STORYLINE Archives - Fractured Veil

Merchants Association Offers Bounty On Gaia Guard Members

I had planned on thanking you all for turning out last night at the unveiling of our ethnobotanical garden. I was going to explain to you all how important the over 100 species of endemic and indigenous plants are to the future of Lahaina. It was my intention to announce that we had opened the garden to Kanaka healers from the Mission, in the hopes of developing new medicines for us all. Instead, I’m forced to address what is becoming an all too common event in the past few weeks, the deadly attack on the Ananas Pineapple Farm.

Gaia Guard zealots sent us a message this morning confirming what many of us had already believed. They took responsibility for the latest attack, and promised more unless we, “stop pursuing the agenda of humankind and begin listening to the Earth.” In an attempt to end these senseless attacks and make the island a little safer, The Lahaina Merchants Association is offering a 5,000 rai reward for any information leading to the capture of any Gaia Guard zealot, and a 10,000 rai reward for any member dead or alive.

This was far from the first attack, but it was the deadliest so far. In the past week, Gaia Guard has launched numerous offensives, leading to great loss of life and property.

December 1, 2117:
At approximately 6:15 am a Gaia Guard strike team attacked our Whalanimal production area just south of Black Rock Beach. Five employees were killed in the attack, and many more injured. The perpetrators destroyed more than 200 gallons of Whalanimal Benthic Blue and Whalanimal Scrimshawberry flavors, saying that the drink was, “an abomination!” The group then pushed our brewing carcasses back into the sea, saying that they were letting the whales “go back home to rest.” Filled with proprietary chemicals, they were ignored by wildlife, and the tides took the carcasses out far enough that we could not immediately reach them. Unfortunately, the brewing process continued inside the whales, leading to an unexpected expelling of processing gases, and the unpleasant smell that has been lingering along the beach this week.

December 4, 2117:
A convoy transporting supplies, including over a thousand cans of SSHAM discovered in a newly uncovered portion of the SSHAM factory, was attacked by Gaia Guard zealots who had mined the road. All but one driver was killed in the explosion and ensuing attack. Many of the supplies were stolen and the vehicles were damaged beyond repair. Worst of all, the attackers opened every can of SSHAM in a large pile and set it on fire. The load was burnt so badly that it couldn’t even be repackaged as SSHAM Extra Dark. The surviving driver was told that meat, even from a can, was no longer allowed in Lahaina.

December 5, 2117:
While most of us were celebrating the opening of the garden, the Ananas Pineapple Farm was decimated. There were no survivors. Security cameras show that a brief firefight broke out at 10:00pm with farm personnel being quickly overwhelmed. Gaia Guard members can be seen destroying the pineapple crop and donning protective suits before spreading a substance throughout farm buildings. We now know that the substance was 127. The farm will be closed until proper decontamination procedures can be carried out, and the entire crop was lost.

The message claiming responsibility this morning reads in part:

“The fracture had given our mother the relief that she craved, and for many years the land and water healed, free of the taint of human interference. Our mother created many dangerous children to help keep the infestation from growing too large once again, but we knew we had to continue to stay vigilant and steadfast in our stewardship. Recently, it has become apparent that many of you did not learn anything that the fracture or our Mother has tried to teach you. You use the bodies of some of her most majestic children to brew foul drinks, you eat flesh that you’ve stuffed in cans, and you harvest plants that are not native to the soil, in order to sustain the growing number of parasites on the island. We applaud the opening of your garden of native species. It is proof that you know what is right in your heart, letting our Mother nurture her children in their proper place. Your continued efforts to restore what has been deemed cancerous by the very fabric of existence itself is unacceptable, and we will make sure that any further efforts to rebuild the past end with your deaths.”

As you can clearly see, these zealots need to be stopped. The Lahaina Merchants Association recommends caution when trying to deal with these dangerous individuals, they are armed and exceedingly dangerous. All information, and rewards must be processed through our main office just East of Kalani Beach. The LMA is not responsible for any loss of life or limb while in the pursuit of collecting a Gaia Guard bounty.

December 6, 2117

Let Fractured Hearts Find The Perfect Survival Companion For You

Fractured Hearts is the leading matching service in Lahaina for lonely survivors, Thrivers, Kanaka, or the recently restored. We’ll help you not only find the person right for you, but live long enough to form a lasting relationship. Fractured Hearts’ trained skill assessors and love specialists will score you on 35 points of survival skills and personal traits, to find the perfect companion for you. With clients as far away as Nakalele point, Fractured Hearts is the best way for singles to find a friend and increase their chance of survival. Whether you’re looking for a lasting Lahaina love, a casual crafting partner, or just a friend to guard the perimeter of your heart, for a reasonable monthly charge of 20 rai, we will find someone for you!

Love and relationships were among the biggest casualties of the fracture. Along with governments, and society on the whole, the world of dating was never the same. Many singles still focus on day-to-day concerns like food, water, and shelter, ignoring the need for companionship. However, studies have consistently shown that positive relationships have numerous benefits including: reduction in stress, finding potable water, dealing with adversity, higher pain tolerance, spotting dangers in the forest, and longer life expectancy. We believe that having a loving companion in a post fracture world isn’t just a luxury; It’s a necessity! Isn’t it time you stop surviving and start thriving? Let our Fractured Hearts program make the most of your love life by finding you a companion you can count on when things turn grim.

Who We Are:
Launched in April of 2116, Fractured Hearts has become a pioneer in survival based relationship services, working with all major groups and Houses in the West Maui area. We assess romantic and survival opportunities, allowing singles to find someone who can help them survive the dangers of Lahaina in a loving way. Having founded the island’s premiere institute of learning, the Lahaina College of Love and Literacy, we have almost 65 years experience handling the hearts of Lahaina. Over the years, we’ve learned more about what people want, and the skills they need to make it, than any other institution in the world. We’ll help you survive relationships and the dangers of life with the help of a special friend.

What We Do:
Our goal is simple: we want you to survive the dangers of Lahaina with the kind of relationship that not only please your heart, but compliments your skill set. Not to toot our own horn, but we’re pretty good at it. Every month, we hear from dozens of successful couples from all over the island sharing stories of survival, sending wedding invitations, and announcing the birth of new Houses. We’ve become so successful that you probably already know someone who’s found a companion with Fractured Hearts.

How It Works:
At Fractured Hearts we believe in tough love. It has been our experience that most people are terrible at self assessments, so we do it for you. Our trained skill assessors and love specialists run clients through a number of skill tests and social interactions, to compile an objective profile reflecting 35 love and survival criteria. We understand that the ability to make a fire and fight off a wolf attack are just as important as honesty and a sense of humor for our clients. By matching you with someone who shares your unique personality traits and complimentary survival skills, you can safeguard not only your figurative, but your literal heart as well. To help ensure the safety of our community, every client is screened for radiation, disease, and mutation before they are accepted to the program. But don’t worry! Being found to be …extra special… will just open up a new world of romance with others similarly afflicted.

Can It Work For Me?
We believe everyone deserves love, and a good chance of living a long life. There are many ways to love, but our system is the best way to meet, court, and protect the well-being of that new special person in your life. If you are ready to share a piece of your heart and a cut of your rations, Fractured Hearts is right for you. The course of love has never ran smoothly until now. We can help you find a partner to build a unified team, able to take on whatever life, love, or an angry nightmarcher can throw at you. When all seems lost remember, Fractured Hearts and love can help you find a way.

December 4, 2117

SSB&P Seeks Motivated and Desperate Applicants To Fill Positions Immediately

Since 1975, Suter, Stine, Burn & Partners (SSB&P) has developed a regional and national presence serving a diverse client base with advice and legal counsel. Since the fracturing of the veils, we have expanded our presence to other dimensions as well. Research indicates that we have been the largest law firm in any world for the past 67 years. In that time, we have continued to evolve and grow to meet our client’s needs, even if we have to create and exploit those needs.

Our culture and ruthless desire for success creates a fast paced and dynamic team environment. We offer an aggressively competitive atmosphere, where many employees falter, and a few reap massive rewards. With the recent uptick in restored individuals, we are looking to replace some of our underperforming staff. If you feel like you are better than our worst, or have just run out of options, SSB&P is interested in hearing from you.

Job Summary: Our Interdimensional Innovators are responsible for being SSB&P’s representative in other dimensions, making our firm known to any and all survivors. In this role you will uses zeal, guile, persuasion, and intimidation to assist with a variety of functions such as: serving legal documents, research and settlements, menacing, customer extortion, contracts, and internal/external communication.

Key Responsibilities: (Other random duties as assigned)

Create and maintain an active presence on other worlds that are critical to the firm’s objectives, monitor emotional responses to ensure proper levels of alarm and consistent messaging.
Develop and support the implementation of the organization’s litigation strategy, as well as related guidelines and training for branding.
Relate trends, responses, and expectations through accurate company logs and thorough knowledge of your dimension.
Assist in harassing/punishing those who refuse to comply with our demands and develop metrics to gauge the success of our terror initiatives.
Conduct regular audits of changing environments and power structures to ensure the organization is maintaining an optimal mix of legal maneuvering and physical threats. Informing the main office when new avenues of revenue are revealed.
Deliver subpoenas and threats in a timely manner to meet projected deadlines.

Minimum Requirements:

Self motivated with an ability to survive in a number of unknown environments. Ability to go to any lengths to serve legal documents and return with signed paperwork. (Deep understanding of social psychology, communications, and a sadistic streak preferred)
Extensive familiarity with spotting weaknesses and exploiting them. Familiarity with locks and infiltration techniques a bonus.
Direct, hands-on experience with coercion, or a level of desperation to do anything we ask.
Strong knowledge of social media propaganda and methodologies.
Exceptional customer service skills and undying loyalty to the firm.

Competitive total compensation package includes: clean water, shelter, coffee and muffin bonuses for hitting goals, vacation time, and matching 401k. Company weapon, private sleeping area, and substantial rations available after 90 days.

Successful completion of a personal compliance screening required. This is an entry level position, and does not have any supervisory or leadership responsibilities.

Work Environment:
Operates in a number of hostile conditions, and substantially exposed to adverse environmental conditions. Nearly continuously required to sit, use repetitive hand motion (such as stabbing), hear/listen, talk, run, swim, fight, and stand. Often required to evade angry groups, bend, and lift up to 100 pounds.

Other Duties: Please note this job description is not designed to cover or contain a comprehensive listing of activities, duties, or responsibilities that are required of an Interdimensional Innovator. Duties, responsibilities, and activities may change at any time with or without notice, and on our whim.

