Courier's Journal

by Three Rejects

The Courier is a dark legend carved into wasteland history. He has decided the fate of nations, and his name strikes fear into the hearts of mortal men. The wasteland belongs to the strongest warlord, and they say the Courier is a god of war. The truth is though, he's probably the nicest guy you will ever meet.

Courier's Journal: Week One

Day 1: October 19th 2281

Good news and bad news. Not necessarily in that order. It's just news right now, but shut up, I can write my journal however I want.

You'll recall that about a week ago I took an insanely high-paying job to deliver a package to Vegas. I was completely correct to expect trouble, as I was captured and robbed by some prick in a suit and his entourage of Great Khans, and he shot me in the head. I survived being shot in the head at point-blank range, because I'm goddamn hardcore and THAT'S HOW I ROLL, but it was only by the skin of my teeth this time.

I woke up earlier today in some dingy-looking room with boarded-up windows, and found that I had been dug out of my own grave by a friendly robot and delivered to the local doctor of a town called Goodsprings. Doc Mitchell is a cool guy. He reminds me of my father a bit (a fact which made me want to cry and hug him for hours, but I have more restraint than that).

Mitchell treated me while I was out, even doing surgery to remove the bullets and fix up my face again. I've got to say, he did a damn good job. My face isn't exactly like how it used to be, but there's not even a scar there now! Mitchell could be a brilliant plastic surgeon if he wanted to be. Other than that though, I'm more or less the same as before. I survived what should have been a fatal injury with only the help of skilled human hands and modern medical science. And the Clairvoyant said I needed that extra cycle. Pfff!

Anyway, Mitchell patched me up and gave me an evaluation after, meant to determine how psychologically well I was, and I seemed to pass. Then I had to do some medical history stuff, which I lied about to avoid answering the awkward questions, and then he let me go. Not that I did leave town right away, or even his house for that matter. I stayed a while to get my bearings and went over my equipment.

Of everything that I was carrying on me when I was shot, I was given back four stimpaks, eighteen caps, twelve bobby pins, my pistol, a few shots for it, some dynamite, and my delivery order from the Mojave Express. Everything else was gone, including my package, my old journal, and my clothes, plus everything I had in my pockets (which was a lot, because my pockets were huge). Fortunately, my new friend was not opposed to lending me a jumpsuit.

Mitchell came from Vault 21 up near Vegas, you see. Moved down here with his wife before she died. And while he was in the vault, he had this little machine that you're supposed to wear on your wrist, called a Pip-Boy 3000. Well, technically PIP-Boy, because PIP is an acronym for "personal information processor," but that's not the point. What's important is that he gave it to me. And I cannot tell you how much I love this thing.

It's got everything! A built-in radio, a Geiger counter, a flashlight, a GPS map of the whole Mojave region which I can edit to tag locations as I come across them, interfaces to connect to any computer system, massive memory storage, audio and video recording capability, a notes and calendar function for planning, and it's even able to give me medical scans in real time. If I'm injured anywhere on my body, it can identify where I'm hurt. If I'm irradiated, it also knows how many rads. It even monitors how hungry, thirsty and tired I am. This thing's amazing!

It was early morning when I stepped outside for the first time, and I found myself in a strange new location. Goodsprings is a quaint town. The houses are still run-down and dilapidated, but it's really a heck of a lot better than many other places I've seen. The residents tend to keep to themselves for the most part, but there are a few who are a bit more sociable.

Victor was one of them. He's that friendly robot who saved me that I mentioned, and he's a special model called a securitron, which is a RobCo robot many leagues above their protectrons. I've never seen one up close before, but I heard that they normally guard the Vegas Strip.

He's got an advanced AI for a standard model, which gives him the personality of a cowboy, and he seems to live in Goodsprings as a regular citizen. He has his own shack and everything. Nobody is quite sure why he's here, and all people can tell me is that he's just been around so long that they're used to his presence, though how much they trust him varies from person to person. I'll admit, I do find him an enigma.

Moving on though, one of the first humans I met that morning aside from the doctor was Sunny Smiles, and I have no idea if that's her real name or not. Mitchell sent me her way, apparently thinking that I needed reminding of some basic survival skills. I was a little insulted at first, because, come on, who gets to be my age in the wasteland without learning how to shoot, right? But I got a free rifle out of it, and she did genuinely teach me something new when she showed me how to make healing powder at the campfire.

We spent most of the early morning south of the town, because I agreed to help clear out a gecko problem. Nasty things, but very stupid. They have no survival instincts at all. A gecko is really big, easy to hit, and they charge right at you when you start shooting. Their skins and meat are worth a few caps though. Sunny just wanted to kill them, but I don't believe in wasting perfectly good dead animals.

