she spots at least six deer, digging in the snow, trying to pull up grass to eat. She figures their distance at about two hundred feet. Dusty notices, stopping and holding up a fist for Vi to stop. Thunder also stops, getting used to his hand signals. He whispers, "If you think you can make the shot, then go for it, otherwise, we need to get closer and the snow is a bit noisy," as another painfully cold wind gust whips across the trio.
"I plan to live forever. Or die trying..." Vila - Blakes 7
Re: Rifts - DMH - Camp Union
Megana takes her time and aim down sights but halts calculating in her mind as she adjust for wind and aims to compensate for wind speed and her target is the larger deer of the six