Fallout Nukaloha: Wish you were here.
Welcome to Fallout Nukaloha! A Fallout Roleplaying forum set on the Post-Apocalyptic Hawaii. Register and Log-In to see all the features and start playing.


Fallout Roleplaying Forum set 250 years after the Great-War on the Post-Apocalyptic Hawaii. Will you be able to survive and endure the Hawaiian Wasteland?
 
HomeCalendarFAQSearchMemberlistUsergroupsRegisterLog in

Share | 
 

 Drums of the Dead

Go down 
AuthorMessage
Overseer
Admin
avatar

Posts : 519
Join date : 2017-08-17

PostSubject: Drums of the Dead   Sun Mar 25 2018, 23:50

It always starts with Sha-Manos...

Hundreds of Sha-Manos.

Maybe Thousands.

And then there are the Drums.

POOM POOM.

The steady rythmic beating of drums that come from nowhere and everywhere all at once. As always covering your ears does little to stop it for the drums beat within their own heads. Are these drums, some wonder, or is it the sound of their own racing hearts?

POOM POOM.

The same thing happens again, and again. First the sha-manos, then the drums, finally some goes crazy and psychotic, attacking anyone in a blind rage before jumping onto the infested waters only to be killed and devoured shortly after.

The Sons of Kanaloa have opened a new maritime trade route, these waters were avoided by fishermen as if they were infested but after investigating the merchantile group not only found them to be mildy safe but also less irradiated than the rest, making it a perfect fishing ground and travelling route. Yet... there was also something else, for some strange reason shortly after reaching these waters some sailors and workers enter into strange and unexplainable chapters of madness that are always fatal.

Officially speaking the Sons don't believe in the supernatural and assure that all these incidents have been due to heatstrokes, unoficially they are worried that there might be some hidden power behind these murder suicides. You are one of the many workers that have been contacted to pose as sailors and investigate what is going on. They offer small rewards like food and up to 25 caps for anyone who travels with them and gives them any clue of the reasoning behind everything but the great catch is solving the problem for good, doing so will net the people who do it 4000 caps upfront. Many people have joined to work with them, mostly lowlifes that plan to travel and then come up with something crazy yet beliable enough to be paid and if they are lucky perhaps solving the mistery and becoming rich.

Your reasons are your own, but you have accepted their offer.

"Nice to meet you, Mister Marsh." Says the captain of the Polaris as you enter onto the ship.
Back to top Go down
View user profile http://fallout-nukaloha.forumotion.com
David Marsh

avatar

Posts : 6
Join date : 2018-03-04

Character Screen
Level: 1
Health Points:
125/125  (125/125)
Experience:
0/0  (0/0)

PostSubject: Re: Drums of the Dead   Mon Mar 26 2018, 01:43

"Likewise, oh and uh, just Marsh is fine Cap."

Working for the Kanaloa is one of the smartest things a waster can do. Marsh was no stranger to the Sons, he had done quite a lot of contract work for them in the past. Fixing up vehicles or weaponry was mainly what he was good for, and with the potential dangers this expedition held it's a good idea to have a skilled machenist on board. The peculiar man mostly kept to himself while boarding, taking a seat by the pilot house before the voyaged embarked. Oddly enough, as he sat some of the lights on the control console flicker for a moment. Nothing broke, not like they used to, but it was noticable to anyone checking the systems. Looking over the console, marsh could see it was fairly well maintained by whoever keeps this tub afloat. Maybe he could swap pointers with them sometime.

While the Sons on board didnt bat an eye at Marsh, he would catch one of the wasters staring every now and again. Sometimes it was out of curiosity, sometimes disgust. At least he's used to it by now, David spent his entire life nearly trampled underfoot because of his mutation. The Kanaloa, though, they've never really cared about the fact he's a psyker. They always pay him the same amount as any other merc they use for maintenance. It's not as if they're good people per say, they sell to raiders and High Evolutionary after all, but they at least wont shoot on sight like some groups. Skilled machanists are few and far between out in the wasteland, and the Kanaloa take any help they can get for as cheap as they can get it. David was one Psyker happy to be paid for a little trip and maybe some repairs.