I saved a woman's life while I was there too. I didn't even notice her until she came up and thanked me for killing the geckos that were about to eat her. She gave me a bottle of water and ran off. I never even learned her name, but I will find you again one day, gecko lady.

For that healing powder thing, I had to make a trip to get some ingredients. I stopped by the school house back in Goodsprings first, where I was inexplicably attacked by giant mantises. I had no idea that mantises hunted in packs. I always thought that the mantis stood still, took advantage of camouflage, and ambushed their prey. Shows what I know. And then after that I went up to the cemetery, where I was spat on by bloatflies, the most harmless but most disgusting of wasteland insects.

I had opportunity to check the graves while I was there, and I found no trace of my previous journal in or around my open grave. I even went back there with a shovel later in the day and dug up some of the other graves, in case I was wrong about which was mine, but it's just gone.

I sincerely hope that my murderer didn't take it. I recorded things in that journal. Private things. Like the drafts for all those pornographic novels I wrote, including my most recent piece. Now I may never finish my semi-autobiographical magnum opus, He Who Fucked a Thousand Whores. Such a tragedy that the wasteland will be deprived of my genius.

Oddly enough though, I did find a snowglobe by one of the graves. I think it was a Vault-Tec product, because the snowglobe had Vault Boy inside it, their mascot. Vault Boy shows up quite a lot on this Pip-Boy as well, constantly smiling up at me from the screen like the hollow, soulless puppet that he is. His eyes bore into me, and I can feel the suffering of thousands of—

Sorry.

Once I was done with Sunny, I got time to meet some of the other residents and spoke with an old timer called Easy Pete outside the saloon. We talked about the NCR and Legion over at Hoover Dam, and he told me a little about his days as a prospector (which is Mojave slang for "scavenger").

At the time I found it very interesting, but this later just became confusing. See, I met Sunny again after and asked about work, and she told me that there was none, but that if I was feeling up to it then I could try to crack a safe in the school house. Easy Pete, she said, had tried and failed to blow it open with dynamite.

This all sounded standard at first, but then I realised halfway through the job that Easy Pete must have been a really terrible prospector. I had that safe open in a matter of minutes, and I did it with a bobby pin and a screwdriver! No, you're not understanding. Not a sonic modulator, or even one of those primitive excuses for "electronic lockpicks" that Wattz inflicted on the world. A bobby pin and screwdriver. And it's still really not that difficult! How hard can it be for a man to learn basic lockpicking when it's his actual job?

Humans. Sometimes, I swear...

Back on topic. The safe yielded a very cool little device called a stealth boy, which was developed by RobCo and can serve to make me invisible. Well, mostly invisible. It's not perfect, but the stealth field will fool people if they don't already suspect you're there. I've seen one of these in action before, back in NCR. You can still see an outline and a bit of a distortion if the person is in the open, but the stealth boy was never intended as a free pass to act like a moron anyway. You've got to use it in combination with your already existing skills.

It only works temporarily and is a one-time use though, so I've got to conserve this advantage. I'm saving it for a real emergency.

I then visited the general store and met Chet. He tried to sell me his surplus ammo, but I was the one who walked out of there having sold everything. I gave him the gecko skins and meat, some valuable parts from the mantises in the schoolhouse, and just whatever other junk I found in there that seemed valuable. Got a decent amount of caps out of it.

I got the shovel and went up the graveyard like I mentioned, and after I returned from that I went to finally see Trudy, the bartender of the Prospector Saloon who Sunny told me to go see earlier. She's a respected woman in Goodsprings, so I thought I'd oblige and go say hello. I found her arguing with a strange gentleman named Joe Cobb when I first went over, and that's when the real adventure began.

Cobb, I soon discovered, is an ex-con who escaped from the NCR Correctional Facility to the east, and he's not alone. There was a riot and mass break-out a while back, and the escaped convicts have formed a loosely organised group called the Powder Gangers. They are so named due to their weapon of choice being the dynamite that the NCR stupidly gave them while using the prisoners as slave labour to build the railways into the Mojave. This, as you might guess, is how their riot was so successful.

They've been causing trouble around the area ever since. Cobb was in Goodsprings because they tried to rob a caravan that passed through (one of the Crimson Caravan's), and this guy called Ringo who was a part of it shot back at them. Ringo has been hiding in Goodsprings ever since, trying to lay low and avoid the Powder Gangers.

He was right to do so, because they're itching for revenge, and Joe Cobb was actually talking to Trudy because he wanted to threaten her into giving it up. He says that the Powder Gangers will burn Goodsprings to the ground if they don't. She still told him to get lost though. I can see why everyone here looks up to her. But this did leave the obvious problem that the town and Ringo now have to possibly worry about an organised attack by the Powder Gangers bearing down on them.

I went up to the gas station where Ringo was hiding and talked it over with him, and we came up with a plan. I've since spent the rest of the day running around and trying to organise a militia of sorts to fight off our attackers.

