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Strings throws his fish back into his sack, following behind Tamira a few paces behind her with his bow drawn at the ready. "Bears aren't so bad. Just throw a fish it's way, and then bury an arrow in it's body while it's gawking at the thing." His shoulders shrug as he spoke, picking up to a pace to match the Dunmer's. "Beside, we're crawling through a mountain home to a dragon, or a nest of bandits, or both. A bear should be the least of worries."

Strings nods his head and steps closer to Tamira. He nods his head to the ash skin, producing a fishy morsel from his sack and offering it to the Dunmer, "Want some food before we get moving? Got plenty kept in my bag." The smell of his of the fish was strong as could be, and it was stained in his breath as he spoke as well, smelled like a wharf that hasn't been cleaned of dead fish in a dragon's age.

Only the battery is replaceable, but at a point it just becomes a mote point, as eventually the drills will start to empty their deposits before their die, which doesn't give any productivity return, just uses less time charging the interchangeable batteries.

Theres still plasma in science, if you can get the RD/Xenobiologists to hand over their small stock of plasma. In my experience, you only need two crystals to get your research up to snuff.

Well, we've only ever seen America following the events of the Great War of 2077, and then only small pockets of the country. But Im more interested in whatever happened to the other contentions, more specifically Eurasia. Thought most people here have showed themselves as lore buffs of Elder Scrolls, Im sure we have some lore theorists for Fallout sitting around. I have a theory or two of my own. China During the events of Mothership Zeta, you get to see the Earth on a larger scale, most importantly you see Asia. Or, at least you see the aftermath of the nuclear strike there. Everything is shrouded by nuclear smog, giving the impression that China, Russia, all the red menaces were just wiped completely off the face of the Earth following 2077. But the human race has a knack for surviving when it probably shouldn't. I hold the theory that, while it's population would have been completely and utterly decimated because they didn't have anything like Project Safehouse, people would survive, just like people did outside of America's vaults. A mere fraction of China and Russia still stand, but only 1 to 2 percent of their population as of 2077. By my calculations, I would estimate the population of China at 7,100,000 directly after the fall of the nuclear bombs. Assuming the population drops even more because of radiation poisoning, social dissent, and sterility cause by radiation and ghoulism, let's say that it drops 75 perfect in 200 year. This all leaves the population at a horribly low population of 1,775,000 during the events of Fallout 3. So, what's happened to the people and governing bodies in this time? Well, obviously China would dissolve, there was no way they could salvage their government following the Sino-American war, AND the Great War bombings. So in the power vacuum that followed sometime after, Japan moves in to try to take control after the events of WW2 and the Resource Wars. Japan forms a pseudo-NCR, trying to reform and create the continent in their own image at the cost of populations they integrated into their government. But just like the NCR can't keep a full handle over the Khans, the Legion, and other inside and outside sources, neither can these Japanese aggressors. Inside mainland China you find warlords controlling large swaths of lands, created in the image of pre-war Chinese criminal organizations like the Triads. These warlords assume control with staches of illegal weapons garnered during the lawlessness before and after the Great War, and their top warriors are given electrified katanas based on the shock swords ancient Chinese officers were given, and power armour salvaged from Americans who couldn't get out of China in time following the Sino-American war, decorated to match appearance of ancient Shogun armour. So, what becomes of the people left? Well, it's been established that much of China is just a radioactive hellhole. So, I would hazard a guess that a large portion of China's population are now Ghouls, 90+ percent, probably the only aspect that let them survive for so long following the Great War. But it does make the situation grim, as eventually they will all become feral. And that's why I only take this lore theory to the events of 2277, because by the time the events of New Vegas take place, the entire population of China is feral, and only small pockets of humans survive, trying to beat back hoards of feral ghouls and Japanese invaders as they try to take control of the land. The Soviet Union For some reason in the Fallout universe, the roles of America's greatest enemy fallowing WW2 was changed between the USSR and China, and theres nothing into the lore to explain this. But, the USSR and US obviously had better relations in this timeline, as the USSR even had embassies and constant diplomatic relations between the two countries. So, America and Russia were all friendly, friendly, and I can only assume because they had a large nuclear arsenal, and were closer to their biggest enemy, China. So, lets assume during WW2 Russian expended it's own nuclear arsenal on China because it was the enemy of their friend, the Americans. This could explain why China is so fucked up, as seen from space. But obviously China wouldn't want to retaliate back so badly, they're probably want to do their damnedest to fuck up America more than their allies. So Im going to assume that Russia is still Russia, just with the threat of nuclear fallout poisoning it's people, and a few more craters in the ground where high target areas like the Kremlin, Leningrad, and Berlin used to be. For a time after 2077, I don't think much would change for Russia, until after 2277, when huge amounts of 'zombies' start to attack Russia from the south. Since Russia wouldn't want to risk their military forces fighting against what could be a zombie apocalypse after the nuclear apocalypse, they conscript a civilian defense force specifically to defend the Russian/Chinese border from the ghouls while the actual military forces there pulled back. Eventually some of the ghouls they were part of the Chinese Warlord armies started to make their way to Russia, carrying with them the power armour, guns and swords they were given. It took a lot to put them down, but eventually this conscript force would be able to outfit small numbers of themselves with military grade weapons and power armour, and it was going to take the Russians years to find out their civilian conscripts were becoming better equipped than their own military. They only found out when this rag time group of power armoured militants decided to fight back against the military that had pulled back away from the border, sick and tired of being forced to fight against the ghouls against their will. They were able to beat the military and more fights than one would think, but they had one thing the militants couldn't beat. Numbers. Eventually they were crushed under the heel of the Soviet army, and those who weren't killed in battle were executed. The weapons and power armour were taken for the military, but they still had no interest in risking their military on 'zombies' so they just ceded from there, letting the ghouls come as they pleased, leaving the citizens to fend for themselves against the stray ghoul attacks.

