Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)The sky's were always overcast now, the soot in the atmosphere made the world bake in the summer and freeze in the winter. The world had fallen into chaos the past 45 years. After the nukes went up, and the cities went down, nothing mattered save for who had the most bullets, the most food, and the most to sell. Those who could not offer joined and worked for those who could. Those who had nothing were solid for what little shit they were worth to the world.
Nix was the king of his world in the rocky mountain fortress he had constructed. Over a hundred men and their families at his disposal in this compound and at hamlets farming, and nearly double that in slaves. He was a warlord, and a wealthy one that that. He had half a dozen working vehicles, and several others in various states of repair. Enough guns and bullets both scavenged and in production to supply his small army nicely, and he had not been short food for years now.
But he was not in charge or this wealthy because he was a good leader, charismatic, had the drive to press his peasants to it. No, that was only a mild aid, they did it because they feared him, feared what he could do to them. He he did not only own slaves for labor, it was a commonly known fact that he had his own flock of cortisone slaves he hand picked from every group of prisoners they took to suit his need. He had a thing for the mutants and genetically altered human begins, and his sadistic tendencies were seen in the bodies that every so often came from his mansion on the hill.
Today another handful of slaves would be brought in, another handful of workers to be divided through the fields, though Nix would come down from the mountain, come down from his fortress on the hill to the old highway path, and look and take the slaves he wanted for himself. That is what everyone new, but no one said.
Nix was the king of his world in the rocky mountain fortress he had constructed. Over a hundred men and their families at his disposal in this compound and at hamlets farming, and nearly double that in slaves. He was a warlord, and a wealthy one that that. He had half a dozen working vehicles, and several others in various states of repair. Enough guns and bullets both scavenged and in production to supply his small army nicely, and he had not been short food for years now.
But he was not in charge or this wealthy because he was a good leader, charismatic, had the drive to press his peasants to it. No, that was only a mild aid, they did it because they feared him, feared what he could do to them. He he did not only own slaves for labor, it was a commonly known fact that he had his own flock of cortisone slaves he hand picked from every group of prisoners they took to suit his need. He had a thing for the mutants and genetically altered human begins, and his sadistic tendencies were seen in the bodies that every so often came from his mansion on the hill.
Today another handful of slaves would be brought in, another handful of workers to be divided through the fields, though Nix would come down from the mountain, come down from his fortress on the hill to the old highway path, and look and take the slaves he wanted for himself. That is what everyone new, but no one said.