Sunny was the first to volunteer when I asked her, and she pointed me to others who could help out. Trudy needed some convincing, but she agreed to help rally the rest of the town. Easy Pete was happy to provide extra dynamite once I demonstrated to him that I knew explosives safety. And I was even able to enlist Victor in the fight as well. Him being a heavily-armed securitron, I don't think we have anything to fear from the Powder Gangers anymore, but it helps to be cautious and not put all our eggs in one basket.

I was able to talk Chet into providing the militia with some leather armour, though he proved a challenge. I've been told before that I have a silver tongue, but that doesn't always extend to dealing with salesmen. They have their own unique mentality that must be exploited, and sad to say, I don't really think like a salesman. I can do a reasonable impersonation of one though, so I got him in the end. Took a little light reading to get me in the right mentality, but it was all good.

And finally, I went to go see Doc Mitchell again so that I could request for him to support us in a medical capacity. He had no problem letting us borrow some extra stimpaks, but that wasn't all he provided. Since a fight was upcoming, he also had some weapons to spare. He gave me a laser pistols and some cells that he had laying around as an alternative sidearm, and he had a broken 9mm submachine gun that he let me fix up and use.

I also noticed a chemistry set in the corner, so Mitchell begrudgingly allowed me to use it to brew up some chems. I'm no big fan of chems, and I know what they can do to you, but there is a time and a place for them and I never like to find myself without a tool if I need it. I cooked up one dose each of psycho, jet, steady, buffout, rebound and mentats. And hopefully, that'll be all I'll ever need.

After taking such measures, and with my involvement too, an easy win for Goodsprings looks likely. The Powder Gangers should be defeated without much trouble, and Ringo can leave town and go back up to New Vegas at his leisure.

However, I have to account for Murphy's law. It's inevitable that not everything will go according to plan, but that's quite alright. If there's one skill I prize above all others, it's my ability to improvise. This plan is itself the work of improvisation. If something goes wrong, I'll think of something to fix it. Or I could die. Again.

I guess I'll see how well this plan holds up once the Powder Gangers attack. I'm currently staying in the gas station with Ringo, enjoying a sarsaparilla and schooling him at caravan as I write this out. And so far, I'm really loving it! You can probably tell by length of this entry when compared to how little I used to write in my old journal, but using the Pip-Boy's keyboard is SO much easier than writing everything by hand! I liked writing in my old journal too, but boy howdy, when I had a lot to write about, it'd give you such a pain in the wrist!

So since we're now caught up to present time, I'll leave it off here. I'll write a second entry later to tell how the Powder Gangers attack went, assuming I survive. And again: I love the Pip-Boy keyboard. The world is beautiful.

Hail to the Keeper.

Killed: Some geckos, I guess.

Today's dinner: Cram.

Had sex with: Nobody yet.

Day 1: October 19th 2281 UPDATE

I did say that I'd write an update after the fight, so here I am. I'm glad to report that everything went very well. There were no casualties on the side of Goodsprings, and the Powder Gangers invasion force was completely wiped out. A lot of them were blown up, ironically. I think Easy Pete made the biggest difference in that fight.

Not Victor, surprisingly. He didn't show. I found him afterwards and asked him why, but he didn't seem to be aware that the fight had occurred at all. He says he "must have dozed off," which as I discovered when I looked into his data was because someone activated an override to deliberately keep him out of the fight. I couldn't find out who though. It couldn't be the Powder Gangers. There's no way they'd have been able to sneak into town and do that. It's a real mystery.

And my participation in the fight was a lot greater than I expected. It was all so clustered, the Powder Gangers were coming straight towards us (including one idiot who charged a group of armed men with a baseball bat), and there were Goodsprings citizens in the fray, so I dared not use any of my own dynamite even though explosives are the only weapons I'm even half decent with. I got out my gun and resolved to fire in the general direction of my targets from behind cover.

At that exact moment, as I mentally prayed for a miracle, the cartoon angel of Vault Boy descended from the heavens and spoke to me. "I hear you, my child," he said. And before my eyes appeared a black interface with orange text explaining to me the Vault-Tec Assisted Targeting System, also known as VATS.

SOMEHOW, I'm not sure how, this beautiful little machine is able to put a display over my vision, either doing something to my eyes or to my brain. I think it might be nanotechnology. Probably the same things it uses to monitor my vitals for the medical scans. When I engage it, VATS calculates my chances to hit any target I aim for in real time. All I need to do is point the weapon, and fire when the number is high enough, and it'll generally hit what I was going for. And this doesn't just work on people's whole bodies, either. I can target specific limbs.

