Dissension: A tale from Fallout

[Zephyr2011]

So this is somewhat of a spin off from The West Wind's Cry (wich has been sorely neglected on my part and I'm going to finish it as I add to ths piece). Dissension is just that: one man's dissension from moral decency and relative kindness to a man consumed by vengeance, greed and hatred for the world around him. I hope you all enjoy, please let me know your thoughts.

 

-Zeph

 

 

Dissension

A tale from Fallout

 

 

CHAPTER 1 2268: A boy stood, father’s hand on his shoulder, he was a mere 16 but each day he looked more and more like a man. He had thick black hair and emerald eyes, almost serpentine in color. His skin was dark, well tanned, and he had little nicks and cuts all over his body and calluses covered his hands from hard, honest work. He had a sharp, crisp roman nose with high cheek bones and a defined jaw. His shoulders were broad but not as much as some other boys his age and he was lean despite his rather impressive strength, his muscles were clearly defined but they were not bulging and rippling, his frame stayed streamlined no matter how strong he got. Presently he wore a Brahmin-hide jacket and pants with a thick shirt and he was dusted with dirt. The pair surveyed a hard day’s work-the finishing touch of nigh on a month’s, a large new coral encompassing nearly 20 acres of Colorado land. They surveyed it from atop a hill near a quaint ranch with ancient wagon wheels and coils of rope adorning it.

 

The father looked into his sons face with his bright blue eyes, “Son, I want you to remember that although we don’t have a lot, we have enough, and that’s a lot more than most people can say. And we eat well and we got a roof over our heads and we got all this through good, honest work. We never cheated nobody, stole from nobody or wronged nobody. All a man needs is his back and the desire to make something of himself to get by in this world.” Beneath his long brown pile of hair his eyes glistened.

 

“Okay pop.” The son smirked.

 

“A little luck never hurt either.” The father winked. “Head on back inside and set out some of those good steaks and those fresh vegetables. I’m gonna stay out here awhile longer, I’ll be in in about five minutes.”

 

The son hurried into the house and got into the fridge and dug out a pair of marbled Brahmin steaks and an armful of fresh carrots, potatoes and onions and placed them on the counter. He reached up into the cupboard and drew forth several honey mesquite pods.

 

Out on the hill the father continued to admire their work and watched over the heard of Brahmin and bighorners. It was the most prosperous they’d ever been, it was a good day. Suddenly he noticed a small cloud of dust on the horizon, he wondered what it was. It approached the fence at one of the newly constructed gates at a steady pace. As it approached it was clear that it was a group of men on horseback. The father went down to the gate to greet them.

 

“Howdy!” He called cordially. “How can I help you?”

 

“Trent Lathum?” The lead rider had on a fine black hat with a Nightstalker band around it.

 

“That’s me.”

 

“I come on behalf of Mr. Chatting, a business man near Denver.”

 

“Yessir, what does Mr. Chatting want with me?” The father asked.

 

“Well, sir Mr. Chatting has wanted to purchase the land you have recently acquired for some time. He wants to create the largest Brahmin and Bighorner ranch in Colorado. Seeings as how most of your neighbors have been run off by the Nightstalkers in the area, their land has come up for grabs. Mr. Chatting has noticed that you have settled in on some of it and would like to purchase it, along with your ranch, in order to have the entire valley for his ranch. Mr. Chatting is quite prepared to offer you many caps, we believe this will be a very mutually lucrative transaction.” The rider had a deep southern voice, very elegant and charismatic.

 

“Well, please do send Mr. Chatting my apologies but this land isn’t for sale, and neither is my ranch. He’s welcome to all the other land ‘round these parts that’s been vacated but I won’t sell my ranch.”

 

“But sir, surely with your neighbors gone you worry for your own safety? Nightstalkers have killed off countless head of Brahmin from your neighbors and are what drove them off, even killed some of them.” The rider urged.

 

“Well, for one reason or another sir the Nightstalkers don’t seem to bother us much, ever since my son was born we haven’t had much trouble from ‘em couldn’t tell you what it is but they just leave us be so I don’t think we have anything to worry about on their account.” The father’s chest swelled a little when he mentioned his son, “But please do tell Mr. Chatting that he is more than welcome to all the rest of the land in the valley just not our ranch and he needn’t pay a cap for it. There’s plenty of water for my herds and however many he has.”

 

“Mr. Lathum, I don’t believe you understand. Mr. Chatting wants the valley. And all of it, and he is prepared to offer you any amount of caps to get purchase it. And he will have the valley by any means necessary.” The rider began to get annoyed.

 

“Well, I’m sorry sir but Mr. Chatting simply cannot have my ranch and he can try ‘till hell freezes over but I won’t sell it.” The father became angry, his face reddened slightly and the veins in his neck stood out a little more.

