A man and his convoy of cattle have been held up by some thugs. The Rangers notice, and negotiate with the bandits. The man can keep his cows, and they donít get bullets in their skulls. Of course, they donít love this answer. But perhaps the lead would have been worse.
The dream of good government is stability and unity. The Rangers offer unity, a sort-of hope to the rest of the Zone. They serve as the lawmakers of the rest of the hellhole, in acting their version to justice on behalf of no one, really.
First founded in late March, a month after the bombs hit the city, the idea behind it was simple: a response force that would save the innocent and defend the weak.
The idea failed, however. Now, it uses its long arm to attempt to crackdown on whatever freedom anarchy affords you. The leaders have fallen to corruption, the Rangers themselves to banditry. But they try, at least. Try to fix the damn place. Credit them for that.
The idea behind the Rangerís was never Good samaritanship. They must eat too. Their constant patrols are there to defend the weak, but also to ensure that another faction doesnít try to take their spot.
In all fairness, limited options and resources breeds incompetence. In this case, it didnít, really. The Rangers operate well and effectively, albeit with a loose hand, but you will take what you can get. Such is the way of life in the Outlands. Itís either this, or the warlords. One hangs you from a street light, the other gives you a chance to try to hang someone else on that same pole. To quote Marshal Nikolai Volkov, or just Nick,