This thing turned me from a mediocre gunman into a hardcore badass in a single fight. Give a man one of these, and he can become a perfect shot. You just need good timing and to make sure to give a few seconds for a cool down period. It can't be working constantly, you see. Even the Pip-Boy can overheat if it uses too much processing power at once, so it does the calculations in short bursts. Still, that one disadvantage aside, this is an immensely useful tool. I cannot fathom why Doc Mitchell gave it away to me for free.

And now I'm wondering how much of the legend of the Vault Dweller was down to his presumable ownership of one of these.

At final count though, of the six men that attacked Goodsprings earlier, I personally killed three of them, including Joe Cobb himself. I am, as always, saddened by the need for me to take a life, but such things in the wasteland are inevitable. Oh that I could show these men the error of their ways. Still, nothing that I can really do if they insist on being so antisocial, so I just had a moment of silence for them all once we were done, and then I got to work looting the bodies.

Waste not, want not.

Ringo gave me a hundred caps of the Crimson Caravan's funds as thanks, and then he ran off. As for me, I went back to Chet and gave him everything I picked up. That includes most of the armour the Powder Gangers were wearing, plus their weapons, ammunition and various other items. Chet was selling some weapon mods that I liked the look of, so I used all my caps to buy a scope and extended magazines for my 9mm pistol, and the same plus a silencer for my varmint rifle.

The varmint rifle's scope also comes with night vision. Looks like a good weapon for stealth operations now. And it helps that I also found a second stealth boy on Joe Cobb's corpse. I've no clue where he found it, but I have two of them now, so today's been a very good one for me. I of course decided to keep it rather than sell it to Chet with everything else. The snowglobe too.

I did keep two other things from my looting though. A single suit of armour from one of the Powder Gangers, and the baseball bat that the idiot was using. The latter I kept because I need a melee weapon, and I'd prefer a large bat to a small knife. The former, well, you'll see. Let's just say that I plan to make a trip to the NCRCF later.

After that, it was back to the saloon for a celebratory drink with the rest of the townsfolk. Trudy's radio was damaged when I got there, and I recall it had been since the morning, so I fixed it real quick for her. She paid me another seventy five caps for the job, so drinks were on me, and we all had a grand old time as we were serenaded by the sweet sound of Sinatra. If you ask me, it doesn't get better than that.

Well, maybe I could have gotten laid too, but no luck there tonight. The women all seemed taken and most of the men were straight. Ah well. There's always tomorrow.

Hail to the Keeper.

Killed: Joe Cobb and other Powder Gangers.

Today's dinner: Already described earlier.

Had sex with: Still nobody.

Day 2: October 20th 2281

I found a small trailer to sleep in last night. Better than going out in the open, but I'd have preferred to stay in one of the houses. Regardless, it was time to move on.

I realise now that in all the excitement of dealing with the Powder Gangers, I had neglected to mention in my last entry that I learned from Trudy where the man who shot me was going. Though he was in the company of Great Khans, she said that they were all heading back up to New Vegas. Given how dangerous the northern route is now, she figures that they'd have had to have taken the south way towards Primm.

Before I could do any of that though, Trudy and Sunny Smiles invited me to their house. Yes, they live together. No, I did not know that. And no, I don't think that they're "together". Pretty sure they're just roommates, because a third woman lives here too. And you'll never guess who. Gecko lady! The one I saved that one time. Yeah. Her name is Sally.

Well, the three of them knew I was leaving, so they all just wanted to say goodbye and present me with a final farewell gift. It was a book called Chinese Army: Special Ops Training Manual, which is mysteriously written in English. I thanked them and took it, even though it's kind of awkward to carry with my vault jumpsuit since its pockets are nowhere near what I had before, for obvious reasons. I've put everything in a sort of bindle for now. I'm happy to have the book though. It's been a long time since I had something new to read. I'm gonna read this one when I have a spare hour.

I then set off along the south road, but I didn't keep to it for long. I veered off pretty early when I saw a pack of coyotes in the distance and decided to get in some target practice, since their kind are a menace and nobody would miss them. But my philosophy of not wasting food kicked in and I went over to harvest the meat, at which point I found Goodsprings Cave.

The cave in question turned out to be their den, and it was filled with grisly sights. Among the mutilated bodies was a dead ghoul in a strange robe who was carrying a plasma pistol. I used it to disintegrate the bodies and provide an impromptu cremation. I've decided to keep the plasma pistol, as it is stronger than my laser, but it's slower too, so I've decided to keep the laser in case of an encounter which requires speed over stopping power.

After that I decided that it would be best not to veer from the path again and I returned to the main track. I found a skeleton in a fridge by the roadside here (or it might have been before the cave, I don't remember), and I found a nice hat with him. Some of the Powder Gangers had hats too, but I really like the look of this one, and I've taken to wearing it. Then I went back to Goodsprings Source, since I was passing it at the time, intending to get a drink.