I mean, it's not like there's anything actually evil about the ocean. Aside from the radiation. And the sharks. And pirates. Or those merghouls. Okay maybe sailing into notorious waters was a bad idea.
Back to top Go down
View user profile
Overseer
Admin
avatar

Posts : 519
Join date : 2017-08-17

PostSubject: Re: Drums of the Dead   Wed Mar 28 2018, 00:30

The travellers of the ship were pretty diverse, the Sons of Kanaloa only cared for the caps and did not mind your skin or race as long as you were useful for their gain. While most of the ship was Human there were several Psykers, Ghouls, Robots and Super-Mutants along the ship crew. The workers couldn't be hateful during work hours because any fight would end with all the involved people severaly punished, regardless of their race, but the free time was different. The Polaris wasn't segregated but most quarters were separated by race and the mess hall had timetables to make the different races eat at different turns, it wasn't racism, just a way to avoid them from interacting during their free time. The Sons knew that there was racial tension between the different people and that it was impossible to eliminate it, so they attempted to diminish as best as they could.

"A girl called Omatta has been assigned to be your roomate." Says the captain while looking at some notes where he had all the information about the different occupants.

"She's a psychic, has pure blank white eyes... it's impossible to say where she's looking at but at the same time you can tell when she's looking at you." He mentions with a shudder.

"Your room is the 24 on the first floor. Breakfast for psykers are at 6:30, Lunch at 13:30 and Dinner at 20:30, you will have 30 minutes during each of these periods to eat."

With that said he went to inform other people and passing the word before going to the ship's command center. Everybody was chittating, talking about the journey and exchanging inane conversations or odd experiences, a loud horn blasted over everybody and then a great rumble invaded all the ship. A few seconds of silence were nothing happened and then with an abrupt acelleration the ship started moving. Despite the age of the old cargo ship and the layers of rust and mutant mollusks that had gotten into its surface it was obvious that the heart and guts of the ship were in perfect condition. With a heavy trail of diesel smoke coming out of its gigant exhausts the ship left the coast.

"Look!" Said a Ghoul looking from the board and pointing down.

Everybody except the regular and experienced workers of the ship went to see what was it. Around the ship there was a dark cloud of something weird moving, strange rushing waters and bubbles coming from the sides. At first it was only one but then more and more started to pop out, thousands of Sha-Mano fins, the sharks were surrounding the ship in such a density that their bodies were blacking the sea around.

"We are cursed! Turn the ship I want to go out!" Said a twichy human boy, no more than eleven years old.

Several heavy steps came from behind and a powerful and imposing bionic arm grabbed the boy by the neck, then hanged it overboard, with the sharks only a few feet under him.

"You all knew what was involved when signing your contract, not reading it or being iliterate does not void it. Wanting to leave the ship counts as purporsely breaking the contract and hence the Sons of Kanaloa cease to be responsible from your protection and can kick you out at any time and by any mean. I repeat boy, do you really want to go out? Right here right now?"

The boy, with his face already red and starting to adquire a blue hue from the lack of oxygen desperately shook his head and was then thrown onto the deck were it started coughing blood and gasping for air.

"Stop wasting time, you all now where are your rooms. In there you will find your occupation."

"Occupation? I came here to investigate about some strange vodoo mumbo jumbo." Yelled one from behind.

"Once more, read the contracts you have signed, you have been contracted as workers for the sons, investigating is secondary. We will not give a free journey to some wasters like you in exchange of nothing. If you don't like it, you know what we will do." Says pointing at the sha-manos.

People were slighty hesitant at first but then everybody saw that there was no escape and went towards their quarters while murmuring about their bad luck and other useless topics.

"Don't worry mate, the ship is not haunted, I can feel it." Said a voice from behind. "It's the sha-manos the ones who are fucking with the people."

A lithe and pale girl appeared from behind, judging from her white eyes she had to be Omatta, there were several scars on her face and body and strange black marks that looked biological in nature, probably a mutation. She wore ragged medical scrubs and there were several injection marks around her neck and elbows, she was either a skilled doctor or a junkie, possibly both.

"Damm...and I thought I was unlucky." She said once she saw your fish like mutations.
Back to top Go down
View user profile http://fallout-nukaloha.forumotion.com
David Marsh

avatar

Posts : 6
Join date : 2018-03-04

Character Screen
Level: 1
Health Points:
125/125  (125/125)
Experience:
0/0  (0/0)

PostSubject: Re: Drums of the Dead   Wed Mar 28 2018, 05:50

David looks up at the captain from his seat.

"Wait, im bunking with a wom-"

And then the commotion starts.

