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baronobexi-blog · 2 years ago

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On The Radar -- Guns Blazing by Basheer Ghouse

Game Title: Guns Blazing

Genre(s): Tactical/Alt-history TTRPG

System: Ahadi (inspired by Genesys, Storyteller, Blades in the Dark, and wargaming)

Format: PDF/Hardcover

Campaign Start: March 28th, 2023

Campaign End: April 27, 2023

Campaign Goal: $10,000 (Current Pledge Amount: $18, 001)

Campaign Team Size: 26 (Note: Certain parts of this post will occasionally be updated to reflect the progress of Guns Blazing such as the pledge amount, met stretch goals, or the addition of new stretch goals. So, if you’re interested with the campaign then please make sure to check back.) --- --- --- Game Info: So, what exactly is Guns Blazing about? – Guns Blazing is a tactical, alt-history TTRPG that takes place in an alternate 1920’s of Jinn, diesel powered mechs, and anti-colonial revolution. In the world of Guns Blazing, Europe’s once powerful hold on lands not their own are now waning, declining colonial empires on the brink of collapse. The twilight for European empire has come, it refuses to listen. Challenged by revolutionaries, colonial subjects seeking freedom, or fledgling ideologies wishing to remake the world. Like a dying beast holding stubbornly to its final breath. The old order of Europe refuses to acknowledge its colonial deathbed even if it ends in blood and fire for all. Villages are burned. Ancestral homelands are broken. Families are torn apart by unflinching, unfeeling colonial bureaucracy. This is an old order that does not care about people. It does not care if innocents are harmed by malice or incompetence. It does not care if cultures are destroyed, distorted, or hollowed out. You are either subject, victim, or threat to It. Yet there are even worse things than man’s cruelty. The fungal horrors that are the Iram march side by side with the colonial garrisons. It's a simple relationship. The Iram are fed those that the empires do not care for, the empires receive loyal beasts along with grand treasures unimaginable. Then there are the Ma’ Jooj. Carrion prophets of the industrial charnel house that is the modern battlefield. The Ma’ Jooj take the dead and turn them into reanimated cannon fodder known as the Resitched. Finally, there are the Atom Unborn. They pursue the distant, nascent dream that is nuclear power. And it is a dream pursued even if it ends with the world burning in nuclear fire. It is a dark time to live in. It is a time where the old and new ways clash with each other. It is a time where the old order is on its deathbed. It is a time where monsters, whether they be colonial administrator or fungal horror, walk the world. Yet it also is a time of heroes. The rallying cry of rebellion, revolution, and liberation is on the air. No longer. No longer will the horrors of the old order be allowed to fester unchecked. No longer will homes burn. No longer will stolen land be occupied. The world is entering into a twilight. It may either end in a twilight of hope or a twilight of despair. It is up to you and countless others to decide how this twilight finally ends. Who am I playing as? – You take on the role of an international volunteer in Guns Blazing. There are six playbooks for the game that can offer you a variety of ways to shape your volunteer along with how you approach the game in combat and in narrative. And we’re able to see what four of those playbooks look like in the quickstart preview. With their names being: Butcher, Vanguard, Hunter, and Artillery. Who am I fighting? – As an international volunteer in the struggle against Europe’s waning but still powerful colonial empires. Your enemies will range from the mundane to the eldritch. You will resist the colonial garrisons of the European empires. You will clash with the fungal horrors that are the Iram. You will face the carrion prophets that are the Ma’ Jooj and their reanimated Resitched soldiers. You will fight with the nuclear dreamers that are the Atom Unborn. Is there a preview of the game in play? – Yes! The campaign page for Guns Blazing helpfully offers a link to a two shot actual play that shows what the game is like in play along with an introduction to one of its scenarios. --- --- ---

