Tuesday, March 29, 2011


You decide to roam a while longer, attacking the compound right now would be a death wish.

The group explores for hours, you decide to take a short break. During this break, the Marconians teach you how to preserve meat by salting it to dry out. The end-product of this process is both effective and delicious. The group fills their bellies with kidney beans, imitation crabmeat and your newly discovered klop pastrami. Eventually, Sledge suggests packing it in for the night and making camp. The Marconians quickly agree. Tootie arranges a schedule for members of the group to take two hours at a time keeping watch for raiders or Duttonites. You lay your head on the floor and quickly fall into a deep slumber.

In your dream a large, ambiguous sea mammal stalks you. You go to court in an attempt to get a restraining order, but the judge rules that you have no legal grounds for it and scolds you for tarnishing the reputation of what may be a dolphin, walrus or whale of some sort.

You are woken up by the sound of an orangutan sharpening a hunting knife. Most of the group has woken up but are slow to get off the hard floor. The day holds nothing in particular for the group, as far as you know. All there is to do is explore, so explore you do. After about an hour of exploring wastelands that were nothing of interest, you come upon a dead end. A 10 foot high fence with barbed wire lacing the top stands in front of you with a brick building on either side. You can't see very far due to the smog, but it seems the fence stretches about 4-5 blocks. After a few minutes of pondering Sledge speaks.

"I think this might be the prison, I've never actually seen it in person."
"Ahh, I thought so," replies Franney. "The sign up there says 'PR ON', I guess they've had some cuts to their maintenance department."
"Dutton has its own prison?" asks Tootie.
"Mostly people who the King has deemed criminals," Franney explains. "Almost none of them have committed actual crimes. Dutton doesn't have a written set of laws, the King uses his own discretion to decide who comes here and how long. Most people never return."
"So there's a place full of people harboring immense amounts of disdain for the King all in one place?" asks Tootie. "Seems like a pretty obvious place to recruit more soldiers to our group."
"Well it could be dangerous, but would most definitely be worth the trouble if we're able to break the prisoners free and convince them to join our cause."


Dig underneath the fence and break into the prison. You could match the King's army with the prisoners on your side.

Forget about the prison, they're prisoners for fuck's sake! Having such a large army of psychologically broken and more than likely volatile soldiers would hinder you more than it would help you. Your best bet is to plan a guerrilla attack on the main compound with your current group.

Forget about the King, you're bored with all the sob-stories about "injustice" and "iron-fist rule". Ask Sledge about the areas surrounding Dutton so you can explore them! You can always come back to murder the King and his loyalists later.

Sunday, March 27, 2011


You invite the Marconians to your klop-meat feast.

"That's unusually friendly for a Duttonite," says one of the Marconians, cautiously. She is about 16 years old. "My name is Franney."

You, Tootie and Sledge introduce yourselves, Sledge seems weary of the Marconians. The lot of you fill your bellies with klop-meat.

"So, what do you guys know about the King?" aks Tootie.
"The King is a fucking pig..." mutters Franney, as if to keep the statement from wandering ears. "We did very well as a community long-before he came along, but people adored his charisma. The only reason he was able to declare himself King is because he's been here longer than anybody, and that's only because he hasn't aged past the 17 year point of exile."
"What do you mean he hasn't aged?" aks Tootie.
"I mean he hasn't aged. Legend has it that he's been a teenager for over 2 decades. Still, though his body hasn't grown, his attitude towards instilling so many rules over our population has certainly shown signs of adulthood. Miserable, awful adulthood."

Sledge confirms.

You start to wonder why it is that the King hasn't aged. Tootie has suggested in the past that the guy probably just has a growth disorder, this theory is starting to make sense.

You ask the Marconians if they'd ever consider a coup to take down the King in order to free Dutton from his rule.
"Considered it? Of course we've considered it. Unfortunately we're severely underarmed and outnumbered. Judging by your distance from the main compound I take it you're not exactly on his good side either."
You nod.
"The guy knows how to burn bridges, that's for sure," she chuckles. "He's only gotten more and more arrogant with time, and I don't foresee any end to his terror. The worst part is that his loyalists fail to, or even refuse to see the injustices that are right in front of them. There's not much we can do, they are ready and willing to die for whatever he decides is their 'cause'."
"We have been doing our best to take out members of his army," Tootie explains, "but we've been trying to figure out how we would go about taking him down directly."
"Well his chamber is deep within the Dutton compound, it would be one hell of a fight to get there. We would be outnumbered, but judging by the weaponry you had pulled on us earlier, we certainly have a technological advantage. The safest option would probably be an inside job, though that would require the recruitment of people who are both close to the King and harbor disdain for him. Something hard to come by, he doesn't leave himself open to most."


Suggest roaming the wastes a little longer, hoping to widdle down the King's army and possibly recruit more man-power for your cause.

Attempt a guerrilla attack on the Dutton compound in the night with the help of the Marconians.

Forget about the King, he doesn't seem so bad. Focus your energy towards exploring towns outside of Dutton.