[X] You captured one of the mutated animals from the wilderness and kept it as a pet. But no matter how much time passed it never grew tame though it did grow larger. One day your pet escaped its cage and bit you (You still have the scars on your arm) forcing you to put it down. That's when you knew that mundane means would never tame them.
Your early childhood was rather uneventful considering the situation you were in. Although there were thugs who came around to your settlement every once and a while, they were not like the ruthless bandits. They stole the supplies you saved, certainly, but they always left you and your parents unmolested and with enough food to ensure you'd still be there when they returned. On the rare occasions where brutality was needed, your dad told your mother to take you somewhere else which she did without fail.
Your first real encounter with the violence of the world occurred when you were 7 years old. You had just begun to start exploring on your own while your parents were asleep in order to test yourself and discover more of the world, always making sure to carry a heavy stick in order to defend yourself in case you encountered trouble. Looking back, you'd have been better off leaving the stick. More mobility in an emergency.
As you were walking along the city ruins under the hot Australian sun, you came across a puppy being savagely beaten by a group of men armed with sticks much like your own, only more finely shaped and sturdy. As each whack and yelp seemed to echo throughout the lonely city, you watched the beating under the cover of a corner. When the beating was done and the men left, you ran over to the puppy that lay twitching in a pool of its own blood. Knowing that your parents would never allow a future monster to remain alive, you kept in in an old cage you found scavenging nearby, and nursed it back to health.
As the years went by, you saw many changes in the dog, it grew larger, tougher more sinister. And its eyes, which became whiter as time went on, were always showcasing a savage intent. Your parents showed you dogs and other animals from before the end, and you came to realize that the difference was always in the eyes. You also practiced with your stick, and soon became reasonably proficient at wielding it, as well as crafting it to be like the like the group of men's.
At age 14, while you were feeding the puppy, now a dog (You never gave it a name, sensing that it would not be wise to become to attached to it), it broke out of its cage and tackled you, biting at you with what you knew was an intent to kill. With adrenaline pumping into your veins from fear of death, you somehow threw it off, and rolled to grab your stick. As the dog charged at you, you whacked it across the snout sending it flying a short distance. You didn't let up though, you kept hitting it again and again and again, until the dog was unable to make even rudimentary attmepts at defending itself. When you realized this, you rose your bloodied stick high above your head, and thrust it down towards the dog's head. Splat! You did it once more. Crunch! And you kept doing it until you were sure it was long dead.
You never visited the area where you kept the dog ever again, but future visitors would find a small, pitiful cross made out of Popsicle sticks next to a patch of dirt.
At the moment, you have just returned from a scavenging trip only to find a sight horrific beyond imagining . The corpses of your parents are being used by raiders for both soccer in the case of your dad's head, and for your mother.....
.....
....
.....
They do not seem to have noticed you. They are armed with spiked baseball bats. You do not think you'd be able to live with yourself if you attempted to run away, despite the danger.
What's your general battle strategy going to be? You can ask me for many other details if you want before making a decision.
[] Write-in
Bet you thought this would be another failed quest huh? Maybe it already is. But I've decided that as long as people are into it, I'm gonna stick with the idea.