--- --- --- Campaign Info: What’s the campaign funding? – The campaign for Guns Blazing is funding the following: art, layout, editing, and printing costs. Additionally, the funding will also ensure that everyone involved is paid at fair rates. Are there shipping costs? – Yes, there are shipping costs for Guns Blazing. They are the following: US $13, US Non-Continental $30, Canada $23, United Kingdom $25, European Union $34, Australia $41, Rest of World $54. However, the campaign page does say these shipping costs are estimates for a single hardcover. And also says that means to reduce international shipping costs are currently being looked into. When will the game come out? – April 2024. --- --- --- --- --- --- Pledge Info: * Financial Hardship PDF ($10) – Pledgers at this level get a discounted copy of the core book PDF. However, please only pledge at this level if you need the discount due to financial hardship. (28 of 50 left) * Core PDF ($25) – Pledgers at this level get a core book PDF copy along with access to playtesting copies. * Hardcover ($50) – Pledgers at this level get both a 6″ x 9″ hardcover and PDF core book copy along with a choice of starter scenario. * Complete Edition ($65) – Pledgers at this level get both hardcover, PDF, all three starter scenarios, and STL files. * Retailer Bundle ($100) – Pledgers at this level, whether for retail or just wanting to introduce the game to their friend group, get five hardcover copies of Guns Blazing at a very deep discount. However, this pledge level does not come with any additional stretch goals or PDFs. It is primarily intended for retailers and will result in higher shipping fees compared to a single copy. * Volunteer Edition ($200) – Pledgers at this level get the hardcover, PDF, all three starter scenarios, and the opportunity to create a character who will be featured in the game art of Guns Blazing. (All gone.) * Hosti Humani Generis Edition ($250) – Pledgers at this level get the hardcover, PDF, all three starter scenarios, and the opportunity to create either a foe or vehicle. This foe/vehicle will have rules, art, and writeup. (All gone.) * Band of Misfits Edition ($350) – Pledgers at this level get the hardcover, PDF, all three starter scenarios, and the opportunity to create an organization/faction. This organization/faction will get art, a logo, and writeup. (All gone). --- --- --- --- --- --- Stretch Goals: * VTT (Virtual Tabletop) Integration ($17,500) – This will result in Guns Blazing having full VTT integration for all its starter scenarios. VTT integration will consist of the following: maps, tokens, and free VTT copies that have the appropriate tiers and add-ons. * Expanded Core Book ($25,000) – This will expand the budget for art, writing, layout, and editing. Additionally, this will also provide more funding to expand the role of guest writers. * Expanded Starter Scenarios ($30,000) – The starter scenarios will receive a core book treatment. This means that the starter scenarios will get an expanded budget for art, writing, layout, and editing. * Guest Writer Program ($35,000) – This will allow the campaign to bring on more writers for the project. And every additional $5,000 dollars over the $35K goal will result in even more writers being hired. --- --- --- --- --- --- Add-ons: * Starter Scenarios ($10 each/$25 pack) – The starter scenarios PDF’s for Guns Blazing can be added to a pledge for $10 each or can be bundled together as a $25 pack. * Stream Kit ($10) – This is a stream kit that has the following: pre-arranged layouts for 3-6 players, a GM, map, caption box, be right back screens, and materials to create your own stream kit. The stream kit was created by Brandy Rose (Cutestpatoot Games) * Guns Blazing: The Wargame ($15) – A wargame set within the setting of Guns Blazing. Guns Blazing: The Wargame makes use of the Riposte! System by Erika Chappell (Flying Circus, Blackout, The Flesh Is Weak). This add-on adds the following material to a pledge: basic rules PDF and army lists for the Republic of Mysore and the British Empire. * Core Rules PDF ($25) – Adds another core rules PDF to a pledge. * Additional Hardcover ($45) – An extra copy of the hardcover at retail price added to a pledge. This add-on however will add additional shipping costs to a pledge. --- --- ---

#Indie TTRPG #tabletop games #alternate history #diselpunk #BaronObexiWrites

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gizzardscrolls · 2 years ago

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God of Machines: Wayland's journal

Chapter 1: Butterfly's Dream

“Wayland, wake the fuck up! It’s past dawn!”

The booming voice of my father Boromir blew through the once-silent house,

“Twenty-four, and still sleeping through the day?”

I tried to think of something to say against him, but I finished my hunt last week. I needed to get another request, or worse, become a gunsmith like him.

I retorted, “How many men have you had to pull out of the guts of beasts?”

He said “You chose to be a hunter! I chose to be a gunsmith so I don't have to fight! You could have been a farmer…”

“Then I wouldn’t have to worry,” He mumbled.

I couldn’t argue with that, “but fighting’s all I’m good at pops, ‘sides… you know why I do this.”

I didn't hear what he said if he said anything at all. I want to get my own place, but moving into a city and dealing with the risk of cult attacks or getting shot in an alley?

Fuck that.

Maybe I could get some guys and build my own house in the village. The beasts are better than cults any day anyways. That’d have to wait until after my next few jobs at the very least.

