Hell on Earth - Taking Back the Wasted West

Shark Hunting

Marty’s Tale—May 6, 2093

After a spending a night in Killian’s Rest we were asked to help deal with a problem of bandits calling themselves the “Sharks”. They were raiding the local farming outposts. Figures. It never ceases to amaze me how cruel norms can be to one another.

We set out that night and aimed to ambush to raiders at a gas station they were using as a base. I was reluctant to show my viridian goliath power to the other norms, but I saw no other good way to deal with such a large number of armed norms. I warned them not to panic when they saw me change. The last thing I needed was to end up killing my new companions in a rage. Fortunately they managed to stay calm and the attack progressed beautifully.

The “Sharks” were understandably surprised as I burst out of the darkness into the middle of them and started ripping them limb from limb. The deputies that were sent with us were surprisingly effective with their long arms. As was the Templar who dove into an open window of the gas station and started some mayhem of his own. In short order the “Sharks” were no more.

Hopefully the others aren’t frightened of me now that they have seen me for what I truly am.


May 6-7, 2093

Shark Hunting

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