At the cry of 'Sha-mano!' Marsh stood up, walking out of the pilot cabin to the deck. Looking down into the murky water, there might have been hundreds of those swimming FEV rejects surrounding the ship. He feels his stomach drop at the sight: it's as if the surf had teeth. Marsh takes a few steps back away from the rail, looking up at the sky to calm himself. This isnt the first time he's been at sea with those creatures, hell he's seen those merghouls before, but never this many. Besides radroaches, he's never even heard of so many things living together on the islands. Taking a few deep breaths he starts to get his thoughts in order: whenever the ships he was on were beset upon by the sha-mano, they never went for him first. Maybe he looks too much like a dead fish to be appetizing. Either way, at the rather loud Kanaloa's request, Marsh returns to his cabin.

While sitting at his desk tinkering around with his laser, Omatta comes up to greet him. Marsh turns his head around to look at her, scratching at the faint creases just under his neck and above his collar bone. Giving the girl a scan over before standing, he quirks an eyebrow at her rather unique mutations. Marsh has never met a psyker who looks so inhuman, he's a little intrigued. Nevertheless he extends a hand and offers a small smile. Honestly he's used to those kinds of comments by now.

"I... Get that a lot." David's voice is quiet and raspy, like someone who's in pretty bad need of some water.

"The Captain probably told you, but im David. Call me Marsh, and you must be Omatta." Once he looks up at her face properly, a bit of a chill goes down his neck. Those eyes; there's something that bugs him about her eyes. Not being able to pin where she's looking is rather... Offputting. Marsh quietly resolves to keep from looking directly into her eyes from here on.
Back to top Go down
View user profile
Overseer
Admin
avatar

Posts : 519
Join date : 2017-08-17

PostSubject: Re: Drums of the Dead   Sun Apr 01 2018, 23:03

The next following days nothing at all happened, the journey was uneventful and besides a fight or two between unruly drunkards and bravado filled sailors nothing remarkable happened. The captain took a liking for Marsh and other workers because despite they looks he could sniff which people were professionals and which one were mere wayward vagabonds.

Like other morning he reunited with you and the others on the deck of the ship to talk and inform of anything interesting.

"This has been happening for years kid." He said while huffing a thick cigar. "But its only now that it has started to happen more and more. The Sons cannot look away anymore."

"Why didn't they act sooner?" Omatta says.

"The Sons are a corporation, they are all about power and control, its like their blood and breath, without it they are as well as death. This thing was something out of their power and control, and that makes them uneasy, makes them look weak. A couple of incidents they can hide with hush money, but now that they are happening more and more times it has become something that caps cannot buy."

Omatta put her hands on her forehead and frowned, she has been feeling increasingly disturbed since going into the sea. Nightmares overcome her almost every night, going below deck fills her with an incredible sense of claustrophobia, to the point of asking to sleep in the open even if it is raining, and from time to time a great sensation of loneliness and confusion overcomes her.

"Are you all rig-" Said the captain before being interrupted by Omatta.

"Woah..." Her white eyes became filled with bursting red veins "It's here! Agh!" She fell on the floor and desperately started to grasp for air "I feel like I'm dying here! The voices! They are confused and angry! So much sorrow, so much fear! I've got to get out of this ship!"

As if they were a hive mind the sharks started getting agitated, hitting the sides of the ship with their head and tails.

"There are so many voices down there...and they are praying and...something is answering their prayers!"

Omatta then convulsed and puked a great amount of bile, vomit and blood. Then the drums came.

POOM POOM.

The drums came out of nowhere yet were perfectly audible, they were inside of the people's heads.

POOM POOM.

"N-no! I won't be your slaves! I still believe in America!" Said one of the sailors before grabbing his personal knife and attempting to kill the nearest person to him. "Get out of my way commie pirates!" After failing in his attack he became desperate and jumped from the board, falling directly onto the sea of sha-manos that quickly devoured him to shreds.



Back to top Go down
View user profile http://fallout-nukaloha.forumotion.com
David Marsh

avatar

Posts : 6
Join date : 2018-03-04

Character Screen
Level: 1
Health Points:
125/125  (125/125)
Experience:
0/0  (0/0)

PostSubject: Re: Drums of the Dead   Mon Apr 02 2018, 08:40

Those drums. Oh god those drums. That beat of war drums in the back of your head can drive a man insane, and most Psykers arent sane to begin with.