Finally awake enough to get out of bed, I slide forward and shamble my way to the wardrobe having yet to recover from last week's stint of pulling some Carn soldiers' tags out of the mouth of a venir. I start by putting on the usual tan linen undershirt, pants, and thick leather hiking boots, sighing as yet another week of fighting demons and beasts alike all without properly healing from the last fight.

The new rune carved into my back just finished healing, the scars of magic being put into a human body are a relatively cheap price to pay for the power they provide.

“How unfortunate that I couldn't be a caster," I think to myself as I walk over to the mirror.

As I sit in the worn chair of my mother's old vanity, the same black hair and bright red eyes she once held are looking back at me now, features of the eastern countries that sealed off their ports and borders over a century ago... These are a rare sight to see on this side of the ocean. My mother was the only person of Eastern heritage I have seen. I tie my long hair in two sections at the base of my head with the tiny gold hair clips my mother left for me upon her death. A constant reminder that death does catch up to all.

Yet another sigh later, and I'm putting on my holsters, one on the back of my waist for a dagger and one on the right side for my handgun. A custom-made .45 by my father, I bring with me two mags, the chances of being attacked in the village are low, but never zero.

Stepping out of the longhouse I'm greeted with the smell of sulfur and molten steel, thanks to my father being a gunsmith even in winter it wasn't that cold. It appears he was already working on a gun no later than ten in the morning, I guess work never ends for some.

“Father, I'm going off to the post office!” I shouted. He merely grunted and went back to hammering.

After a week there was sure to be an emergency request, if not I could always go to the city, it's not a long drive. A few hours in the old engine wouldn’t be much trouble considering I have to pick the new one up anyway. The post office was run by a nice old lady.

“Hello Wayland, it's always nice to see a young man still in the village.” Mrs. Paige said, a sweet older widower with ash gray hair and dark skin.

Her son is what could be considered my boss, Eddie Paige, a pain in my ass with the amount of work he gives me. Being the busiest bee is not a good thing in this line of work. Some days I think that ball bastard wants me dead, but he’s always nice so counts for something right?

“Hello Mrs. Paige, before you ask, your son is doing fine, even if he does bust my ass at work.”

She smiled “Oh you know my boy, Eddie, always took a shine to you as if you were his brother. I wouldn’t mind having a kid like you”.

Chuckling, I replied, “Tell that to him next time I end up with a broken arm, any letters for me?”

“Yes, just one second.”

She rummaged around through the post boxes, most were empty at this point as people kept moving from here to Ullya or a Carn city.

“you know Wayland, I heard something interesting back when the trains were still around there were creatures called deers, like venir but less vicious, their horns weren't straight or too sharp, their mouths didn't open like a hound’s, here’s your mail”.

As I look through the letters I don’t see an emergency request, looks like Eddie actually does want to give me a break.

“Mrs. Paige, you really believe that?”

She looked a little sad. “Honey, I just want to believe at one point this world actually wanted us human’s around.”

She paused for a moment “You make sure Eddie is eating well, okay?”

“Yeah Mrs Paige, I got it. I gotta go in today anyway.”

She told me to take care and go on with my day. I returned home to finish getting set up for a trip to the city. Going outside the small village and its log walls was always a gamble if a beast was close enough to the wall to be my problem. At home my father was still hammering away at some custom order, the factories' large-scale productions in recent years made guns and bullets easier to obtain, but there was something better about the private from-scratch craftsmanship, perhaps it's because the gun is truly meant for you.

“Wayland, I took a look at your armor, you should get to an armorsmith sooner than later, it's starting to rust. I swear you don't know the first fucking thing about metal”

Yet another sigh from me, his worry was admirable for a grown man who kills for a living.

“Yeah yeah, it's just the bracers, nothing to worry about.”

This made the old man a bit upset, to say the least.

“Nothing to worry about? Boy, that's how you lose an arm. You should know better than me how much armor you need, and if you didn't need it to be in good shape you wouldn’t have bracers.”

It seems everyone is right but me with how little I can say against them, perhaps it's because it’s my hometown. I entered the longhouse barely big enough for 2, let alone the 4 that once lived here. Leaning out the door I yell so he can hear me over the hammering and roaring engine that is his forge.

“How come you never worry about Jacob this much?!”