While there I met a strange man called Barton who had a really not very smart plan. There was a refrigerator and foot locker containing what he obviously thought was some valuable treasure but was in fact just some food and playing cards (a 6 of diamonds, jack of clubs and 4 of hearts, all from a standard deck, if you must know) up on a ledge by their previous owner's corpse. There were also geckos in the way.

Barton was apparently unable even handle geckos by himself, which as we have established are the most idiotic creatures in the wasteland with no sense of self-preservation whatsoever, making our dear Barton pretty damn pathetic. So his grand plan was to trick someone into clearing out the geckos for him by giving a sob story about his girlfriend being trapped up on the ledge. Then he'd swoop in after they'd done it, kill the helper, and take the "treasure" for himself.

I was of course the one who volunteered to go save this imaginary girlfriend, since I have this annoying need to help people in trouble all the time. So yes, you could say he fooled me, but come on, I could never have anticipated a plan as idiotic as Barton's. I mean, the whole scheme hinged on him being able to take me in a fight, and this is after I've demonstrated myself as being a more capable fighter than him by taking out the geckos that apparently gave him so much trouble.

I'd understand it if he had tried to get the drop on me. Maybe shot me in the back. But he confronted me in the open and confessed his whole plan before he even pulled a gun. Not to mention that he was in casual clothes while I still had the leather armour on over my vault jumpsuit. This was not a fight that he'd have any reason to believe he could win, even if I didn't have VATS, which I did. I'm perplexed by this. I shot him three times before he even raised the gun, and I have no idea how he ever expected it to end any other way.

I'm sorry. I know I've spent four paragraphs on this already, but Barton's idiocy was legitimately the most confusing part of my entire day, even given everything else.

I once again returned to the path and this time followed it to a T-junction where it met the I-15. Right across from me was a shack for a pre-war skydiving school. I went inside to check it out, but there wasn't much in there. A locker containing a caravan shotgun, and a bottle cap with a star on it. That's all. Or so I thought, but I'm determined to tell this chronologically this time, so no skipping.

But I took the road north instead of south, just for a little bit, and then went on a branching route to the east. This was the way to the NCR Correctional Facility, so I stopped here and changed into the Powder Ganger armour that I kept from back in Goodsprings and hid my (now substantially larger) bindle behind a rock. I kept all my guns, chems and stimpaks on me though, in case I needed them.

But I did not go in with intent to fight. I was there to negotiate with the leader of the Powder Gangers to make him give up on raiding caravans and threatening the locals. I wanted him to give himself and his gang up to the NCR if possible, and to move on to other territories with a promise to stop further criminal activities if not.

Call me a pussy if you want, but I was always taught to show mercy where possible, and it's not like I don't have what it takes to fight them too. I brought dozens of sticks of dynamite in with me, ready to blow the leader and his men sky high if they were determined to be a thorn in the side of society. It's not that I didn't believe I could take them in a fight, even despite my being outnumbered. It was just the principle of it. Everyone gets one chance. Just one.

So I approached the prison in my disguise and talked with the gate guard. He was called Dawes, and I spoke with him briefly about the gang itself and his personal history. I tried to weasel my way inside, but he knew I wasn't one of them, and he charged me a hundred caps for entrance. I paid it, not wanting to start trouble right away, but as I was about to head into the visitor centre... I don't know. He must have noticed a blood stain on the armour or something. I don't know what, but somehow he suddenly knew that I was an enemy of the Powder Gangers.

He pulled a revolver and tried to shoot me. He was in really close range, and he could have hit me in the face if he'd been allowed to get another shot off. I'm not sure I could have survived another headshot. With VATS though, I was able to make a hit of my own with the shotgun, and he went down. No other Gangers came to investigate, though I don't doubt for a second that they heard it.

I think they just assumed that we had an argument and that I had killed him for personal reasons. That must happen a lot in prisons. Probably wasn't unheard of in NCRCF. So I went inside and passed all the other convicts without issue. None of them even asked questions.

My path unobstructed, I proceeded to the administration building where I suspected the head honcho to be based. I was right, but that was not a good thing. He knew what was coming for him, and I was fired upon the moment I walked through the front door. There were loads of them, and they weren't slouches like Joe Cobb's group were either. This building contained only the toughest and meanest, and they had the best armour and weapons too. My guns were useless in that chaos, even with VATS, so I just dropped a shitload of dynamite and tossed it everywhere.

Some of them died. Most were just crippled or left in shock. A special few kept firing though. I blasted the floored Gangers in the head and grabbed their weapons to fire back at the others. Two in particular gave me real trouble. One was this crazy guy with an eyepatch who kept trying to punch me with brass knuckles rather than shoot. He was right up in my grill and out of the way of the explosions, so I couldn't do anything with him. And then there was this other guy who was really smart about how he used cover, and he'd hide behind one of the walls and take shots at me with a plasma pistol.