 

“Very well, Mr. Lathum, but my employer will have this land, one way or another.” The rider said in a flurry of anger as he turned about with his crew and rode off.

 

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[Keanumoreira]

Interesting.

 

Will tune in for more. :happy:

[Zephyr2011]

This is the slow bacground information part. After the first 2 o 3 chapters it get's to the meat of the story an closer to present (New Vegas) times. Edited November 27, 2010 by Zephyr Kronos

[Keanumoreira]

The minor (Saying minor since I don't know if this immediate threat is the main one) is the classic, and drawing part of any western story (In this case, reminds me of Red Dead Redemption). I'm interested at what lengths this crafty figure will go to to get these honest mens land.

[Zephyr2011]

So I haven't actually played Red Dead haha so any correlation is purey coincidence. Here's capter 2 mate. Hopefully I'll finish 3-5 tomorrow. I didn't really like the flow of this chapter but I don't really like the first either. I really dislike the whole slow background information chapters : / but one they're out of the way it will definitely be more interesting.

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CHAPTER 2-2268: The father went back to the house, visibly agitated and his son inquired as to what was wrong.

 

“What happened Dad?”

 

The father looked his son in the eye, “Cadeus, I’ve always taught you to be proud of what you make in your life, never regret anything, and to be strong. Son, always be proud of what you’ve made and what you have and never let anyone take that away from you ‘cause it’s all we got in this world.” A tear welled up in his eye again…

 

 

 

They ate in silence, it was a good hearty meal, one they’d have laughed and joked through had there been normal circumstances. Cadeus still had no idea what had happened, just that his father was angry and on edge. His father was so bother he didn’t even have his customary dose of alcohol with dinner, usually it was a glass of wine or a shot of whiskey but tonight he was dead-straight sober. After their meal they both washed dishes then the father grabbed his dusty old gun. It was lever action, well made, held about a dozen rounds and used the often difficult to find 45-70 gov’t ammunition. He usually favored an old western style repeater that held 7 rounds and had an action that would glide like lightning, but he wanted something with real power to it. Something for humans and bigger beasts than Molerats and sick livestock. The father sat out on the porch through sunset and until nearly midnight when his son was asleep. He sat in a rocking chair watching the horizon in the direction that the riders came and left from…

 

 

Two days later the boy had been tending to his usual chore of checking the fences and counting heads of Brahmin and Bighorner when he discovered three Brahmin and two Bighorners were missing. Puzzled he checked all over the pasture and still couldn’t find them, he counted, recounted then recounted again but still came up missing three Brahmin and two Bighorners. A creek ran through the pasture and the livestock frequented it to drink occasionally, younger ones would slip out under the fences at either end of the creek. Cadeus figured that this was the likely cause of their absence and followed the creek north. After nearly a quarter of a mile he noticed a horrendous stench. He drew his shirt up to cover his nose to attempt to ward off the putrid stench but with minimal success. As he rounded a bend he ripped off his hat and stamped it into the ground and swore loudly up and down.

 

There were the Brahmin and Bighorners. Pumped full of bullets with their tongues lolling out of their mouths and flies all over their rotting carcasses. Slight tinges of deep purple spotted around the wounds. Poison no doubt…

 

Cadeus ran quickly back to his father and told him what he’d discovered. His father swore up and down like his son and then had his son assist him in herding the livestock up closer to the ranch. It was a night almost as tense as the one the riders came.

 

 

The next morning Trent stood watching the herds with the barrel of his gun in his hands and the butt on his boot. The gun didn’t leave his sight or his hands all day.

 

Over the course of a week nearly a fourth of the heard disappeared, Cadeus found each and every one of them shot full of holes like the first five and swore louder every time. It was on this day that he noticed a discrepancy in the morning count compared to the afternoon one. He noticed that four of their biggest bull Brahmin were gone. He panicked then informed his father of the incident.

 

“They’ve gone far enough dammit!” He yelled then ran into the other room. He handed Cadeus his old gun and grabbed his .44 magnum. “Take this, I’ve taught you how to shoot, load and clean it. Find those Brahmin and if you see the bastards that have damned us give ‘em hell. I gotta stick around ‘ere in case they come back for more.” The fire in his father’s eyes frightened Cadeus slightly but also steeled his resolve and he set forth like the reaper to claim his harvest. The massive tracks left by the bulls weren’t difficult to pick out and Cadeus followed the hoof prints for almost a mile to the northwest where he finally found the Brahmin. Like the others they had been shot to pieces and purple tinged their wounds. The flies hadn’t even gathered yet and the bodies were still average temperature, not yet baked by the beating sun. Cadeus noticed four sets of prints distinctly equestrian. He swore and sprinted back towards the house…

[Keanumoreira]

I sense a loss coming up. :unsure: