- "I don't care about your damn sob-story, now you oldimers get the hell outta here."
- ―A guard at Long Pine Trading Post giving the group its name
|Group type:||Mercenary Company|
|Location(s):||Seattle Ruins, Cascadia|
|Notable members:||George Pitts, Arthur Finn, "General" Chase|
The Oldtimers formed from survivors from two distinct groups; the ghouls of the Immortals, a band of pre-war soldiers fighting to restore order to Boise; and the isolationist paramilitary of Greer's Bunch, a group descended from a national guard unit. The two groups had little to no contact with each other during their existences, but would come together at the Long Pine Trading Post. The Immortals there had been serving as additional protection, but the Bunch survivors came as refugees, fleeing lasers and death.
Both bearing grudges against the Brotherhood and coming from military backgrounds, the two groups would bond over the two weeks the refugees could stay. They would both be forced out of the relative safety of the Trading Post after the ghouls' contract ended, leaving them with nowhere to go. The two groups decided to put their heads together before settling on a tentative plan. Captain Pitts, the leader of the Immortals, gave a rousing speech that night about the state of their mission, and the need to withdraw from the city.
While a foreign notion to the urbanites of the Bunch, Sergeant Finn, the man who had recommended the treatment of these ghouls as monsters, agreed that it was for the best. The two groups would set off the next morning, heading north out of Boise. They would exit the city two days later, but never stopped moving until the third night after they left the Trading Post. It was then that Finn asked what their next move was.
It was silent briefly before Pitts spoke up, saying he intended to continue to Seattle. Several others began to agree, and the entire group would agree, with the exception of the Mr. Gutsy the Immortals brought. It was persuaded by the implication of a promotion, however, and the robot would eagerly take a point. The Oldtimers would take their first contract as mercenaries in the town of Darn's Hope, which was suffering from raider attacks. Having run out of food the day before, they reluctantly agreed.
Figuring the easiest way to catch these raiders would be to ambush them, the mercenaries stayed for two weeks, finding room and board in several homes. When the raiders showed up from their tribute, they were surprised by gunfire coming from all sides, and were killed with no bloodshed on the Oldtimers' part. The mayor of the town congratulated them, but said that they had eaten up most of their profits, and the rest had already been converted into food for them.
They would begrudgingly take what food was given and continued, crossing into Oregon on November 10th, 2283. They continued to trek west, fighting cold winds and territorial tribals the whole time. They would be forced to winter in the ruins of Baker City, fighting off the snow as well as raiders. Having little to do in their downtime but drill, they would break out of the city when the snow began to thaw, punching through the raider lines and continuing on their way. They would have to fight two other raider gangs on the freeway, before being forced off by a collapsed span.
They continued on the ground and would arrive in Tea, a small trade post in the ruins of an I-84 rest area. Tea was the jumping off point for merchants heading south on 'The Trail' to settlements in the south, or even to supply factions in war-torn Boise. This often brought the attention of tribals, with one warband targeting every caravan coming from the north.
Jumping at the supplies offered, the mercs headed off the interstate, splitting up to hunt for the warcamp. They mixed their parties, with "General" Chase heading the Western group and Finn heading the Eastern. They would come upon it around the same time, finding it built around the pre-war traffic jam that sat on the road. Using walkie-talkies to discuss it, they would fall upon the camp, catching the tribals at a meal and unaware. After the slaughter, they took the heads of who looked prominent and returned them to Tea.
While a bit more grisly than the merchants were wanting, they honored their deal and gave the Oldtimers the promised bounty. With fresh supplies and parts, the mercs also managed to get hired on to a caravan heading north. They would be attacked their third night out, their camp attacked by wild dogs. At first able to fight them off, the mutants would return an hour later.
With a seemingly larger pack, they quickly overpowered the merchants on watch and fell on those sleeping. The Oldtimers had chosen the far side of the wagons as theirs and were able to wake and defend themselves before the dogs got to them. By the time the sun rose the next morning three of the merchants, and two of their guards were dead, with the rest all bearing injuries. In addition, they had also lost one of the brahmin, and would have to pull the wagon themselves.
The mercenaries managed to fare better, though several of them did suffer multiple bites to their legs. When the caravan arrived at their village three days later, the merchants claimed they couldn't afford to pay them for their work. The Oldtimers were disgruntled and started to complain, prompting an impromptu militia to form from villagers. Not wanting a bloodbath, Pitts called them his men off with Finn reluctantly agreeing, and they walked away from the town empty handed.
Hungry, they continued on the highway, the dreams of faraway Seattle the only thing feeding them some nights. They would catch a break when they spotted a herd of Bleaters crossing the road in front of them. Downing two of the creatures, the mercenaries ate there and packaged some before continuing on the road. Spotting smoke off of an exit, they followed it to a small settlement.
Finding farmers burning the field wastes, they walked to the edge of town and told the villagers they were friendly. Since it was not an uncommon sight to see armed bands on The Trail, the villagers invited them to stay in town if they liked. The mercenaries took their offer but told them they had no money to pay for anything. The villagers waved it off, stating that if they worked, they ate.
The mercenaries would toil in the fields with the villagers the rest of that day, and partook in their meals that night, as well as sleeping in their homes. The travelers would learn this wasn't completely from their heart, as a band of tribals marched into the village shortly before noon.