SSB&P is an Equal Opportunity Employer and Antagonizer: SSB&P is committed to the principle of employing and intimidating people equally. We provide work that encourages harassment, but is free of discrimination. All employment decisions at SSB&P are based on greed, convenience, and business needs without regard to race, color, religion or belief, national, social, ethnic or dimensional origin, sex (including pregnancy), past or present military service, family medical history or genetic information, or any other status, other than those that would prevent employees from executing our will and overall plans. SSB&P encourages applicants of all ages.

Don’t let the end of civilization be the end of you. With the help of our highly trained and motivated team, your opportunity is deeper than deep, it’s infinite!

November 20, 2117

The Hidden Manimal Mine of Maui Lou

The tunnels, lava tubes, and storage facilities beneath Lahaina have long been popular places for those with an adventurous spirit to explore. Finding supplies and weapons can be very lucrative to those brave or foolish enough to explore these dark places. However, one such location has held the imagination of islanders much more than any other, and it might not even exist. The Hidden Manimal Mine of Maui Lou is a story every child knows, and a dream a handful try to find every year.

Maui Lou was not a well-known man in his time or a successful one. He spent most nights sleeping on the beach beneath the stars, and his days wandering from place to place. When he was younger, Lou dreamed of being a professional surfer, but in his early 50’s the only thing he surfed was couches. And so it would have gone, had it not been for the great fracture. Like so many, the accident awakened something inside Lou and showed him his destiny.

From his time wandering the town, Lou knew many places to seek shelter and the best gardens in Lahaina. He helped many make it through those first terrible weeks and soon found himself with quite a following. While harvesting vegetables from abandoned backyards, and canned foods from demolished stores, was helpful to the survivors, Lou began to believe that they owed their lives to one thing, the hydrating powers of Manimal.

His Manimal obsession and strange beliefs around the drink grew, and his believers followed suit. They began calling themselves “The Quenched”. They believed that in addition to your physical thirst, Maimal could satisfy your emotional and spiritual thirst as well. Under Lou’s leadership, the group followed The Three Tenets: intensity in all actions, ferociousness of thought, and daily acts of daring. The group became famed for its outrageous escapades and chaotic nature.

While they were not openly hostile to others, working with a group of The Quenched was all but impossible. They could not resist climbing tall structures and leaping whenever possible. When exploring an unknown area, it was common for a member of the group to run ahead with a Manimal in each hand, screaming their intentions. Others began to shun the group and refuse to be involved with any project that included the drink-loving fanatics.

Soon, they found themselves outcasts, and it was too much for Lou. He moved his followers to the Mauna Kahalawai mountains and began preaching visions of doom. He told The Quenched that this new world would not be the last. Another great cleansing was on its way, and that in the future the extreme would inherit the Earth. They began expanding an old mine to make it a suitable place to live out the upcoming catastrophe. It is here that the stories diverge.

Some say The Quenched built a gigantic recirculating pool, to hold all the Manimal they had collected over the years at a perfect temperature. Others say they were much too unorganized for such a feat, and simply filled many tanks with Manimal to serve as a source of life-giving hydration, while they waited out the end. Whatever the truth, one thing is certain. When they were done, they hid the entrance and sealed themselves inside with Maui Lou delivering a warning, anyone who were to go inside without believing in the Three Tenets, would find nothing but their doom. The Quenched were never seen again.

There the tale might have ended, a bedtime story for children, had it not been for a Thriver woman named Cork Waltz. By all accounts, Cork was an excellent scrounger and bragged that she came from a long line of treasure hunters. While Cork could find a single wire hidden in a field of pili grass, what she loved finding above all else was Manimal. She was obsessed with the old drink and stories of the mine. Every year, Cork would explore the mountains for a few weeks in the spring, looking for the hidden entrance and return to the jokes and teasing of her friends. Then one year, Cork didn’t return as usual.

Everyone assumed she had been taken by one of the island’s many dangers or had slipped from a cliff. They were overjoyed when she finally made it back, but her pack bursting full of Manimal made them wonder. The usually boisterous Cork remained unusually quiet about where she found the drink as well. When she left again in the morning, the rumors spread quickly.

Over the next few months, Cork would take many long trips, each time returning more intense, and with more Manimal. Her neighbors were now sure that she had found Maui Lou’s Manimal Mine and many tried to follow her. Cork began to take long dangerous routes to throw off any pursuers. The speed and energy she’d display while scrambling up rocks and navigating the narrow twisting trails did little to dispel the rumors, and attempts to follow her always failed. Then a group of trackers happened upon Cork at the bottom of a ravine. Apparently, her attempts to elude her followers finally caught up to her. She had slipped and fallen from a ledge, but before she passed she left some tantalizing clues.

According to the stories, Cork’s lips and hands were stained red with Manimal, although her pack contained no Radical Red flavor. Even more tantalizing, she had scratched a crude map on a rock next to her with the words, “Extreme Refreshment” underneath. Since then, many have searched for the location of the mine without success. There are almost as many copies of the map floating around, as there are people gullible enough to buy them. Still, there just might be a pool of Manimal underground somewhere out there, just waiting for someone brave or foolish enough to go looking for it.

November 10, 2117

Hugh The Hunter Part II

She says the world ended, that the veils fractured and almost everything is gone. She’s in my head. She tells me her name is Saraphim but I can’t remember mine. I can only remember bits. I ask her who, and where I am. She explains that I was backed up, and she is restoring me, like I’m supposed to know what that means. My restorer says she doesn’t know my name either, I’m HU-3501 in the system, and there was some degradation. She wants me to report any problems I have once I’m out of the chair.

I can finally see. I’m in the Wellness Center. I remember my boss giving us certificates for Christmas but can’t recall her name or where I worked. I step out of the machine but there’s no clothes. Saraphim directs me to a locker that is supposed to be filled with complimentary clothing. I see a problem immediately. There’s nothing in here but flowered shirts, those weird looking fishing hats, and cargo pants. I tell her I find it hard to believe that she has the technology to rebuild someone from scratch, but can’t come up with clothing that doesn’t make me look like a 1980’s tourist. She says that there aren’t many survivors, but they all wear stuff like this now. I get dressed and go outside. I don’t believe what I see.

It’s all gone. Everything is in ruin. Saraphim tries to keep me calm, and tells me I need to go out and tell her what I see. I try to remember where home is. I feel like it’s close, but everything is like snapshots of a movie. She starts talking again about degradation, and something about my parietal lobe. I stop listening because coming up the street is a group of about a dozen people. The first thing I notice is that none of them are wearing flowered shirts or floppy hats, contrary to what I was told. Next, I notice how big they are, and that none of them are smiling. They’re all carrying weapons and the biggest one looks at me, yells something, and raises a huge shark-toothed club above his head. I assume I won’t want to hear whatever it is they are going to tell me, and I sprint towards the ruins in front of me. Then, things get crazy.

I hit something with my shin as I start to jump onto a piece of concrete, and there is an explosion behind me. I feel the hot air lift me up, and I land on a piece of flooring jutting out between the second and third floor. I turn around and see another group of people, also not wearing flowered shirts, scrambling out of the rubble around me. My head is ringing. They start climbing. One has an old rusted pistol and takes a shot at me. I see an opening in the adjoining building, and try to make the leap to get away. As I start to push off the ledge, the whole thing comes crashing down. Somehow, I stay upright, and the debris covers up the people who were hiding in the rubble. I’m in shock about what just happened, and that I’m still standing. Their cheers bring me to my senses. Before I know it, I’m surrounded, getting slaps on my back, and big hugs. It’s like I had just won the lava sledding championships for the Blue Wolves. I try to ask who they are, but nothing comes out. I don’t understand everything they’re saying either, but they’re all smiling now. Saraphim says she’ll keep working on it, but my condition might be permanent. They motion for me to follow, and since they are the first people I’ve met who haven’t tried to kill me, I go with them. The big one with the club says his name is Kanaka.

It turns out that the whole group is called the Kanaka, not just the big guy. Their village is amazing. It’s set along the ocean and has everything you need. The one thing that I can’t find no matter how hard I look, is anyone wearing one of these stupid hats. I soon realize that we won’t be able to communicate with words. With Saraphim’s help I manage to scribble my number, HU-3501, in the sand to see if anyone knows what it is. Nobody does, but they all start calling me Hugh.

They seem to think that I’m some sort of avenging spirit, and I do absolutely nothing to convince them otherwise. We spend days practicing with spears, machetes, and clubs. They have a couple shotguns too, but we don’t use them. I assume ammo is hard to come by. Maybe it’s something about my new implant, but I feel like I’m getting pretty good with a machete after only a few days. Everyone treats me with reverence and respect. I have all the poke and pineapple I can eat, and I get to play with weapons in the surf whenever I want. I can’t fully remember what I used to do, but I’m sure it was nowhere near as cool as this. However, nothing lasts forever and about a week into my new awesome life, a group of well armed people arrive.

Things are tense between the Kanaka and these new people for a few minutes. I think they might be what’s left of the military but they’re not wearing uniforms, or anything that remotely resemble my tourist clothing. They’re all very well armed. Maybe they’re a bunch of preppers. I guess my crazy cousin Ted was right after all. I wonder how many years of liquor he had stored up in his Duracave bunker when civilization collapsed, just like he always knew it would. They want help with something, and my friends agree. Everyone grabs some gear, and they hand me a machete before we head out into the forest.

We end up at a big building that looks like a Halloween nightmare. There’s skulls everywhere outside. Some whispering and pointing begins. I’m not sure what there is to talk about. We better not be….of course we’re going inside. Why wouldn’t we? I feel like we’re the group in the horror movie who decides to go investigate the basement when we should clearly just go home. The inside is worse. There’s heads mounted on the walls, it’s dark, and I can’t think of one good reason why we should be in here. Then monsters come running towards us, honest to god, real monsters. Gunfire starts and the Kanaka start hacking away. I look at the stairs to the left, and run up. I’ve only been back a little over a week, and there is no way that I’m going to get killed fighting monsters this soon.

I find a nice desk to hide under with a view below. My buddies are really slicing through them, and the people with guns are mowing them down almost as fast as the monsters are springing up, almost. Pretty soon they are surrounded, and start pulling back. I stand up to meet the team at the bottom of the stairs, when I see a really big creature knock a desk in front of the door, and block the Kanaka’s exit. I can see they’re scared. That makes me scared. If this thing kills them, I’ll be trapped in here. I think about how good I’ve gotten with my machete, and ask Saraphim if she could bring me back again if something were to happen to me.

She says she probably could, but advises against doing anything stupid. I tell her stupid choices are the only ones I have right now. I jump from my hiding spot with the machete above my head. I swing down as hard as I can when I land, and it almost takes the things leg off. I tumble in front of it, and scramble to my feet facing my friends. The look of amazement on their faces is priceless. I give them a thumbs up, and turn around to look at my handiwork. The last thing I remember is seeing the thing lurch up on its ruined leg, grab my head and twist.

It was not a painless death. Saraphim is not happy with my decision. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get the materials to bring you back? These bodies aren’t exactly easy to make.” I get out of the machine and start getting dressed. I guess the flowered shirts aren’t that bad. Besides, it’s like my costume now. I can’t wait to see what they’re going to do when Hugh The Hunter returns from the dead. I start walking back to the village, and Saraphim says, “Please, try a little harder to not lose your head this time.”

November 8, 2117

Hugh The Hunter Part I

There are many legends on the island and many mysterious events every day, but one of the most recent is the appearance of strangers dressed in the clothing of the old. The Kanaka have come to call them “The Tourists,” because of their brightly colored shirts and their large old-style hats. Many of my people believe that they are the spirits of those lost in the great fracture, returned to help the brave and warn the trustworthy of danger. However, I now suspect their presence has a much more technological basis than a mystical one.

The Kanaka had no stories of The Tourists and I personally did not believe the reports until a group of hunters in my village brought one back. We call him Hugh, and many of our bravest owe their lives to his reckless courage. We still know little about his life before, or where he comes from, but he has become an important ally and guardian of my village.

For weeks we had heard the stories. Strangers with strange clothing were appearing across the island. While there are few pleasant surprises anymore, stories of encounters with the Tourists were wonderful. Tales of their courage and deeds spread quickly. Kanaka talked of Tourists emerging from the forest and shooting enemies. A village to the North claimed that one jumped from a hill to attack a herd of boars, who were menacing a group of children collecting shells. There was even a tale of a Tourist who took up residence with a group of Thrivers and made items from the days of old.

It is with these stories fresh in their minds that our hunters went out one day to look for supplies. They planned on targeting the area around the old wellness center, because of the many untouched buildings buried in the rubble. When they arrived, they got quite a shock. Standing in front of the center was a man in a flowered shirt, wearing a bucket hat, with a bag across his shoulder. It was a Tourist.

The hunters stopped and called out. They raised their weapons above their heads and shouted a greeting, as is our custom. Instead of shouting back a greeting, the Tourist ran quickly to a collapsed building to the North. At first, the hunters were confused, this did not appear to be one of the brave and mystical warriors of the past they had heard about. Then the explosions went off.

They had almost walked into a bandit trap, but the Tourist had tripped the mines hidden alongside the road. He jumped just at the right time, and the force of the detonation lifted him up onto a piece of flooring jutting out of the side of the building. The bandits poured out like angry ants and tried to scramble up towards the colorfully dressed man above them. The Tourist walked to the edge of the flooring and the whole thing came down. He rode the wave of debris like he was Layla Kalani herself, drowning the bandits in rubble and exposing an opening in the building.

For a few seconds, nobody moved or said a thing. The Tourist brushed off his clothing and looked at the Kanaka who began to cheer. It was one of the most amazing things they had ever seen. Not only had the stranger saved them from an ambush, he had done it without a weapon, and had opened a way into a building that had been buried since the fracture. The stories about the Tourists were true!

He was unable to speak but seemed to understand us. The only communication he was capable of was scribbling, “HU-3501” in the sand. We called him Hugh. The elders debated what his scribblings meant as the hunters tried to learn what they could from him, but Hugh was clever. He pretended to know nothing about fighting. Like all great teachers, he let his students show him what they knew by teaching him.

So it went for almost a week, when a group of Thriver guards came to the village and announced that they had found Mea ‘ohi, the great trophy collector, using the old train station as a lair. For decades the King of the trophy collectors and his court had terrorized the island and collected the heads of many. In addition to his remarkable strength, Mea ‘ohi was very cunning for his kind and never stayed in one place for long. While it was extremely dangerous, the Thrivers thought that together we had a chance to finally rid the island of the horror of the great collector, and avenge all those he had killed. We looked at Hugh and knew we had more than a good chance with his help. Our best hunters and Hugh gathered weapons and set off with the Thriver guards.

The hunters could tell right away that the Thrivers were right. Skulls littered the steps leading into the station. Inside the walls were adorned with heads of all types. Bear, boar, wolf, and shrig were mixed in amongst the human head decorations. The inside of the station had been rearranged. Chest-high barricades of tables, desks, and chairs filled the lobby. A pair of trophy collectors rushed forward towards the group incredibly fast. The Thrivers got off what shots they could before the Kanaka engaged the monstrosities, while Hugh ran up the stairs.

The hunters dispatched one of their opponents quickly and gave chase to the other, with the Thrivers covering their back. More monsters poured in and the fighting became fierce. Teeth and claws tearing, as clubs swung and bullets rained out. Soon there were so many that even the Thrivers were forced to fight hand to hand. The hunter’s weapons were covered in the vile blood of the beasts, and their arms began to burn, but still, the creatures came, and Hugh was nowhere in sight. The Thrivers screamed that they should pull back and the hunters begrudgingly agreed, but as they tried to make their way, Mea ‘ohi finally appeared.

The hulking terror knocked over a wall of tables by the doors and stood before the remaining heroes. His cracked lips curled into a huge toothy grin knowing that the hunters were trapped inside, and he would soon have more decorations. At that moment, the Thrivers and hunters knew that they would never see their homes again. They had underestimated the creature. It was over. Just as the last of their hope was draining from them, they saw something miraculous. It was Hugh.