Strings follows suit behind Aela and Tamira, saying something in Jel as he walked along. As the walk went on, he started to strum and sing, voice speaking in Jel, but the tune he was playing was clearly 'The Age of Oppression,' playing the notes a bit louder in time with each crunch of the snow under the steps of his feet with precise timing.

Strings huffs and follows Aela's departure with his eyes, waiting until she was out of earshot to speak. "I don't think our 'guide' read our posting so thoroughly. We're supposed to be looking for the missing people, not tracking down a dragon. Hope she had a good reason to drag us halfway up to Mundus on this freezing mountain." He shook his head and hisses longly after saying that, kicking snow onto the flames until it died down. He reaches down into his fishy sack, producing a salted, dried fish, that he promptly throws into his mouth whole. Halla/Tamira

Strings shakes his head and gathers his belongings. His bow, his quiver with the ebony arrows, a dagger made of steel, a sack that reeked of fish more than the docks of Windhelm, and of course his faithful lute. Once he had all his personnel belongings secured, he turned his gaze to the Bosmer. "And that is exactly why I do not get furs. Skyrim will chill my body to the bone no matter what, may as well be freezing with a few more Septims in my coin purse." He mumbles something under his breath about Imperials, and then turns his looks to Aela, "Isn't it all the more likely they were just stolen away by bandits? You'd think a dragon would leave a burned corpse, or charred ground as evidence of it's theft." Halla

Strings was wrapped around himself around the fire they'd made for camp, staring intently at the flames as his chilled fingers strummed away at the lute he dragged along for the mission. He was dressed in his steel armour, and that really didn't do anything to help against the bristling cold. As he heard Aela come into the camp, he couldn't help but shoot a dirty glance her way, breaking the flow of whatever song he was playing before her return. But he kept his thoughts to himself, returning to his music, and his eyes to the fire until she asked if they were ready to leave camp. He spoke up then, with the normal hiss in his voice most Argonians had, "Yes, for Sithis' sake. Well, at least I am ready. Need to get my blood moving before it all freezes like a Nord." Having said that he stands from his seated position in the snow, walking close enough to the fire that ember and licks of the fire started to brush against the plates of his armour.

I just noticed, Aela is called the Dragon Huntress now. Is that just because of the events of the Alduin invasion, or does she got some knife eared tongue in her mouth with the Harbinger-born?

Killing in self-defense in NOT preferred. If possible, always try to flee, or disable your opponent. Just pointing this out. They were vampire, correct? And they just fed, so they should have had several other, nonlethal way to disable the security members beside venting several rooms, and killing several people just becuz lul. I also dislike that he went out of his way to make the cloning process more arduous, just because he could.

Do you suspect Fowl play?

Strings walks over to the crowded notice board, wishing his tail side to side idly as he read through the quests plastered on it. He looked at those already marked with names first. Hunting for dragons with Halla and the Dark Elf? Could do. Fighting a Hagraven cult with the Nord? Probably not. Necroman- NOPE. After considering his options for a few moments silently, he dips a claw on his right hand in ink, and signs his name on the dragon investigation. With his job chosen, he returned to the table in the middle of the mead hall, plucking a song away on his lute.

Im still lost as to why Skull would make it say he and only he could restart the server. Should probably give the power to someone who lives in a different timezone so stuff like this doesn't happen. Long as it isn't Tenz who gets it.

And you think this is cool bc...?

Moved to the correct sub-forum.

Strings it is.

Elf? I didn't make any elves. You mean the Argonian?