“That’s because he takes after me, boy! Smart enough to be a merchant and not dumb enough to put his life on the line for a few coins! His job doesn't require him to stick his hand in the mouth of a howler!”

Before Jacob was a merchant he was just the guard for a caravan who worked his way up, good at fighting and good with numbers, but I'd still beat him to the ground in any fight. I walked back to my wardrobe, put on my padded leather on top of my undershirt, then rest the chainmail on top of that. I had been warned the new rune on my back was experimental strength magic, I don't know what’s so experimental but this armor doesn't feel nearly as heavy as normal. On top of all that I put on my kevlar vest, bullets don't get stopped by chainmail after all, then slip my chest rig atop to carry the many mags for my three carrying weapons.

The pistol my father made has a fairly long slide and square profile, a slightly angled grip, glow in the dark sights and the rather large mags give this black handgun an imposing profile to the average bandit in our little ‘negotiations’. On the other side of the coin the average beast doesn't care about looks and most demons won't be taken down by a smaller cartridge. A modded factory-produced lynx, made primarily for the Empire of Carn’s soldiers, a sleek, fully automatic firearm that feeds from a helical mag with a large capacity. It had a thumbhole stock I removed and replaced with a more conventional one but not the grips, so they’re still curved. Firing a high penetration round it’s perfect for dealing with many humans at once. The last of my weapons is Thunder, it’s based on a widely available blueprint so my father recreated and improved this one for me when I was first starting out as a hunter. Almost 4 feet long and weighing 20 pounds, this thing puts demons and beasts down alike, it’s 20 round mags angle downward at the bottom, and this thing isn’t pretty. A large chunk of steel and wood with a sound like actual thunder, and can shoot through 3 or 4 men.

I put on my helmet. It's got one large horizontal slit where my eyes are, the rest of my face is covered though, leaving just the bright red of my eye and the very top of the bridge of my nose. On the one hand, my eyes are less protected, on the other what’s the point of having eyes if you can't see? I put on my unremarkable knee and elbow pads, you would be surprised by the amount of things I have elbowed that make those worthwhile. As I put on my shin guards and bracers I take a look at the left one, deciding that yeah the old man’s right, this thing’s not worth very much right now. It's got chunks missing and bad rusting, probably because it's the first thing I offer to shove into the mouth of whatever the hell is trying to eat me.

The last piece is surprisingly important: a rather large and thick black cloak made from linen and cotton, it’s one large piece of keeping you warm and hiding you from the men and monsters that lurk in the forest. No grenades or potions left, but it doesn't matter, after all, I'm heading to Ullya, one of the few non-Carn cities that actually have civil protection that isn't secret police breaking and gunning you down.

Grabbing my keys and emergency bag I head out the door, Father is still working as usual. I make my way to the first gate. The way my hometown Argarth is set up, we have a normal center where we all live, it's the heart of the village. Surrounded by a log wall that’ll keep most things out. Farmsteads have the best fencing they can but are usually relegated near the coast to keep the costs of making full surrounding walls down since nothing too bad is in the water. Livestock farmers are marginally luckier as they usually live in the center, there are two entrances, one that leads to the cold northern seaport, and one that leads to a smaller wall that covers a decent portion of the wall with its second half, it even has an enclosed ceiling, how nice. This is the garage where most vehicles reside.

The guard at the gate recognizes me and tells me to stay safe as he opens the first gate,. I walk up to my rusted-up shitbox, or Cobblepot as I call it, (because it’s cobbled together out of metal barely better than what you’d find a pot made of), but it does get me from place to place. The lightweight metal lets the powerful engine in this thing loose. My car is rounder than most. Instead of the usual rectangular shape with sharp angles throughout the entire thing, my car has a rounded pipe frame at the top that continues to the back exposed engine. Except for the side doors, the front trunk, and the windshield, the frame of this piece of crap is simply exposed to the elements.

Though it’s a shitbox through and through, it does have two seats so I can do some escort missions. I mostly ride solo, however, I think it might be the eyes that scare people off, or maybe the fact I'm always wearing a helmet. I get it, I wouldn't trust a guy with no face either. I put Thunder and the emergency bag in the front trunk next to the airbow and gas can. Grabbing the top bar and climbing through the window I get in the front seat, the passenger seat is a normal door but with the number of gunshots that go through the driver's window and door, it was smarter to make it one piece of strong metal and not even bother with the glass. I turn the key the first time. Absolutely nothing. I turn it a second time and the engine growls. The third time it finally kicks off.

“Sorry old gal, you’ll get a new engine soon I promise.”

The guard opened up the final gate, I make my way down the dirt path. We were going to get gravel before the factories started offering good pay and ‘safer’ working conditions. Now the town sits still, not quite a ghost town, but it’s not quite alive. A few too many monster attacks and people would rather choke to death on the smog of the city. A few miles out of Argarth, I look at my fuel gauge.

Fuck.

The rune carving hurt so bad I forgot to get gas on my way out. Beyond a rookie mistake, ten taels if you guessed what comes next, I sigh. Luckily I'm about to pass by a hunting trailer and no one uses this road. I pull over, hiding the car with tree branches, and in a hard-to-see spot, I grab the emergency bag, air bow, bolts, and gas can. It's time to hunt.

I make my way down the trail, although it’s quiet it's always foreboding. No matter how long I've been in these woods, it never gets any more comfortable. The constant fear of something coming to get you only gets worse when your job makes you encounter worse and worse monsters. There are enough trees to block out the sun almost as if it was night.

I take a look at the airbow, the giant tank full of air on the left side, the monstrous piece of steel and iron with a wind magic crystal ensures the tank is always full and always silent. The grip on the right side has a button on the top that fires the bolt, pulling the grip towards my chest to prepare the mechanism for firing. I pull out a bolt from the quiver and nest it securely in the opening, luckily or rather unluckily Argarth is next to a large population of venir. I walk for a while before I finally find the tracks, with footsteps bigger than my head. I know an alpha venir is nearby.

Pulling out the jerky I have in my bag, being a carnivore, venir are always looking for meat, and the easier the hunt the more likely it is to go for it, it’s why they attack humans so often. I wait and wait, and wait. A few hours pass and finally, I see it, nearly 7 feet tall, with a skull that looks nearly skinless, and 4 horns sharper than swords that point forward. It goes in for a bite. Shouldering the large air bow as best as I can, I take aim, it looks directly up and at me, and as its cat-like yellow eyes pierce my soul I press the fire button without a second thought knowing damn well this thing’s going straight at me. The airbow releases with a sound like a missile flying overhead, the airbow continues its hissing for merely a moment but it feels like forever.

Since it decided to look at me instead of going for the jerky I wasn't able to hit its head. the arrow Instead went through the big bastard's shoulder and through the large oak tree behind it. As the hissing of the airbow was finishing up, the venir took a deep breath in, I quickly rack back the air bow and put another bolt in as fast as I can. The Alpha venir screams like a dying child, it rushes in to attack as best as it can, thankfully missing one of its shoulders I narrowly jump out of the way, and with a thud I land on my back, the quiver of bolts and the bag digging into my back through the armor that split second of discomfort reminds me that I'm alive, I half-ass aim the airbow as the venir’s horns got stuck in the oak behind where I was standing, and fire another shot, this one pierce’s the chest probably hitting a vital organ as it starts moving and kicking every last muscle in an effort to get loose. I rack another shot, and this time finally hit my target, blasting through the skull and brains of the sorry creature.

I hurry as best as I can to get up and grab the rope and the bowl from my emergency bag to get as much as I can. tying one end of the rope to the legs of the no longer struggling alpha venir, I tie the other end to the bolt I loaded in the air gun, firing high into the tree the venir was lodged in, I take out the dagger on my waist and get to bloodletting. Unlike the normal venir, the alpha venir’s blood is straight gasoline, while factories can process oil, natural gasoline is good for emergencies even if using a gun would cause it to blow up.

Thankfully the meat of an alpha venir and other creatures with the same gas for blood is inedible, to all creatures. So I don't have to worry too much about another venir or a howler to get me as I wait for the gas to finish filling the bowl to funnel into the gas can. After about 3 hours I get the last of the gas out of the venir into the 5-gallon can, this is enough to get me to the nearest carn checkpoint 130 miles out. I start my way out of the forest I came in from, the sun had already set, it's pitch black. I turn on the light mounted to my chest carrier, an unfortunate beacon to whatever the hell is lurking, but better than being lost here all night without shelter, as I turn on the unnatural light, behind a tree I see a tall shadow figure that the light goes through, fuck. Fuck. Demons are out. I fire a bolt at it, it darts behind a tree almost faster than I can see.