He lept from the floor above, digging his machete deep into Mea ‘ohi’s thigh, and tumbled as he hit the floor. The beast fell to his knees behind him, and Hugh sprung to his feet smiling. The other trophy hunters screamed and ran into the depths of the station. Hugh turned just in time to see the monster reach out. Mea ‘ohi grabbed him, and twisted off his head in one quick motion, screaming in fury and pain. Hugh’s sacrifice rallied the heroes. They could not let him die in vain. The Thrivers filled the beast’s chest with bullets and the Kanaka surged forward finishing him off.

Hugh had saved them again, even though it cost him his life. The group decided to leave before the rest of the creatures regrouped, but took Mea ‘ohi’s head as a trophy of their own. The Thrivers thanked the hunters for their help and left to return to their outpost.

While the village was excited that such a terrible danger had been removed, it had cost the lives of many, including Hugh. They gave them all a ceremony fitting for heroes and loaded their remains into a canoe together so that they could continue to protect each other in the next world. As custom, the village stayed up all night sharing stories about the ones they lost, and they wondered what would happen to Hugh. Would his spirit continue to travel with the Kanaka he fell protecting? We got our answer this morning just before dawn.

We were all very tired when he walked up to the fire and sat down. Many rubbed their eyes in disbelief. Hugh just sat smiling and pointed out towards the train station, made a chopping motion, and gave a thumbs up. I’m not sure how or why Hugh is back, but I’m glad that he is. I have a feeling we will have many more adventures

November 7, 2117

Lahaina Merchants Association Reopens Public Kalua Pits

For the past 10 years you’ve counted on the Lahaina Merchants Association’s public roasting pits to provide a safe and convenient place to cook large meals for your friends and family. We understand that our kalua pits have become like a second kitchen for many of you, and you’ve come to trust the Association’s commitment to safeguarding this valuable public resource. This trust was tested recently, and we had to temporarily close down this important service. We apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused. However, we are excited to announce that we have opened the pits to the public again, and have installed new safety measures and procedures to ensure your continued protection.

It is an accepted fact that cooking in a ground oven, or imu, produces some of the best tasting meat you can imagine. For thousands of years our ancestors have been using heated rocks and pit ovens to slow cook communal meals, and it has become a staple technique for traditional Hawaiian cooking. Unfortunately, like everything else, the fracture has made this style of food preparation dangerous.

Digging a properly sized pit can be a time-consuming process, and can lead to a lack of vigilance, making you an easy target. Gathering enough heating stones, and carrying them back can slow you down if you need to leave an area in a hurry. While there is no doubt that the smell will attract neighbors from far and wide, it can also attract many unwanted guests like Nightmarchers or Menehune. Our public kalua pits removed these concerns and had a flawless track record until last week.

There have been many rumors circling around about the exact nature of the incident that forced us to halt operations. Some of these rumors have been quite outlandish, so please allow us to set the record straight and explain precisely what happened.

As I’m sure you are aware, we have always had an “if it has four legs you can roast it” policy. Meals can be hard to come by, and we understand that sometimes your options are limited. The flaw in this policy was highlighted with a perfect storm of mishaps. A recently restored traveler decided to cook a tainted wolf in one of the pits and failed to cover it properly. This would have been bad enough on its own, but the individual also didn’t fully understand the process and used stones they had gathered themselves from a nearby stream. These stones shattered with enough force to spread radioactive wolf meat on everything and everyone in the area, forcing us to shut down.

Thanks to our quick and decisive action, nobody was injured or became ill, but it did show us that we can do better. We have permanently filled in the pit in question and have scrubbed the area of all lingering radiation. The picnic area now falls well within safe levels for long-term exposure. We have hired more onsite help to make sure everyone stays safe and the new rules are being followed. In addition, outside materials can no longer be used in the pits. We will provide complimentary stones and burlap for anyone using the imus. For all the traditionalists, taro, banana, and ti leaves are available for a modest charge.

Regrettably, we have had to put an end to our “four legs” policy. To help ensure the safety of others, we now allow only: pig, deer, fish, rabbits, geese and mea-moa pods to be roasted in the area. However, we are offering a wide variety of spices and flavorings for purchase, to help you kick up the flavor a notch without the potential of contamination.

Finally, we have installed a food testing station to help alleviate any lingering fears you might have. This is a free service for any customer using our imus, and is available to the public in general for a nominal fee.

We apologize again for any difficulty this closure has caused and hope that we can win back your confidence. I believe these new safety guidelines and offerings will only make our service better. We thank you for your continued support and patronage. It’s a dangerous world out there but we’re doing our best to make it safer for you and your family. I can’t promise that you’ll never be covered in the half-raw exploded bits of a radioactive wolf in your life again, only that it won’t happen around our kalua pits.

September 20, 2117

The Lost Submarines of Simon Kai

Living on an island and being so connected to the water, it is no surprise that so many Kanaka legends focus on boats and the sea. We are taught how to read the currents and how to follow the seabirds to find land at an early age. Every young Kanaka knows the story of the great fisherman Lawai’a. We learn why we should avoid the Eldridge, resting on its mountain perch with her ghostly crew, cursed to never sail again. One legend however has a special place in the hearts of all adventurous Kanaka children and has been the bane of many concerned mothers. It is the story of the lost submarines of Simon Kai.

It was once said that the difference between a child and an adult was the price of their toys, and so it was with Simon Kai. Before the fracture, those of great wealth would spend exorbitant amounts on boats, cars, and homes, but some preferred something more unique. Kai collected anything related to ocean exploration and his warehouses on Lanai were bursting with: cameras, specially made diving equipment, and automated deep-sea rovers, but submarines were his passion.

