There is a place, not too far from here, where people go to die. They don’t plan on dying, it just ends up that way.
The Pylon is a marker, a goal post, a flag at the top of the castle. Raiders come from all around for a chance to secure it. The overlook with its sweeping views and clear strategic location are practically irresistible. The storeroom of the communications tower is filled with food and medicine which call to the myriad groups of Raiders like a beacon. They come in waves. First one group will attack the walls, be repelled for a time until the Raiders who took the Pylon make some mistake or other. Then, in goes one group and up comes another to fight them for the fortress.
Some groups have held it for quite a long time; days, weeks and even months. Some aren’t quite that lucky and get driven out the day they make camp. Either way, most of us don’t pay much attention. If the Raiders are out there fighting each other that means they’re mostly too busy to come bothering decent folks.
Mostly.
-A
