Adventure mod - 13

[SSGStryker]

This is a big request. A Thuggysmurf/Cascadia level request, so I'm curious if anyone would be interested.

 

I present this in a fanfic sort of way to garner interest. The only services I can offer are writing and voiceover work. I'm pretty okay at writing and okay at VO. Let me paste in a lengthy bit of fiction to set the stage.

 

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13

I can't remember the history of that number, why the unlucky stigma attached to it, any occult significance... any of that. The only thing that mattered to me in that regard were our original thirteen colonies. Ancient history back then, in my previous life, and an almost forgotten legend to the people of the Commonwealth. But one day, it all changed, and that number took on all kinds of significance for everyone.

Things had settled down, somewhat, after the ordeal of emerging from Vault 111, my wife's tomb, and working through the ordeal of all that horror the Institute and Kellogg had forced me to endure. Becoming acquainted with the chaotic nature of the Commonwealth, as the descendants of those who survived the War struggled to survive, fighting against a harsh environment as well as countless threats, both human and monstrous. Discovering four factions of stridently different folk, and three of them hell bent on fighting and possibly destroying the others. I worked my butt off to help establish something of a civilization again, doing every job imaginable from carpentry to nuclear engineering, and a considerable amount of diplomacy when I could. How I managed to find peace through all that still seems like something of a miracle.

In the course of it, I found a girl who caught my heart, and we decided to join lives. In this world, being a loner is almost too much to bear, and she managed to help me when the struggle of life became overwhelming. And young Shaun, the Synth experiment Father had authorized, was living with us. I've accepted him as the son I lost in this bizarre plot Fate pushed me into. I grew to truly love him as my own, and do my best to forget his true nature, though I have had to deal with it more lately as he periodically asks me when he'll grow up and be like me. I hope he can handle it when I reveal to him that he will always be my Little Guy.

Preston wanted to talk, out of the blue early one evening as it was cooling off at sunset. He came into my home in Sanctuary, restored as best as possible by Sturges, Codsworth and myself. He held out a bottle of bourbon. "Mind if I join you?"

My significant other saw this as an obvious sign of guy talk, and said, "Hello, Preston. I'll leave you two alone so you can talk without having to accommodate the woman." She collected Shaun, who had been reading through some school books I scavenged in my journeys, and wondered not too discreetly when he could listen to the grownups. He had the intellect of a teenager, college level or better, and I had a feeling I'd be asking for his advice one of these days.

He chuckled, "That's quite an understanding woman you found there."

"She tolerates us," I half-joked as I went for a glass in the cabinet. After getting Sanctuary Hills back in shape, Codsworth relished the opportunity to fall back into the routine of housekeeper, and the dishes were spotless. As he poured a drink for me, I asked him, "So what's on your mind tonight? And if this is a prelude to telling me another settlement needs our help, not tonight. I have a headache."

"I have a feeling that's a damn lie," he laughed, pouring a drink for himself. It was nicely chilled, thanks to Sturgis getting most of the refrigerators working. After a swig, he went on, "Listen... I've wanted to talk for some time now, about the past. And now, there's one more thing."

He had that look on his face that meant something big, and I raised my brow. "Don't tell me there really is a settlement that needs my help."

He had to laugh at that. "Ya know... the one thing that helped us all get our lives back together was your sense of humor, and having long conversations, you 'n me." He took a drink and twirled the glass in his fingers. "But there's one thing I never brought up because... well, you had a pretty full plate."

That was one hell of an understatement. I could hardly believe all the troubles this new world had in store for me. Just facing the world fighting to resurrect itself, after China blasted it all to ashes, was only the beginning of some very dark revelations. And there was one more thing, which left a chill in my blood.

Mama Murphy admitted to me one day that she had resorted to using chems, to use The Sight one more time. I thought she looked a little weaker than usual that day. It angered me, and I began to browbeat her over it. She just gave me that maternal smile of hers, and replied slowly, "Kid... I wouldn'ta done it, but... I had a dream one night. A bad one. I had'ta know."

"A dream? Mama..." I didn't know how to respond to that, but she had been clean as far as anyone knew for more than a year, so I held my tongue. "So, what was it? What did you see?"

She became emotional in a way that made me clench. "It's... scary... there's somethin'... in the shadows... it's important, real important... it's big, too... the biggest thing evah... distance... old history that won't die... lots'a shadows... I can tell, but... I just can't see... I - I can't..." She began to swoon, and I gathered her frail body in my arms. I was afraid the changes to her metabolism were too drastic, and we would lose her. But she recovered, and finished with a dire warning. "Kid... you gotta get ready for... the biggest fight evah. Everyone does."

I knew better than to pester her about it. She always told me everything she could, so I gave her a gentle reprimand and set her on more steady feet. But all she would promise is that she wouldn't do it again unless she thought it was absolutely necessasry. It bothered me for a while, so I traveled to all the settlements with a wagonload of gear and supplies, made sure everyone was well armed and had a good stock of ammo and curatives. Diamond City and Goodneighbor too, as well as the Brotherhood stronghold in the old Boston Airport. I asked discreetly about any news, but it was the usual muttering about Raiders, Supermutants or Gunners, or the typical monster attack. I even paid the Institute an impromptu visit to get a feel for things, but nothing inordinate was going on.