Alright, since we already seem to be full up on ranged people, submitting a melee fighter, just so we have one, or if Strings isn't the cup'a this campaign deserves. Name: Imuka Veamillion Description: A human with skin caked in dirty, grim and tales of a thousand battles. His hair is black, and grown down past his skull, tied backwards into a ponytail to keep it out of his eyes, though he usually keeps it free while in Whiterun. Not any other city, though. He always wears his armour. It composes of hide clad all around his body, with potions tied around their necks hung at his waist. With wears hide bracers around his wrist, the ends of which with topped with fur to help protect from the cold, at least a bit. His wore open-toed sandals made of leather, with fur that went up his legs past his ankles. Primary skill: One handed, light armour. Misc skills: Destruction magic Disadvantages: Previous a Mad Man of the Reach, also known as a Forsworn. He still wears the armour of his old allegiance, so it's not something that could easily be hid. Backstory: He was there during the glorious days when the Reach was held in it's own right as a kingdom independent of Skyrim and the Empire, as it should have been. Then Ulfric came and shouted them from the walls of Markarth, and that was something that couldn't ever be forgiven. He lived and fought during the Civil War and the return of the dragons, watching from the sidelines with the rest of the Forsworn as Skyrim ripped itself apart and burned at the same time. But beside watching and battling in the wilds of Reach, nothing much came of his life, until the end of the war. When Ulfric claimed victory over the Empire, he was shattered, along with the rest of the Forsworn. He lashed out and tried to fight against the Reach and it's new masters, but that went as well as you could expect. After a second crushing defeat in Markarth, and the death of countless Forsworn in it's attempt, he left the Reach, physically and emotionally defeated for the last time by the Stormcloaks. Instead he found a new way to prove himself in the Companions. If he couldn't fight the army of the Nords, he could at least proof he was their equal, maybe even their better.

Name: Plucks-At-Strings Description: An Argonian of scales tinged a soft brown with red feathers tapered down the back of his head. His scales are neatly cared for, but the tips of his fingers look raw, some even scared. When he walks in presence of civilization, he wears a plain white overshirt, green pants, and a padded red jacket, with a diamond pattern laced into it's fabric. Whenever he stands in the way of battle, he wears armour made of steel, with musical notes carved into the shoulder plates and the top of his gauntlets. Primary skill: Heavy armour, archery, one handed. Misc skills: Speechcraft, swimming, the lute. Disadvantages: He's Argonian, so that would be a disadvantage on it's own. He has others, but Ill leave scattered hints on the way. Backstory: Originally a bard, before he came to Skyrim the only stings he ever pulled back on were on his lute, and the only cries he ever screamed were the words of the songs and poems he read. The Civil War held a unique opportunity, surely those in strife would need cheering up, families ripped apart by war, bitter hatred in the back of everyone's mind, who wouldn't want to listen to a fine bard's notes with a glass of wine or mead? So the Argonian went to Skyrim, with stars in his eyes. But the stars hid the true danger that plagued Skyrim. The emergence of the dragons put Skyrim at more risk then they had even been in, at least in the current era, and even immigrants with the best of intentions were caught between the crossfire. Only seemed fitting, giving his name, and his people's history, that should he ever need to pick up a weapon in defense of his own life, it'd be a bow. And of course it did at, at least one point or the other. Eventually he became good at it, plucking a new string to the music of death. After fighting for so long, the silky, calming strings on his lute didn't call to him as they used to. So he sought out to be a fighter, by choice instead of need this time. This eventually brought him to the Companions, where he started to train and fight. He'd always stay in the rear of battle, picking the enemy apart, and using a dagger or a short sword to kill those who looked to take the arrowfire away from the battle. He is surely the most social of the Companions, and if not, probably the most outward. He still plays his lute among the people and singing in the Bannered Mare. It's also become a running joke that he would bring his lute to the dining room of Jorrvaskr and start strumming the tune of "The Dragonborn Comes" whenever he hears the Harbinger coming up from the bed chambers. Beside his love of battle, the thing he holds dearest in his heart is his likability. What point is there in having a place to call home, and people you put the trust of your life in if they have no love for you? He tries to hold himself in high standards of all the Companions, being a friend as well as an ally, expanding the same concept to those who live in Whiterun.

If anything I thought it made much more sense. A people with a history of being repressed and not treated as equals for superficial reasons, wouldn't turn and treat others like they were treated, for superficial reasons. Thats basically what it used to say, now it says because they've been repressed, they now hate homosexuality and the Zhan are seen as stupid and aggressive? I mean, they pray to the Suns, and some deity made of clay or something, so I doubt their religion says 'no fagooos,' so what reason do they actually have to hate homosexuality all of a sudden? It feels a lot more forced than when homosexuality was accepted openly. Actually, just looked it up after writing this, every religion mentioned in the wiki says they preach unity and understanding, so even the religions the species follow seem to contradict the recent changes. So they suddenly hate gays, and the Zhan, but every major religion is based around unity, understanding, and the betterment of the Tajaran people?

It's actually kind of gonna hurt at least two of my characters. One of them is a very traditional religion Tajara, who happens to be homosexual, so now that throw a little kink in his story, which I /GUESS/ could be overlooked. Theres also my Cat Doge, who is semi-openly homosexual.

Fucking casuals.

Well, it sounds a lot like Shells, just with needless extra bits and bobs we're going to have to wait for you to port around instead of giving us the old, bit-less bob-less thing we already had and liked. Plus, one of the coolest things you could do with Shells was make them look like other speices beside human, and... Yeeeeaaaaah. So yeah, on paper they sound a lot like Shells. But they don't FEEL like Shells, looks like an upgrade, feels like an upgrade. Its like a game that removes something, and calls it a feature. Not to mention we already have Shell ingrained into our lore, and we already have an on-station story arch playing because of that, only because of Shells. Coders put work into making that happen, lore writers put work into making that happen, players put work into making that happen. Im not keen on tossing that to the side for what feels like a downgrade.

Why do none of you fucks know how to post images that actually fit on the fucking forum.