I hear a weird noise, that sounds like laughing, I hear scuttling and shifting of leaves branches whatever else is on the ground right now all around me. I start sprinting. Tallmen can only be hurt by magic weapons, and if you recall I never once mentioned fucking having one. The cost of a new airbow greatly outweighs my desire to rip the wind crystal from it to use on the Tallman. I decided to use the strongest solo hunter technique I know, I run as fast as I can. I need to get to a more open area to try anything against it, running won't let me survive but it does buy me some time. I still hear its odd cackle and the kicking up of leaves, nearly through the most dense part of the forest. I can see my car all the way at the end. Just a little farther and then the blurry shape of its featureless face peeks out through the trees next to my car. It grabs some of the branches near the car and throws them at me, unable to stop my momentum and dodge properly, I try to lean back and lose my footing. Another laugh from this fucking thing, and as I'm almost on my feet, a tree branch crashes into me with the force of an avalanche. I go flying through the air and slam into an oak tree, what hurts worse than getting thrown into something is the fall, a heavy thud as my large mass of iron and steel hit the ground, my vision is blurry I struggle to move, I have fractured ribs and most likely some hairline fractures in my legs. I see it stand over me. The fresh strength rune in my back starts burning as the use of my limbs returns, berserk as the shaman called it. Now close enough to use the magic wind and with no other option, I use my right arm to lift and aim the large air bow. I press the launch button, and the loud hiss of the air bow is drowned out by the screech the Tallman let out. It looks like someone took a bite out of its shadowed body. It quickly brings its arm down and blows a hole through the air tank and shatters the crystal into smaller bits. It clearly didn’t think about the consequences of doing so, as now its hand was gone too. I get up as fast as possible, it’s wailing sounding like a strange mix of a dying child and a kicked dog, I have a few seconds before it refocuses on me. I grab the shards of the magic crystal a faint draft can be felt from the leaking magic, the only idea I can manage to think of in the little time I have, I plunge the shard’s into the palm of my left hand, I can only manage a few in the right hand due to the restriction having long shards in my left. The feeling in my body is numb, I assume because of the berserk rune I close my hands into fists as best as I can. I hear the cracking of the shards and the tearing of the flesh in my palm but that’s much better than the Tallman ripping my body in two. I punch at its leg with my right hand. At first, my finger goes through but the crystal shards pull at the demon’s shadowy leg. It stumbles down onto the ground

“Aw, what’s wrong the little baby can't handle it?” I shout at the demon, it no longer screamed in pain, but instead in anger.

It attempts to strike me with its right arm, the severed one, I counter back by using the back of my palm to stab into its forearm, the wind crystal thankfully throwing its limb back immediately allows me to easily recover without having to rip my hand’s back out. Its left arm and large clawed hand come at my head, and it starts crushing my helmet, The flesh in my palm and fingers tearing more as I open my hand’s again I grab the arm, my fingers and hands slipping into its shadow, the magic crystals stab into its arm I start pulling with all the force I can muster. Its scream sounds like a man burning alive as I start to pull its arm from where the socket would be on a human, I can hear the wind from the crystal stop howling as the magic dissipates the crystal shrinks I pull even harder than before and, it sounds like velcro ripping as I pull off the Tallman’s arm. The shadow figure starts to fade as if it was never there, all that’s left behind is a shadow crystal. My hand is full of holes from where the crystals punctured. I can feel the strength from the rune going away, I grab the emergency bag torn from the sliding down the tree, grabbing the health potion with my right hand using only my fingers as the palm is thoroughly destroyed. I chug it down. It tastes foul as if it were mold, a single potion costing 4 silver taels the average price of one request from the hunter’s guild, and enough to feed one for a month, it will fully heal any injury over time, depending on the severity it can take a week, what it doesn’t stop is blood loss however. With the last of my strength, I bandage my hands as best as I can, the strength from the berserk is gone I can tell I have a concussion, and too many injuries to count. I pass out.

I briefly woke up to two men dragging me, “oh shit he’s alive” I heard from one of them, the other said probably the worst thing you can hear when being dragged half-conscious.

“Good, put him with the others, maybe the camp will reach its quota.”

They throw me into the back of a transport truck and before I pass out I see some other’s get a winch out and secure my car to the back of it. I get a good look at my savior's before I pass out, Reavers.

“Fuck,” I manage to mutter before slipping back into my dreams.

#creative writing #long post #long reads #diselpunk #fantasy #gore trigger warning #dark fantasy #webnovel

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