Eyepatch guy kept getting out of the way of my shots, disarming me or trying to put me in holds at close range, so I eventually just went for the baseball bat and smacked him upside the head, with an additional beating or two once he was down just be sure he stayed that way. Then for plasma pistol guy, I went back to chucking dynamite. I was surprised when he grabbed my dynamite off the floor and threw it back at me, which was clever of him, but I still had VATS, and I pulled off the most badass move I think I've ever done before.

I actually shot the dynamite with my revolver mid-air and caused it to explode in the middle of the room between us. It scorched my hand and made me drop the gun, but it knocked the other guy right back against the wall. A quick shot from my plasma pistol made sure he never got up again. And like that, I'd cleared the administration building.

The fight wasn't over. After all the racket I caused, the whole rest of the prison descended on me. They weren't nearly as much of a problem though. I gathered up all the strewn about weapons, camped in the medical bay opposite the entrance to the building, and took them all out with a hail of plasma, gunfire and explosions as they were bottlenecked in at the front door. Idiots tried to throw in dynamite a few times, but I tossed it back just like the other guy did, and it's actually an effective tactic when your enemy isn't THE COURIER.

I've effectively destroyed the NCRCF as a base for the Powder Gangers and robbed them of any centralised command. That wasn't my initial intention going in, but it's what happened. Since I so thoroughly wiped it out, I decided to go over the place and pick out anything interesting I might come across, and that's what I've spent the entire rest of the day so far doing.

Looking around, I found another interesting book that I think I might like, called Lying, Congressional Style. In one of the cell blocks, I came across what looks like a shop, complete with cells being used as storerooms. They were full of ammo and caps, and I found a set of schematics for an IED that they call a powder charge that I like the look of, so I've copied them onto the Pip-Boy. And that's not even touching on all the guns, ammunition, armour and NCR currency that I pulled off the bodies of the Gangers themselves. Chems too.

Speaking of chems, I found some hydra in one of the cellblocks. I know it's the nastiest of the nasty drugs for addictions, but it heals your body so quickly. It gives an almost instantaneous healing factor that can repair any damage short of a limb being hacked off. It was exactly what I needed after the fight in the administration building, so I used it to speed along my recovery. I don't think any of the side effects set in. Not sure if it's because of luck or genetics, but it doesn't really matter.

So after I initially finished looting and hauled everything back into the administration building, I went out to get my bindle and leather armour again. There was a lone Powder Ganger in the visitor centre hiding in the corner, waiting to get a drop on me. I was too quick for him though. Shot him before he could even react.

Then when I was outside getting my stuff again, that's when I met Malcolm Holmes, who's a retired collector of star bottle caps like the one I found at Jean Sky Diving. He's been following me ever since I picked it up, and decided to approach and explain to me what they were since I didn't seem to show any strong reaction to them. How nice and slightly creepy of him.

Apparently the caps are rare though, and people try to collect them because there's a legend in the Mojave that someone called Festus guards a secret treasure that he will only give up to those who have enough of them. Men have killed over these star bottle caps, including one man called Allen Marks that I've been told to watch out for. Supposedly, Festus has been guarding this treasure ever since before the Great War, which makes him pretty damn old. Either a robot or a really determined ghoul then.

I later discovered a second of these star bottle caps in the visitor's centre at the prison.

With that now in mind, I've returned to the prison with my things and set up back in the main building. I've gone over this place again with a fine-toothed comb, and I've made absolutely sure that there are no Powder Gangers still within the walls. I locked the front door of the visitor centre again for safety so that they can't get back in tonight, I locked the door to the administration building for double safety, and I set mines by the door for triple. Some may call that paranoid, but I'm sleeping in the middle of a raider base, and it'd be the height of carelessness to not take measures to protect myself.

I'm not really going to bed yet though. I'm going to stay up late and finish with all this.

All this armour and weaponry that the Powder Gangers had is generally in poor condition, and there's too much of it to carry back to Goodsprings to sell in a single trip. So I had the idea to break down everything and use the best parts from all the weapons and the best material from all the armour to just make a really excellent quality version of everything, that I can sell for more, but which will weigh less for me.

While I'm at it, I've gotten to work on producing a map of the Mojave using the customise feature on the Pip-Boy's map functions. I can add tags for places I've been so I know where I am relative to everything else. I put down tags for Goodsprings, Goodsprings Source, Goodsprings Cemetery, Goodsprings Cave, Jean Sky Diving, and the NCRCF. I plan to tag more places as I come across them, and I'll makes notes in this journal where necessary.

Actually, no. That's stupid. From now on, when I tag a new location, I'll bold its name in this journal with the Pip-Boy's easy formatting features, which I love. I don't want to end up obsessively listing things at the end of each journal, do I? That'd just be silly. What kind of deranged person would do that?

