, missed the training, but since the Lurkers I've got a little bit of writing (status reports for the faction, but still ;P).[Using Psi Darts at this time:]
I sense them. Underneath the ground. They're hungry; so hungry. They maybe strong, but their minds are weak. No match even for my limited powers. Their heads adorn my armour, fill my pack. I grow tired of the lack of challenge. I grow tired of the smell of the prey, but this is my job. This is my money. If only I could pass that ridge, but something… prevents me. Something… holds me. On my brothers. On with the mindless, ceaseless and pointless killing. Onwards, for ours is not the question, ours is to kill and die.
The ridge, it's as though something has been lifted! Onwards I go, into the Steps (Steppes?) filled with snakes. Two-headed, irradiated, snakes. There is something else here, I sense. Something... civilised? I'm not sure, but I know that I feel called back to the worms. To those lurkers. I need things from them. In this world, we have to construct our own items, build with our own hands… Or minds.
[Switched to using Finger Blade:]
I read their thoughts. I hear their voices on the comms. There are too many people criss-crossing these desert sands, all hunting my target. Lurkers; they no longer pose a threat to me, but I want their heads! *swipe* comes the head, *swipe* comes the skin, *swipe* comes the tooth. It's to make me stronger, to make it easier to kill. Easier. Pah! With some other survivors, I've formed a faction. Nothing holds terror for me anymore. To the contrary, everything is too easy. I'm starting to consider killing this tribe of muties, but they have rad sacs. Why do they want rad sacs? What will they use them for? Will they pose a threat? Only time will tell.
Report.
Day: unknown.
Still in this scorching desert. Still eviscerating harvesters while hunting these lurkers, but I grow restless. My gaze wanders Southeast, where I must proceed. Soon. Everything I build is of poor quality. Everything I touch, dies. My radio growls with the voice of faction members, sometimes from the locals. I want to join them, but am not ready. Soon... soon I will be. My head aches from the strain of blocking out the voices. I grow more powerful every day. Soon, I will be unstoppable! Soon, we will create the doom that was promised. Soon……