Looking down at Omatta convulsing on the ground, Marsh's jaw hangs agape as he stumbles back. Hearing the yelling and commotion, he looks back to see a man wailing about America throw himself to the tides of teeth. David finds himself shaking with fear amidst the horror surrounding him. Even in broad daylight, the sky seems dim and the black waters churn. That incessant pounding in his skull begins digging up memories- painful ones. David stumbles towards the railing, looking down at the torn carcass of the waster who jumped in. In a hushed, quivering voice he speaks.

"T-This... A psyker is doing this..." He turns to face the captain, gesturing towards Omatta "It's a psychic like h-her"

Nodding to himself, David looks back down at the sharks, clenching the railing. A few sparks arc from his hand as it touches the metal, though he doesnt notice them. Marsh has never seen a psyker cause this much damage before, but what else could it be? Nothing in the wasteland could have caused this besides someone like him. The psychic attack on the people, and assumedly the Sha-Mano couldn't have been caused by anything... well anything natural. Marsh steps back from the rail and walks back over to his cabin mate, calling the medic over to keep her stable.

This was going to be one of the jobs that stick with him.
Back to top Go down
View user profile
Overseer
Admin
avatar

Posts : 519
Join date : 2017-08-17

PostSubject: Re: Drums of the Dead   Sat May 05 2018, 07:23

The following days were quite still, nothing unusual happened. Well, the "normal" crewmen started getting away from the psykers, be them crewmen or hired guns. Your words stuck with the captain and he informed that there was a psyker mole who was driving the sea predators insane, possibly hired by some company or faction that wanted to hurt the Sons of Kanaloa.

Since the ship required of these people to continue with their usual routines to keep moving the captain didn't cease any psyker worker from its duties, but there were random inspections and searches going around, some in the middle of the night. All in all managed to make you become a pariah even among your own "kin", only Omatta dared to stay and talk to you, she knew you called the doctor and ultimately ended saving her life.

"Hey fishface, I think I managed to discover what happened." She told you one night.

She then grabbed some an old dusty book, a diary log that was written in Chinese.

"There was a sea story going around, nothing but highly exaggerated tales but this right here, confirms it."

She then opened the book, it was written in strange characters with some words in english here and there. The only thing that you could understand were the dates.

"This of course isn't the original, but a copy of a copy so take everything here with a grain of salt. Well this tells the tale of Ching Shih. She was a Corsair Captain, she worked plundering and kidnapping Ohanans, then selling the people and their gear to the High Evo for coin and resources. Nothing out of the ordinary...but, then something happened."

Omatta then searched for the particular entry, when she found it you noticed that it was written way more hastily than the others, it was obvious that a shaky nervous hand was behind that message.

"Let's see...One day they managed to raid a small military substation and capture several soldiers, when they were on high sea an Ohanan patrol detected their distress signal and went after them."

She then closed the book and looked at your fishy eyes.

"If you don't know High Evo's strategy well, it's something called Scortched Earth, pretty much means that if I can't have it nobody can so... to remove weight and become able to escape they planned to drop all the soldiers to the Sha-Mano filled sea. One of the Soldiers was a psyker and with his eyes glowing and his nose bleeding like mad he cursed all the pirates before being jetissoned onto the sea. The psyker said something like this "Damm you barbarians, you can kill me but my spirit will linger for this is only a vessel, a carcass. Kill me and I will persecute all of you for the rest of the days."

With that said Omatta closed the book, the rest of the entries seemed even more nervous and gibberish looking.

"Everybody on that pirate crew had nightmares from that day onward and there was always a group of sharks following them. It was like the pirates became riddled with a curse, even in land the people around them became unease and mentioned stuff they shouldn't know. Rings a bell doesn't it? Same thing is happening here."

She then huffed and closed her eyes.

"Here's what I believe. The story its all true and we either have a mole, but it aint a psyker, it has to be a Super-Mutant or a Ghoul, someone who could have been alive during these years or... the bodies of these people are still down there. And even if none of the original pirates remain alive it cannot rest until they have been returned to land."

Back to top Go down
View user profile http://fallout-nukaloha.forumotion.com
David Marsh

avatar

Posts : 6
Join date : 2018-03-04

Character Screen
Level: 1
Health Points:
125/125  (125/125)
Experience:
0/0  (0/0)

PostSubject: Re: Drums of the Dead   Thu May 10 2018, 14:52

At least the Kanaloa crewmen treat Marsh with a little respect. In his years of being discrimination, the mechanic had never been shunned by his Psyker peers. It's not like it's any different from being spat at in the street or tripped just cause he looks a little fishy, but maybe it cuts a little bit more. Of course, nobody is actually attacking him so that's a plus. Even with that, the days are nice and quiet. Aside from fixing a few pipes and such, Marsh spends his time tinkering with his scraps and just listening to the water. The sound of the sea has always been soothing to David, cliche as that may seem.

