Fort Akton, The Bunker, Klos 15th, 350AC, 10:00, new moon

(At this point, your wounds are all healed, excepting the disintegration damage)  Your characters were all asked the previous day to report to the Presidents’ meeting room for a conference with President Gaal Lont.

You gather in the main hall, and are let in at 10AM.  You see the familiar ceramic table with its various ancient office chairs.  President Gaal Lont sits at the far end.  He is an altered one in his mid 30’s.  Similar to many of the norfo tribe, he has a small fleshy antenna protruding from each temple.  They are more prominent as his head is shaved.  He wears simple fiber clothing with a chocolate brown colored fur cloak.  His hands are sheathed in gloves in which have inset polished pieces of bone.

A true man also sits at the table.  He is perhaps in his 50’s, as his hair and beard are greying.  He wears a set of black colored ancient plastic armor, covered by a grey wool cloak.  (Arvak and Ragnor recognize him as Roman Dell, a member of the Brotherhood of Thought, who initially alerted the tribes to the danger of the cyborg Reavers)

Nelson, the creepy 4′ tall assistant stands motionless nearby.  The guard, Wuss Dog (altered one, previous member of Wootang Clan), stands to one side of the door, sporting a round duralloy sheild, and a sword held at parade rest.

Gaal Lont stands as you enter, smiles at Roman Dell, and gestures towards your group.  “Ahhhh, Akton’s action heros, in the flesh.  Congratulations men, on your impressive success at Middex.  You’ve rescued a whole community with a unique culture.  We are implementing your suggestions to integrate the group to Akton.  We will use a point/achievement based system of military training as suggested by Ragnor to give them real skills and confidence, and town meeting sessions in the evening “off hours” to help ease them into our society, as suggested by Zeebo.  I would ask you to help run these programs, but Akton needs you for a more pressing mission first.  Hmm, I’m getting ahead of myself.”

“For those of you who haven’t met, this is Brother Dell, peacemaker of the Boztun Badlands.  He brings some important news.”  Roman Dell looks up at each of you and smiles, his dark eyes twinkling.  You all feel at complete ease.  “You have done such a fabulous job here in so little time.  Your actions against the Reevers have saved the norfo, the lex, and undoubtedly all of the nearby tribes of the badlands and northern plains.  Since your victory at the Reeming Arena, the Reevers haven’t been seen again.  And I believe I know why.”

He unrolls a map onto the table.  “The King of Stormgate, Eryk Greywulf, is dead.  His younger brother, Hadral, the Arch-Duke of Arpex, is next in line for the throne.  The hitch is that the King died under suspicious circumstances, and the signs point to assassination from Hadral.  Those that value power over ethics have claimed Hadral as the new king.  The nobles that are enraged over this perceived fratricide, have claimed Eryk’s illegitimate son, Baydin, as their king.  The kingdom has fractured into seperate states, bent on civil war.  Malcom, the Duke of Rhodes has not sworn fealty to either camp, and is essentally a neutral independent state.  There is also talk that the moheeka population may return to New Warvale and revolt amonst the chaos.”

“Your analysis of the cyborg programming showed that they were under direct control of Hadral, the Arch Duke of Arpex, one of the “new kings”.  It stands to reason that in this time of crisis, he would recall them from the badlands and use them against his enemies.  Their crisis will bring a rest to your people.  I despise the Stormgate nobles for their oppression and genocide, but I feel bad for the peasants that will suffer from the upcoming war.  It is a shame that we can’t all live in peace.