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  3. My mistake was picturing too much of the landscape we saw in Tactics, while I know Wellstone looks nothing like Gravestone now but it's old environment was how I pictured the land far beyond Wellstone. I'm not arguing mind everyone and it'll be changed or deleted, just at a standstill right now.
  4. I don't think the post needs to be deleted, possibly just edited. I took some of the description to be because of his pained state and he was delirious. Though water likely wouldn't be a problem imo.
  5. It's been 200 hundred years. The nukes used in Fallout weren't even that powerful to scorch the earth in that large area. They were actually purposefully weaker to cause more damage through, well, nuclear fallout which in a more powerful nuke would have been launched up into the atmosphere and stayed there until it became pretty much harmless. Which also the radiation left by the bombs would be by now. Any radiation that exist currently would have to come from nuclear waste and damaged power plants.
  6. The entire land has regrown? They weren't near the city when the muties smashed them into the ground, I had it in my mind they were near the old state border.
  7. I remember me and Doc talked about how things have actually regrown outside the area of the cities that were hit. Any real wasteland actually being relegated to around the blast sites. I also don't think water would be that much of an issue. There was even a talk in one of the Texas caravan posts about the problem with water is the things that lurk in it.
  8. Oh god I goofed up, didn't write it as a desert given mention to the clay but looking back I think I made a mistake. I was picturing too much of Fallout Tactics. Welp I guess that's a post that needs to be deleted, ******* two hours of work down the drain
  9. You know the Belt isn't actually a desert? I expect temperatures to be relatively pleasant during early autumn.
  10. I'm actually kinda far behind in the Fallout posts, I think I have like five posts to read before getting caught up. Made a post that will get a followup tomorrow, was a bit short but since it's getting followed up tomorrow I don't think it's a problem.
  11. Lost Lands Ruined Highway Sinbad could hardly stand his consistent jolts of pain coursing up his wounds, shrapnel embedded in his person was bad enough but the flagellation at his own hands while proper would be the death of him he was sure. Whatever adrenaline he once bore had been ebbing away throughout the night, each self inflicted lash at his dear friend's side peeked it and yet now he felt the consequences. An endless stretch of cracked asphalt far as the eye could see, neglected by working folks long since perished in fire's fury. A fury what was left of the old movement faced the night before, ghosts and demons shimmering like the sun scorched roads. With shock and thanks to the gods for survival transitioning into a terrible sorrow, his folk, his kin they lost their way and even in life so too did Sinbad. Limping about the endless roads sowed doubt into Sinbad, it was devoid of anything, neither wreckage nor animals of any kind, the sun betraying all with it's blistering heat was Sinbad's only company. Did he truly survive? Was he not killed by the demons, is this not Santonsoft's realm? Devoid of anything holy and pure, were there anything the absolute opposite of Panasonica he would picture this in it's fullest. Turning aback with hopes of abandoning this horrid realm, perhaps to the holy sites in the far east was instantly snatched away with the road once behind him vanished. Leaving hard packed clay with the faintest of footprints embedded on the surface, time had lost it's meaning. The sane man understands and admits approaching ailments, for this Sinbad was certain he began the decent into deliriousness. His flask long since dry, the clay brought only lies of distant lakes beckoning the foolish to become lost in it's dunes, this road may have been the path to the Tech-Underworld but to chase these false hopes would become lost for eternity. Even the winds, radioactive as they may be wished for his death, he received no respite. At the brink of his limits Sinbad shamefully used his own laser rifle to brace himslf, to ease the pressure on his legs. The butt of his stock pressed up his armpit while the barrel cursed him with each plant into the ground. With the turning of dusk marking the only sane measurement of time he found his lips cracked as the roads he walked on, his mouth dry as the packed clay. The coming of night replaced one extreme with another, ungodly heat pulled away by the magnet-currents only to bring forth unfathomable cold. In the early hours of the night only able to keep warm within his sweaty banding by removing his gloves, and gas mask, placing his forehead, cheeks and hands to the still sweltering asphalt bringing about some small comfort. Yet even this had faded away into the night. Keeping a slow pace of which Sinbad couldn't speed up anyhow given his injuries helped maintain a steady exertion of stamina, however his state of being did catch up. Able to take it no longer he laid himself down on the edge of the road, curled up in a ball and lulled into a rather uncomfortable rest. The unforgiving sun would not be the thing to awaken Sinbad, without any track of time and withering away like some pitiful animal when the sounds of thunder echoed across the land it snapped him into attention; weapon at the ready. Without any light pollution the moon illuminated at a considerable level, yet Sinbad didn't need any moon to witness the source of his alarms. Just on the horizon lay a sickly green haze high within the sky, what should have been cumulonimbus clouds a hundred times too distant and dark to see lit up the distance, how he wished to be back on the cool banks of the Cleaver-Land. The voices of Be'alza-Gates whispered to him from the techless land, whispering of a quick way to the Eternal Assembly Lines in the form of a single trigger pull. With the acolyte unable to sway Sinbad it was Satonsoft who spoke in thunder and storm, the radstorm ever slowly continued it's path right