When Omatta, one of the only people on board who cared to talk to Marsh, came to him with some story about a cursed High Evolutionary ship and magic psykers... Well it took him a minute to get his face straight. He'd seen some wild things in his time, but a curse? It's been years since anything remotely curse related has happened to him. Well there was this one time with some spooky old book, but that's another story entirely. The idea that a Psyker's telepathic influence could persist after death is asinine, much less that they could curse someone. Marsh has lived with Deviants, and nothing like this has ever even come up.

"Um... Miss Omatta, you do realize curses aren't real?" He says trying to stifle his laughter a bit. Now this might look a bit funny, as the creases above his collar flair out a little bit as he holds back his chuckling. Yes, Marsh has (non functional) gills, which he cant exactly control. Anyway, barring that he manages not to burst out laughing at the thought of magical curses and psyker wizards.

"I uh- I- I don't mean to offend or anything, but it's probably a... You know..." He searches for the word for a second.

"Saboteur, yeah."
Back to top Go down
View user profile
Overseer
Admin
avatar

Posts : 519
Join date : 2017-08-17

PostSubject: Re: Drums of the Dead   Wed May 16 2018, 21:55

After listening to your opinion Omatta pouted and made a weird face.

"Sheesh, I dunno. Sabotage is more like things exploding and all that right? And nothing has exploded so far, and if anything explodes we have you to fix things up. If it is really sabotage how can you explain the violent outbursts and suicides?"

The ship's voyage was about to finish, it had already been several weeks on sea, catching as most non irradiated fish as it could far away from Hawaii's coasts and it was now ready to return and sell its cargo. If you don't discover why people act erratically then the Sons will still pay you, but they surely won't consider you for future jobs.

"You have any better idea?"
Back to top Go down
View user profile http://fallout-nukaloha.forumotion.com
David Marsh

avatar

Posts : 6
Join date : 2018-03-04

Character Screen
Level: 1
Health Points:
125/125  (125/125)
Experience:
0/0  (0/0)

PostSubject: Re: Drums of the Dead   Thu May 17 2018, 05:00

"Hm." David thinks to himself for a few moments. How could they resolve this? The sons are... well not good people, but they pay nicely and working with them has been fairly pleasant. Marsh starts putting the pieces together in his head one by one, trying to come up with something he could give the Captain. With what Omatta said, and even if curses aren't real, it's possible there's something under the water. The drums and Sha-Mano attacks aren't unique to this voyage, so it really shouldn't be anyone on the boat itself. That leaves two options.

Either there's a psyker living near the haunted strait, or something is burred beneath the waves. It's certainly possible that the remains of a telepathic under the sea is still sending off signals. Something like that could rile up the sea life, and mess with sailors. That or there could be something more sinister down there. Marsh digs into his pocket, grabbing the little wood idol he keeps in there. It was a gift from an old ghoul he met a year or so after he left the Deviant camp. Through his wandering, Marsh has seen some pretty odd things. Nothing to this scale, but certainly whispers from the dark and things of that nature. This might be one of those, just shouting.

First though, the more plausible idea.

"Well, maybe we're both right. These attacks aren't just happening to us, so it's nobody on board. We should see if the Sons have any rad-surfing suits on board, and anybody willing to comb the seabed for bodies. Maybe there's a shipwreck down there with the body of a telepathic. Maybe he's still sending out signals to the Sha-Mano, y'know?" David nods to himself, pretty content in that hypothesis. Hopefully the Sons think it's worth looking into, enough to keep his reputation pretty positive. The whole situation's pretty fantastic though.

"Even if I'm not specifically right about the Psyker, maybe it's something else under the water? Either way it's worth bringing up, I think."
Back to top Go down
View user profile
Sponsored content




PostSubject: Re: Drums of the Dead   

Back to top Go down
 
Drums of the Dead
Back to top 
Page 1 of 1
 Similar topics
-
» the foals and the 2 dead foals
» God is Dead - Sign Up
» Bleach: God is Dead
» Dead on Patrol
» Of a Dead Friend

Permissions in this forum:You cannot reply to topics in this forum
Fallout Nukaloha: Wish you were here. :: 
The Hawaiian Wasteland
 :: 
The Corrupted Ocean
-
Jump to: