Creative Writing Discussion Thread

War. War Never Changes.
The Romans waged war to gather slaves and wealth.
Spain built an empire, from it's lust for gold and territory.
Hitler shaped a battered germany into an economic super power.
But War Never Changes.
In the 21st Century war was stil raged over the resources that could be acquired.
Only this time the spoils of war were also it's weapons. Petroleum and Uranium.
For these resources China would invade Alaska, the US would annex Canada
and the European Commonwealth would dissolve into quarreling, bickering,
nation states. Bent on controliing the last remaining resources on earth.
In 2077 the storm of world war had come again. In 2 brief hours most of the planet
was reduced to cinders and from the ashes of nuclear devastation a new civilisation
would struggle to arise.
A few were able to reach the relative safety of the large underground vaults.
Your family ws part of that group that entered Vault 13.
Imprisoned safely behind the large vault door under a mountain of stone,
a generation has lived without knowledge of the outside world.
Life in the Vault is about to change.

War. War Never Changes.
The End of the world occured pretty much as we had predicted.
Too many humans, not enough space or resources to go around.
the details are trivial and pointless, the reasons, as always, purely human ones.
The earth was nearly wiped clean of life. A great cleansing,
an atomic spark struck by human hands, quickly raged out of control.
Spears of nuclear fire rained from the skies.
Continents were swallowed in flames and fell beneath the boiling oceans.
Humanity was almost extinguished,
their spirits becoming part of the background radiation that blanketed the earth.
A quiet darkness fell across the planet,
lasting many years. Few survived the devastation.
Some had been fortunate enough to reach safety,
taking shelter in great underground vaults.
When the great darkness passed, these vaults opened,
and their inhabitants emerged to begin their lives again.
One of the northern tribes claims they are descended from one such Vault.
They hold that their founder and ancestor, one known as the 'Vault Dweller',
once saved the world from a great evil. According to their legend,
this evil arose in the far south. It corrupted all it touched,
twisting men inside, turnign them into beasts.
Only throgh the bravery of this Vault Dweller was the evil destroyed.
But in so doing he lost many of his friends and suffered greatly,
sacrificing much of himself to save the world.
When at last he returned to the home he fought so hard to protect,
he was cast out. Exiled. In confronting that which they feared,
he had become something else in their eyes...and no longer their champion.
Forsaken by his people, he strode into the wasteland. He traveled far to the north,
until he came to the great canyons.
There, he founded a small village, Arroyo, where he lived out the rest of his years.
And so, for a generation since its founding, Arroyo has lived in peace,
it's canyons sheltering it from the outside world. it is home. Your Home.
But the scars left by the war have not yet healed and the Earth has not forgotten.

War, war never changes.
It was the inevitable result of the path humanity had chosen.
Everyone who entered into the conflict expected victory. Everyone was optimistic.
But as the hostilities escalated, optimism faded and society began to collapse.
The great Vaults were built to house the wealthy, the powerful,
the influential and those deemed necessary to their survival.
Inside resources and technology were stockpiled,
a final defense against the coming holocaust.
With the past behind them and the present destroyed. They looked to the future.
The sturdy Vault 0 was to be the nucleus of the vault network housing
the greatest leaders, artists and scientists.
The inhabitants of Vault 0 were to reunite the vaults and lead the people
to a new life, a new world. But after the bombs, the world would be a harsh one.
To ensure the creation of a post-nuclear utopia, the vault dwellers would need help.
Machinery was constructed to tame a land hardened by the ravages of war,
then tempered by nuclear winter.
But plans were barely in place when the first missiles left the silos.
During the destruction, communication between the vaults ceased.
Entire vaults were lost; those that survived were on their own.
Not all vaults succumbed to the machinations of war.
On North America`s west coast, one group of military vault dwellers
emerged almost unscathed.
They surveyed the wasteland and squared their shoulders for the task ahead.
These dedicated survivors salvaged the technology from the vaults,
technology that was studied, replicated and fiercely guarded.
For they knew that while their power came from numbers,
their future lay in scientific knowledge.
In time, they formed the Brotherhood of Steel.
The brotherhood used their knowledge to drive back the atrocities of the wasteland.
Proclaiming themselves "The Technological Saviors of Mankind".
They scoured the land in search of more technology,
raiding mutant camps, bandit towns and the broken remains of other vaults.
But even they could not keep pace with the high tolls demanded by life
in the wasteland.
The Brotherhood found themselves at odds with their need for new blood versus
their code of technological secrecy.
The debate was lengthy. Finally, the elders ruled against sharing the technology
with outsiders, convinced that they would endure as they had before.
Further discussion was discouraged and the elders ordered
the minority on a mission across the wastes.
Super mutants, the foot soldiers of a conquered army had been forced into retreat
across the mountainous barrier to the east.
The Brotherhood constructed airships and dispatched the minority to track down
and asses the extent of the remaining super mutant threat.
But disaster struck while crossing the great mountains.
A great storm broke the main airship and flung it far from its course.
The mighty ship was badly damaged. The smaller sections were torn from the
main craft, never to be seen again. Many of the expedition`s leaders were lost
to the winds. The fraction of the crew that still survived, struggled to keep their
ship aloft before finally crashing on the outskirts of a once thriving metropolis.
A city once called "Chicago". Broken, scattered and scarred.
They took stock of the situation and once again squared their shoulders to the task
ahead. The Brotherhood had much to offer to the surrounding villages.
They traded advanced medicines in exchange for food and labor.
They traded protection from bandits in exchange for new recruits.
In time, their ranks began to swell.
Separated by distance and ideology from the main Brotherhood forces.
The minority was free to forge a new "Brotherhood of Steel".
One that reflected the ideals they had strived for all along.
However, one's future in the wasteland is never certain.
For an old power has awakened, also bent on making this land its own.
Life in the Brotherhood is about to change.

War. War never changes.

Since the dawn of human kind, when our ancestors first discovered the killing power of rock and bone,
blood has been spilled in the name of everything: from God to justice to simple, psychotic rage.
In the year 2077, after millennia of armed conflict, the destructive nature of man could sustain itself no longer.
The world was plunged into an abyss of nuclear fire and radiation.

But it was not, as some had predicted, the end of the world.
Instead, the apocalypse was simply the prologue to another bloody chapter of human history.
For man had succeeded in destroying the world - but war, war never changes.

In the early days, thousands were spared the horrors of the holocaust by taking refuge in enormous underground shelters,
known as vaults. But when they emerged, they had only the hell of the wastes to greet them.

War. War never changes.

When atomic fire consumed the earth, those who survived did so in great, underground vaults. When they opened,
their inhabitants set out across ruins of the old world to build new societies, establish new villages, forming tribes.

As decades passed, what had been the American southwest united beneath the flag of the New California Republic,
dedicated to old-world values of democracy and the rule of law. As the Republic grew, so did its needs.
Scouts spread east, seeking territory and wealth, in the dry and merciless expanse of the Mojave Desert.
They returned with tales of a city untouched by the warheads that had scorched the rest of the world,
and a great wall spanning the Colorado River.

The NCR mobilized its army and sent it east to occupy the Hoover Dam,
and restore it to working condition. But across the Colorado,
another society had arisen under a different flag. A vast army of slaves,
forged in the conquest of 86 tribes: Caesar's Legion.

Four years have passed since the Republic held the Dam - just barely - against the Legion's onslaught.
The Legion did not retreat. Across the river, they gathered strength. Campfires burned, training drums beat.

Through it all, the New Vegas Strip has stayed open for business under the control of its mysterious overseer,
Mr. House, and his army of rehabilitated Tribals and police robots.
"You are a courier, hired by the Mojave Express, to deliver a package to the New Vegas Strip.
What seemed like a simple delivery job has taken a turn…for the worse."