Hail to the Keeper.

Killed: More Powder Gangers, including some important ones.

Today's dinner: Tried to make coyote steak, but burned it. Made a feast using preserved foods around the prison instead.

Had sex with: A pillow I found.

Day 3: October 21st 2281

I was really meant to get back to my search today, but I got sidetracked again by the Powder Gangers. It turns out that I was right to be paranoid, because there were literally Powder Ganger camps in every cardinal direction from the prison. I knew I couldn't leave them there in good conscience, so I resolved to visit every one of them and try to either extend the offer I intended to give the NCRCF's local leader, or kill them if they shoot at me on sight.

Unsurprisingly, the Gangers from all four camps did not hesitate to pick the latter option. I visited the south, east, north and west camps in that order and was forced to kill the convicts based at each of them. I got a lot more weapons and armour out of it, but not so much more that I felt it impossible to carry it back to Goodsprings, which I did in the end.

Also of note is that there were letters and other written material at most of the camps referencing some kind of move northwards. The Powder Gangers were looking to get organised and head up to New Vegas together just before I stopped them. Not sure how many escaped me, but I guess I'll see eventually.

I sold everything I didn't want from the Powder Gangers to Chet and brought some more weapon mods in return. I got an HD cylinder and long barrel for my new .357 revolver for one thing. It's the same gun that Dawes pulled on me, except fixed up with parts from a few of the others. I'm not selling the modified 9mm, because that has a scope and this doesn't, but the revolver is there for me if I need something bigger. And speaking of 9mms, I got some better drums and a light bolt for my submachine gun too.

It makes for a pretty powerful arsenal overall, but overconfidence did me no good when I arrived in Primm at long last. Dealing with the Powder Gangers was all stuff that happened right in the early morning, but I spent most of the day just walking along that highway, occasionally having to shoot a rampaging gecko or angry radscorpion. Hateful little things.

All was not rosy and well when I reached Primm though. I was taken aside by an NCR soldier as I approached the town so that he could warn me that it had been taken over by a group of escaped convicts. Not Powder Gangers exactly, but from the same break-out. They had overrun the east side of town, while the military just kept to their little base on the west side, left mines on the bridge, and ignored the problem.

Ah, the New California Republic. I do love it, but damn if it doesn't grind on my nerves sometimes. They've got a million ideas about how to make the world wonderful again, and about one percent of them make it past all the red tape. And I used to complain about the High Council's bureaucracy. I mean, yikes, at least they didn't let people die literally on their doorstep. My tribe were stuffy too, but not to that point. The NCR military are some cold dudes.

I disarmed the mines (though I left them where they were), and crossed the bridge into the other side of town to search for the residents. After a brief shootout with some of the convicts, I found them holed up in the Vikki and Vance Casino, which is a small casino themed around a criminal couple from way back who went on a famously tame crime spree. It was there that I met Johnson Nash, who's in charge of Primm's branch of the Mojave Express. Which made him the man I had to report to about the botched delivery job.

He seemed not too concerned and rather unsurprised about the package. It seemed too good to be true, he says, and I must admit that it was a large payment. I still have no idea who our client was. I wasn't the only courier hired for this job, either. There were five others, all delivering various platinum objects. Mine was a casino chip, but others were delivering things like a platinum dice or other such nonsense. Whoever set up this deal, it seems that they expected their package to be stolen. Easy solution? Hire a courier to deliver the real package, and get five decoys to lead the thieves off-scent.

I can't assume anything, because he could well have gotten the wrong guy, but I think that I had the real package. And that man who shot me and took the platinum chip, whoever he is, was expected by my client. The other five couriers were the decoys I think, but I'm not even sure what happened to all of them. One of them was dead outside the Mojave Express building when I arrived in town. I found his delivery order on him. It's possible he was killed by the prisoners, but he might also have been murdered by the man in the chequered suit.

And then there's the courier before me. Nash says that I was second pick for this job, and that the first guy turned down to let me take the job in spite of the pay when he saw my name. It seemed like he knew me, I'm told, but I don't know any of other couriers in the Mojave Express that well. Certainly not in any way that would get that kind of reaction. Unless he's someone I slept with that never got over me, which I admit is a very likely possibility, but still...

Then again, it could just be my name itself. I'm not going to sit here and act like it's not strange. I'm well aware that most people don't normally name their kids or themselves like that, but I'm not most people, am I? I grew up in a society that can basically be likened to a cult. And not even just a crazy cult like the Hubologists. More like a slightly less insane version of a Lovecraftian cult. The chanting. Oh, the chanting. I still hear it in my dreams at night. What do you want, mother?! I looked into the void and it's staring back at me! I CAN SEE FOREVER, AND IT'S HIDEOUS! WHY DID YOU AND DAD EVEN CREATE ME?! NO! I DON'T WANT A CLOCK! I DON'T EVEN LIKE CLOCKS YOU FUCKING CUNT! WHY IS EVERYTHING CLOCK THEMED?!

