Life in our horrific financial apocalypse: Day 3 (Pittsburgh)

The Hobo Council is dead, long live the Hobo Council. The Thunderdome donnybrook and murderfest got out of hand, spilling out from the killing floor to the stands. Many were eradicated in the rioting, including most ranking members of the Council. With our leadership in shambles it is all we can do to keep from descending into anarchy. We gather around the Voxiphone King 3000 AM Radio to listen to communiques from far off and to play our favorite podcasts we've downloaded. It is in this we are given some measure of relief.

It seems our leadership vacuum is short lived. Over the radio we heard tell of a leadership battle between the two fiercest warriors of the age, hoping to rally the abused masses of this post-apocalyptic nightmare and lead them to the future. We have received first contact from the one that is known as the Ancient.

He has sent word through minions that our plight should not give us pause. Our fundamentals are still strong and we will soon rise up from the tatters to a new American utopia. He has told us who is responsible: the Greedy Fatcats and the Regulators. These evil collectives have shirked their duties and have plunged us into this hellish nightmare. Some have said that there are members of the Greedy Fatcats on the Ancient's council of wizened elders, but they are laughed at and then beaten and left for the Flesh Reavers on the Outskirts.

The Ancient says above all that we must not fall for the tricks of his opponent, the Hopemonger. Following the Hopemonger will only lead us down the path towards insanity and anarchy. Only the Ancient's experience and furious madness can lead us in these troubled times. We wait for word from the Hopemonger so we have two sets of claims to judge against. Third opinions will not be solicited as is the decree of the Document.

We end the day hunting for manflesh near the outskirts. Much of the wildlife has fled into the outskirts, fled into the Forbidden Zones. No matter we have plenty to hunt. We size up a group of brothers. Laymen. We see a lager group painted in the colors of the WaMu but we let them pass, their time will come. We strike upon the group of brothers, they feel the sharp edge of our steel. We eat well knowing that they deserved it.

End communication.