A man of great means, Kai’s submarine collection was impressive indeed with examples from many different eras. His estate resembled a maritime museum more than a home. Although many would consider him eccentric, he was a very popular figure on the island. He would give tours of his collection to tourists or anyone who seemed interested. His pride and joy was a 60-foot long luxury sub he called the Kanaloa, named after the Hawaiian god of the ocean. Being a personal friend of Eric Oeming, the creator of the veil, it was not unusual for Kai to ferry Veilcorp guests around in his ship. But the Earth didn’t care about money or status on the day of the great accident. Three days after the fracture, a giant flood hit Lanai and delivered at least one of his submarines to Lahaina.

According to the stories, one found its way to Kalani beach and was discovered by a group of Veilcorp scientists who began repairing the beached metal beast. It took months for them to seal the cracks in the hull and to rebuild the broken propeller. Unfortunately for them, others had been watching their efforts as well.

The Tappers came early, shrouded in the morning mist. Most of the scientists never made it inside, and those that did were not spared. The submarine now rests just offshore, buried in the reef. Some say that the Tappers use it as an underwater cache and have dug a tunnel that connects to the bottom of the boat. Others believe the ship contains only the skeletons of scientists and whatever secrets and hopes they held.

It was 20 years before another one of Kai’s subs was discovered. A group of Kanaka fishermen found the great yellow machine tangled in their nets one morning and paddled it to their village. They named it Hilina’i after the whale in the story of Lawai’a. Even though we Kanaka do not revere technology in the same way the Thrivers do, the usefulness of a working submarine was apparent. For years the Hilina’i could be seen cruising off the coast helping fisherman and rescuing those in bad weather. When Chief Ikaika began his campaign against the horrors born of the fracture, the Hilina’i joined the cause.

Those who were at the Battle of Black Rock Beach, say that when the ship rose from the water like some great avenging spirit, adorned with the markings of war, it broke the morale of the enemy and they fled. Unfortunately for the Hilina’i, the Kanaka embrace celebration with the same vigor as they do battle. The ship survived the great accident, 40-years adrift around the islands, and a year-long war, but it could not survive the carelessness of an overindulged crew. The sub sank on its way back home and still remains visible to all as a reminder to always remain vigilant, especially after a victory.

Rumors persist that more of Kai’s submarines lay hidden, waiting to be discovered. It is common for groups of Kanaka children to walk the beaches and explore hidden coves in the hopes of finding one of the lost ships. Some even say that Kai himself survived the fracture and the lights sometimes seen in the bay are him traveling in the Kanaloa searching for the rest of his fleet. Most laugh at such an idea, but in the past people also laughed at the idea of boats that could navigate underwater and being able to travel across the world in the blink of an eye. The world has seen many wonders before and it will see wonders again. The lost submarines of Simon Kai remain one of the most beloved Kanaka legends and have led many to wonder about their fate.

Bruddah Lee

Kanaka Historian

August 3, 2117

The Kanaka Guide To Green Ladies

The Fracture didn’t just destroy much of the old world, it produced a number of new problems for we Kānaka to overcome. Many animals grew large and angry. Water and food became scarce. On top of that, a number of creatures were born to test our strength. The Menehune scuttle in the dark dismantling anything they find working and taking down the unwary. The Night Marchers use their brute strength, speed, and cunning to hunt us like animals for food. But there is one new horror born after the fracture that the Kānaka fear most, the Green Ladies.

The accident tore down and damaged people as well as buildings. According to the legends the Kānaka rebuilt themselves with the power of the land itself, giving them a good foundation and making them strong and resilient. The Green Ladies however fortified themselves with the darkness and seclusion of the deep forest, some people say that they came out of the labs in the old train station, but they seem to avoid this area.

From a distance you might make the misfortune of confusing a Green Lady for a person. They appear like tall women with green skin. Thorny vines surround their bodies and sweet smelling flowers bloom from their hair. Some say that the color of the flowers represent different kinds of Green Ladies with different abilities, but most think it’s just a natural variation like your hair.

They are excellent mimics and can make the calls of many birds and animals. Their voices sound like the wind rustling through the leaves or the howling of a storm when they are angry. The stories say that they are unable to speak but can communicate by talking directly in your mind. A Green Lady is a master of camouflage and almost completely silent in the jungle, so chances are if you see one it is because she is hunting you.

Green Ladies seem to have a symbiotic relationship with the vines that surround them. During the day they spend most of their time absorbing energy from the sun and can sit perfectly still in one spot for many hours. They say that man can not live on bread alone, and so to is the sun inadequate for the needs of these creatures. They need blood, preferably from the young.
The Kānaka say they prefer the blood of the young because it contains the most vitality. Newuskin blood is a particular favorite. The Thrivers on the other hand, say the preference is because there are specific molecules in old blood that inhibit cell development, but they thought the veil was safe too, so who knows.

The monsters are incredibly fast and can move quickly through the deepest brush. Their speed and erratic movements make them incredibly hard to target with a firearm. Your best weapon against a Green Lady is a large group. Your second best weapon is some sort of chopping instrument or fire. They have a great fear of flames.

Unlike the other horrors bred from the fracture, Green Ladies retain much of their intelligence, twisted as it is. There are many stories about people making deals with the creatures trading blood for safety or some service. The old story of the Green Lady of Keali’i Gulch is one such example. Just like in the story, an agreement made with one of these creatures is unlikely to turn out well, as they can hear your surface thoughts making lying difficult.