Time passed, and things continued on pretty much as usual, outside of a skirmish here and there as we pushed the threats in Boston and the surrounding areas outward. Patrols increased, and things became a bit more peaceful as another year passed. So I relaxed. You can't stay on edge all the time, or you'll burn out. But maybe I relaxed too much...

"General... Nate?"

Preston nudged me out of my ruminations. The sky was noticeably darker; it had been a long pause. "Sorry, just... reminiscing. Tell me what this is all about."

"Well..." He paused himself, which wasn't a good sign. I got up and turned on a light, another blessing made possible with some work from me. I had a feeling this was going to be one of those talks that candlelight would make more spooky. "Thanks. Anyway... this is some old stuff, from my time with the old Minutemen under Colonel Hollis, God rest his soul." He took another drink, and I did likewise, hoping this wasn't going to get too heavy. As if anything in this world wasn't heavy. "You know that along with all the usual duties of the Minutemen, we did a certain amount of intelligence gathering. Keeping track of what was going on in the region. It wasn't quite as much of a mess until after the CPG massacre, and then Quincy. But it was still a crazy patchwork of communities and threats of all kinds. Then, it got pretty bad. Along with all the other threats, we tried to keep track of the Gunners, because they had the potential to be the most trouble, a literal mercenary army.

"I was just a junior officer when I was promoted, and began working under Colonel Hollis. I tried to apprise myself of all that was going on, and struck up relations with some of the senior officers who had been there a while. One of the groups that came up in conversation every once in a while was the Enclave."

That gave me pause. If any group could be said to be something big, they were the one. "This is one bunch I don't know much about. Supposedly, they were the remnants of the U.S. government, originally created to restore America after a potential nuclear war."

"And, word is, survived underground in some way. As you know, I've been setting up a little network of spies, along with just folk who pass along anything significant. Mixed in with all the usual chatter, one day, an informant of mine reported a find they had made on the bodies of some Gunners they came across near the Glowing Sea. They look to have been killed by a couple of Deathclaws, because one of their carcasses was among them. And along with the usual finds of weapons and armor, there was a note, and a holotape." He held out a folded bloodstained piece of paper I was almost afraid to take from him. It read:

13

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From: 10/13

Message origin: One/Almighty

Security Level: Ultraviolet

To: General Hightower

Courier instructions: General rank eyes/ears ONLY. If Gen Hightower is unavailable, pass on to subsequent general in chain ONLY under penalty of death. If compromised, destroy both items IMMEDIATELY under penalty of death.

God bless the New Order of 13

I saw that Preston was holding a holotape in his hands. There was a hint of cleaned-off blood on the case. I stared at for a long, silent moment. "Did you listen to that?"

He shrugged, admitting, "I wanted to check this out with you. The one who found it disappeared. We can't locate him."

I swallowed soberly. It was beginning to feel like the old days under the Institute, when you worried that Synth spies were living among us. "Well, I guess we're under penalty of death together, then." I took it from him, hesitating just slightly, then slapped it into my Pipboy. And then, as we listened, our world changed once again, dramatically...

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So, there you have the nugget of the plot. I have definite ideas for what the plot is, but I want it to be further developed with a team. I want it to be as open ended as reasonable, involve every faction, meaning the Brotherhood/Prydwen/Maxson, Railroad and Institute are intact. The only things I don't want to get into are the whole conspiracy to start the Great War, unless you want to try tackling alien involvement, which I could be open to, if anyone is chomping at the bit to model extraterrestrial assets.

If this does get going, I can also contribute some originalish music as I have a small studio, as well as do voice overs. If anyone has resources in accessing the audio dialog, along with transcripts, I can also do a decent job editing to create new dialog.

Hopefully this draws some serious interest, with some serious talent, even as "late in the game" as it is.

[aurreth]

13 is the number of Apostles at the Last Supper, with Judas being the 13th. That's why it is considered unlucky.

[SSGStryker]

Hmm... I'm not sure which particular creed you are, but there were twelve apostles at the Last Supper. Paul - at that time, Saul - wasn't an apostle until some time after Jesus' resurrection.

[aurreth]

Roman Catholic(ish). It's twelve Apostles plus Jesus, making 13. My bad, sorry, my explanation was off. Still goes back to the 13th attendee, Judas.

 

In truth there were at least 15 attending. Jesus sent two disciples ahead to prepare the meal, and then came to it with the 12. None of the Gospels mention exact numbers, or genders for that matter. Good chance the two disciples sent ahead to prepare the meal were women, since that was part of their traditional role.

[monesq]

I like the idea. Unfortunately, I neither have the time, and most importantly, the knowledge in making such a mod. It would be interesting though.