The leader barked out orders for their tribute to be prepared, and the villagers to prepare their homes to be searched. Being nearby, Finn told two of the men to cover him as he walked to the tribal to parley. He explained he was the executive officer for a mercenary band that was staying in town, and asked if they also had to pay the tribute. The tribal responded by slapping the young man and demanded he kneel.
The mercenary responded by diving to the side, signaling to his men to fire, their automatic rifles cutting down the clustered group of tribals. Pitts and the others came running from the river, weapons in hand. Seeing the others, Finn explained what had happened, followed by asking the villagers who they were.
The chief explained that they were from the Wind Weeper tribe, and had demanded tribute the week before, threatening violence. The chief then apologized for using the mercs, before offering them caps for protection. The tribe would send a larger warband he explained, and the town couldn't stop them on it's own.
Despite their gut feelings, the mercs would accept due to their need for supplies. They stayed in the village for a week, each day tenser as they waited. The tribals would strike when the mercenaries put down their guard, as a traveling merchant came into the village. The tribals, who had been camping around the town for days, moved in as they saw the mercs go to the newcomers.
Almost as soon as ammunition was distributed the tribals let out a collective roar as they charged in. A handful of villagers were killed before the mercenaries and caravan guards could react and meet the attackers. The resulting battle was quick and hectic, with the Oldtimers pushed back by the sheer ferocity of the attack.
The tribals pursued them to the banks of the Powder River, which the Mercenaries decided to cross. Fording it as quick as they could, they would watch Corporal Lowell be hacked apart by tribal axes and left to drift downstream. Unable to take the vengeance they desired, the remaining mercenaries retreated further before making camp.
Taking stock, they counted all present except for Lowell, and about a week's worth of food and ammo. Many, including Finn and Pitts wanted to march into the tribal camp and slaughter them, but they would surprisingly be calmed by "General" Chase, who told them of the heavier losses they would sustain, and the imperative to reach Seattle.
Deflated, the organics realized he was right and continued north. They would camp in the ruins of Pendleton for the winter, leaving in February of 2285. They would cross the border into Washington the next month, marked only by a few shots at a family of Jackalope.
They would be confronted and extorted by several raider bands and militias on this leg of The Trail, but kept calm and went along with it. They would finally lay eyes on the city in August, and the sight decidedly underwhelmed them. Ruins stretching for miles and only a few signs of civilization in between, the stomachs of the mercenaries sank. Pitts would attempt a quick pep-talk before asking them to descend to the city with him. With no other real choice, they followed him and saw that it wasn't all bad.
Similar to Boise, gunshots and explosions could be heard throughout the city, but so could singing, laughter, and music. The mercenaries would camp in a long-abandoned deli that night, thinking hard about the future. They would choose unanimously to stay that next morning, and made their way to Emerald City to spread the word.
Since then, the Oldtimers have been available to hire for almost any group or individual in Cascadia, their previous experience helping them fit in just fine.
Captain George Pitts
Gaining the rank of Captain after the death of his CO Donald Ford, George Pitts had leadership thrust upon him. Cynical and overwhelmed, Pitts nonetheless managed to lead his small group effectively enough to gain the respect of the survivors of Greer's Bunch and help form the Oldtimers. Pitts serves as the group's de facto leader because of his higher rank but refers to Sergeant Finn and others before making important decisions. He was the person that suggested the Oldtimers go to Seattle and is currently searching for whatever remains of his pre-War life in Seattle.
Sergeant Arthur Finn
The highest ranked survivor of Greer's Bunch, Arthur Finn is an experienced leader with many surface patrols under his belt. Despite relaying the hostility of the Immortals, he has grown very close to the ghouls. He finds himself in his element in the ruins of Seattle, the urban sprawl calling back his time in Boise.
The last surviving Mr. Gutsy of the Immortals nicknamed "Chase", it has been suffering from rampancy for centuries. Chase believes itself to be a full General, and the leader of the Oldtimers, becoming irate if either belief is questioned. Despite this, he remains a potent fighting machine, and is willing to defer to his subordinates.
Activities & Interests
Their original activities revolved around traveling and surviving, often forced to forage as they trekked west. They would also whore themselves to settlements or individuals that could afford the payment. Since arriving in Seattle, their time has been spent pursuing contracts to improve the city, though sometimes the members' opinions differ on the subject.
A popular hobby for the Oldtimers is telling stories together, a holdover from its members from Greer's Bunch. The former Immortals were at first skeptical of this tradition but later decided to join them in telling stories of the past such as the Reclamation of Anchorage, the Great War, the continually declining state of Boise, and even just mundane parts of pre-War life. In doing this, the ghouls formed a greater bond with their fellow mercs and brought them all closer as a group.
- "The Army can kiss my ass!"
- ―Ghoul squatter upon seeing the Oldtimers approach
- "Oldtimers are an odd bunch, but they keep the caravans running."
- ―Geiger caravaner about the Oldtimers mercenary services
- "Good fellows, a bit gruff but set on boosting hedons in their way."
- ―Reginald Morington on the Oldtimers
- "Well, I'm going to Seattle. Anyone who wants to join me is free to tag along, even Chase."
- ―Captain George Pitts speaking his mind on where he wanted to go
- "ARE YOU QUESTIONING MY GOD-GIVEN AUTHORITY, YOU PENCIL-PUSHING, FUDGE-PACKING SIMPLETON?"
- ―General Chase chewing out a guard in Emerald City skeptical of his status as general
- "Ehh, better than that cunt Miles."
- ―Bunch survivor on their current status