Unlike the Night Marchers, Green Ladies are exceedingly cautious. They tend to pick off stragglers and lone wanderers making your best defense against them a large group. Because they rely on the sun to build up energy they are most active at night. In fact, a well fed Green Lady is unlikely to attack if you pass near one in the day time.

To stay safe in Green Lady territory there are a couple of quick and easy rules: go out an hour after sunrise, go home at least an hour before dark, carry a way to make a fire, only travel in groups, and if you suddenly smell flowers or hear the sound of the wind when it’s not blowing don’t run. Not because it is going to trigger the predatory instincts of the Green Lady about to drain your blood, but because it’s already too late.

June 6, 2117

The Green Lady of Keali’i Gulch

According to Kānaka legend, there used to be a large farm near Keali’i Gulch. Hana farm was well-known in the area for a number of reasons. It was one of the few places on the island relatively untouched by the fracture. The farm became a sanctuary for the entire extended family and many of their neighbors. The Hana’s become famous for the incredible fecundity of their land. The taro grew huge. All the fruit was amazingly sweet. The quality of the crops garnered a premium and the family did quite well for a period of time. Then the sickness began and people began to whisper about a curse.

At the end of that first year, everyone on the farm began to fall ill. It wasn’t long before some of the hired help started to have accidents. Between the misfortune in the fields and the mysterious sickness, the Hana’s soon found themselves working the farm alone. Tragedy continued to follow the family until only the grandmother and a group of 12 grandchildren remained. The collection of cousins and siblings kept the farm running, but it was a shadow of its former self.

While many avoided the family and farm, one of the village boys, Kahale Wiwo’ole, became good friends with Pualani the eldest granddaughter. The pair would often be found together talking about the farm and the future. One day the teenagers had been out too late making plans for Pualani’s birthday. The girl was turning 16 and Kahale was planning something special. They arrived around dinner time, and Grandmother Hana was not pleased. “Pualani! Where have you been? Why is that boy here so late? It will be dark soon and you know how tired you all get after dinner. Make him go home,” she yelled.

Kahale kissed the girl on the cheek and told her he’d see her in the morning. That night he tossed and turned. He couldn’t figure out why Grandmother Hana had been so mad. He and Pualani had been friends for years. Mostly, he thought about how embarrassed his friend had looked and decided he would sneak out to make sure she was alright.

It was easy for Kahale to find the farm even in the dark. He snuck around back and tapped lightly on the window. He tapped again and again, but nothing happened. Lifting the window, he crawled inside only to find all the beds empty. Opening the bedroom door just a crack he couldn’t believe what he saw.

All the children were still seated at the table, but they were all in a deep sleep. Pualani’s grandmother stood behind her with a hollow ipu gourd. The boy had to cover his mouth when he saw the woman pull a large thorn from a pocket, and poke the back of his friend’s neck. She filled the gourd with blood and walked to the front door without a word.

After she left, Kahale rushed to his friend to make sure she was ok. He couldn’t wake her up but was reassured that Pualani was still breathing, and decided to see where grandmother Hana was going. Sneaking out the door, he could see her walking through the fields towards the jungle, and decided to follow. The woman stopped abruptly. He was afraid that she had heard him, but then he noticed something moving. A tall green woman wrapped in vines, with flowers in her hair appeared from the foliage. “I have your drink,” the grandmother said before handing over the gourd. A sound like wind blowing through the branches came from the woman, and the scent of jasmine and gardenia filled the air, but she never spoke. “Yes, I know our bargain. She will be 16 tomorrow and I will bring her. As you are fed, so shall you feed our fields,” the grandmother said and bowed low. The green lady was gone as suddenly as she appeared, and the elder Hana walked back to the house.

Kahale didn’t sleep that night and waited for Pualani on the trail leading to town. The frightened young man tried to explain to his friend what he had seen, but Pualani didn’t believe him. When he mentioned the wound on the back of her neck they found that it had somehow healed overnight. He begged the girl to stay with his family, but she refused and angrily ran back to the farm.

Kahale didn’t know what to do. If Pualani didn’t believe him what chance did he have convincing anyone else? He hardly believed it himself. He walked home to try and figure out what to do. All day he paced back and forth and read through old books trying to find an answer. Finally, his uncle asked the obviously troubled boy what was wrong, and why he wasn’t with his friend on her birthday. Exhausted and out of options, Kahale broke down and told him what he had seen. Instead of laughing or accusing the boy of dreaming, Kahale’s uncle grabbed him by the arm and went to get help.

Just before nightfall Kahale and a group of the villagers raced to the farm. They arrived just in time to see grandmother Hana pushing Pualani in a wheelbarrow through the fields. Just as before, the green lady stepped out of the foliage and reached out towards the unconscious girl. Before she could touch her, one of the villagers screamed out and the creature froze. A deafening scream came from deep inside the green lady and she grabbed grandmother Hana. Everyone watched in horror as the creature drained the old woman in seconds until she was a dried husk.

The beast ran into the jungle with the villagers giving chase. They cornered her in a cave and decided to build a big fire at the entrance to smoke her out. By morning a few of the bravest ventured inside, but all they found was some bones and a tangle of thorny vines with a blood-red wilted flower in the center. Pualani recovered as did the rest of the children. They moved to the village and their ancestors can still be found there today. The green lady of Keali’i gulch was never seen again. People still farm the surrounding lands, but they are very careful to always be home at least 2 hours before dark.

May 7, 2117