in his direction. Unable to turn back and outrun the amalgamation of Santonsoft sent to carve out the last heart of the Reavers, he could only continue forward straight through the monstrosity. This road was his only hope of salvation, it was two lies, two paradoxes but still his only hope. By the time Sinbad saw the downpour of it's deadly rain, a sheet of greenish specks and lines falling to the earth it was nearly upon him. He had weathered countless of these in his lifetime, yet the entire camp took cover within the tents, turning all water barrels down and even the pitiful slaves had a tarp thrown over them. But now to face a storm like this without cover, without advanced hazmat suits long since left behind in holy sites out east odds stacked five to one this would be the end. It first came with a sense of goosebumps all about his body when the bouts of foul wind greeted Sinbad, accompanied by droplets. The rain itself at the moment was nothing to be concerned about, bouncing off his poncho. But the goosebumps quickly turned to itching as the winds pierced his kit as if it was nothing, itching turned to stinging, as the winds turned to daggers burning into his flesh it picked up in it's intensity further. Unable to stand any longer against the forces, Sinbad was thrown to the ground whimpering against the storm's fury. Crawling as nails dug itself across his body, armor disgustingly sizzling as the highly radioactive rain now poured against him in gallons. It all became a green blur through his goggles, senses caught between mind numbing and aflame. Unable to even scream biting so hard against his teeth, it was all Sinbad could manage not to snap straight through his tongue. He had not a single RadX pill to filter his systems, it wasn't an hour in and he knew in his heart this storm would leave him dead or cooked alive or gods forbid afflicted as a Ghoul. Futilely crawling across on his belly clawing at the ground with such fervor it eventually tore holes in the tips of his gloves, terrible visions showed themselves to Sinbad in the storm, Prophet Tesla laying slain next to the Holy Coil, faces of shimmering demons claiming the souls of his fellow Reavers and all sorts of horrors. Far too out of his mind to grasp these were illusions his mind conjured up. Once again time lost all meaning here, he couldn't fathom how long he's suffered within. Seconds, minutes, hours? The booming thunder and flashes around him dulled his senses further. Only once his hands came across something sticking upright out of the ground, whatever it was being obscured by the storm. His hands were numb to even tell if it was metal or otherwise, unable to go any further Sinbad never releasing his grip curled up in a fetal position, shivering and ever weathering the elements. He would perish long before the storm ended should it continue throughout the night, against whatever he clinged onto would mark the final resting place. Or so it would have been, it was gradual at first and in his condition he didn't notice. The slight lessening of the downpour marked by a receding intensity of it's ungodly winds, in time the blinding green haze began to lessen as well. In doing so Sinbad wearily reared his head up and while being rewarded with terrible stinging across his neck, the very object he clinged so dearly was quite literally a sign from the gods. It was a medium sized pole with some scrap haphazardly welded onto it, rusted words barely comprehensible etched into it. 'Wellstone, Seven miles northwest.' With his strength leaving him, unable to even keep his head lifted up it dropped against the pole. The last thing he witnessed before slipping into either exhaustion or a lingering death was the silhouette just making itself visible from the lessening haze, tall structures mixed with light just below the horizon.
  12. skyrim

    There are a few possibilities Your quest mod doesn't have the ticky box "RUN ONCE" checked, does it? Making this change to your script mid game could be problematic. If you know how, I'd recommend using the save cleaning tool to force Skyrim to reacquire the script for your mod I know I had you change it. Not sure if you changed it back. Make sure your Dialogue option for "Go to sleep" is set with the Condition "GET IN FACTION" "CURRENT FOLLOWER FACTION" == 1 And finally, it's possible this is just Skyrim being Skyrim. I've had a lot of "artifacts" come up in modding. Like, the dialogue for a character won't come up, you leave the cell, come back, and the dialogue is fine. Skyrim is an old, crotchety, cantankerous game and it tends to be a pain for no reason, but it's what we got.
  13. skyrim

    Ok, i did the things you told me: first: I edited my script and compiled it Second: i had to add Dawnguard as a master of my plugin because i needed to fill the properties Third: i added my script again to the quest and filled the three properties The results were... well... we tried... What did i do wrong? i can't get it...
  14. Yesterday
  15. Lol don't hate on my little Mexican
  17. Christ, I meant Andrew, or Alex, whatever his name is. Trumps wall cant come up fast enough. Stealin my man n shit.
  18. I'd respond but I have no idea what your censored word is lol
  19. Ah ok. Spent about 2 weeks over there at Texas tech for a med school seminar last year
  20. Not since you been pallin around with the ******.
  21. Lubbock right now, but growing up I lived all over West Texas
  22. Oh please, you probably dream about my succulent brown skin every night before you go to bed.
  23. What part of Texas? I'm down here too. Dallas to be specific.
  24. You know, I guess this makes me Triple B now
  25. And sweet, guess we gonna be havin drive bys in our Sunbird convertible tops.
  26. I forgot lol I don't think about you like that ******.
  27. Cabrito my dude. Probably my favorite thing about living in Texas is the BBQ, Tex-Mex, Mexican food we have. And cabrito combines BBQ and Mexican food, so it's a win win!
  28. Sorry for the delayed response! Javon knows I typically play as a redguard or high elf wizard. Am definitely leaning in the high elf direction though
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