Okay. Sorry. I don't know what compelled me to type that. I get a little emotional sometimes. It's alright. Back to my adventures in Primm.

So, I listened to Nash talk more about the problems in the town, and learned that the sheriff was killed by the convicts recently and that the deputy was captured. He was being held by the psychos in the Bison Steve, just across the street from Vikki and Vance. So I had to go in on a rescue mission if I wanted to help the town and/or get information on the guy I'm chasing.

I decided to check around the rest of the town first to see if there were any other convicts outside of Bison Steve. Sure enough, I found a few on the roller coaster outside, patrolling the top of it to overlook the town. They attacked, so I killed them.

I then went to search the other buildings, starting with the sheriff's office. That's where I found the murdered sheriff himself, along with his wife. They had both been decapitated, and were seemingly murdered in their sleep. It was a gruesome sight. Horrific even. I don't like to be the aggressor, but I knew then and there that I could not let this go unavenged. I would need to be the sheriff and dispense justice on this day, so I threw on the sheriff's hat and duster and took up his repeater to go clear out the Bison Steven Hotel.

It was everything I expected from a raider base. Dark, mouldy, and unpleasant. I used one of my stealth boys to sneak in through the front door without being seen, and the night vision scope on that varmint rifle came in handy for getting the drop on the guys in the front room. My sneaking skills are not the best though, so I had to rely on the stealth boy, and it only had limited charge. I had to get through the hotel as quickly as I could. Fortunately, it did not take me long to find a side door that led to the room where Deputy Beagle was being held, and he had only a single guard too.

I took out the guard and spoke with him. He told me everything I wanted to know, including that my attacker and the Great Khans that he was with were heading down to Nipton on their up through Novac. Once he did, I freed him, and he and I went through the rest of the Bison Steve and killed the rest of the convicts.

There were a lot of them, and we had to pass through multiple floors. I think we took them by surprise though when we didn't come up the stairs. I got the elevator working and we came from a direction they weren't expecting. They were tough guys, but with two of us working in tandem and some clever planning, they weren't much. Mostly I just had to be careful.

It was over quick and easy, and I returned Deputy Beagle to the casino without issue. Once that was done, then there was the small issue of finding a new sheriff, since Beagle was... unqualified, to say the least. I heard suggestions for a man up at the NCRCF who used to be a sheriff before he was incarcerated, and he sounded like a good option, but he was most likely dead or gone by then.

Nash also suggested that Primm could submit to NCR rule. Let the Republic keep the law for them. I liked this idea too, but the NCR has its own problems, as I discussed earlier. I did nonetheless go to speak with the NCR men to ask them what they could do, but they cited lack of resources and said that they couldn't do anything until they had more men. Typical NCR.

I eventually came up with the idea to reprogram a protectron named Primm Slim that was being used as a sort of casino tour guide, and make him the new sheriff. It only took some rudimentary work, and I think he's a good candidate for the job, if a little slow. I did notice while interacting with him though that he'd been hacked previously.

Remember how the casino is themed after the criminal duo of Vikki and Vance? Well, one of the display cases was meant to have Vance's gun in it, and it was stolen at some point. A woman named Pauline and a man named Sam stole it, and Primm Slim witnessed this and told them to stop. So they tried to wipe his memory. Poorly.

Actually, that's understating it. They did a truly abysmal job. The data wasn't even gone, just made inaccessible to Slim himself, and in the most blatantly obvious way. I wouldn't have even known there was a problem if Slim didn't have a massive gun-shaped hole in his memory where they'd been careless. It was child's play to retrieve the corrupted data again, including a transcript of a recording of the encounter, revealing to me their names and the fact that they ran to Westside. Idiots.

With all that out of the way, the townsfolk were finally all able to relax and go home. Since I can't seem to find any kind of operational hotel around here, I decided to sleep in the ruined Bison Steve Hotel instead. There were plenty of beds around on the upper floors at least, and not ALL of them were filthy. Just most.

I'm a little uncomfortable sleeping in here with all the bodies around, but as long as they're not in the room with me, I think I can handle it. We can deal with disposal of the dead tomorrow. I'll also have to search this place more thoroughly then and see what's around here. It can wait though. It's been a busy day, and I'd say that some rest is well overdue.

Hail to the Keeper.

Killed: SO many convicts.

Today's dinner: InstaMash and Pork n' Beans. Not enough for a full caravan lunch, but halfway there.

Had sex with: Wasn't in the mood today.

Day 4: October 22nd 2281

As I said and expected, my morning today consisted mostly of helping to gather and cremate all the bodies I'd left behind, as well as looting. The convicts and the Bison Steven had a lot of stuff. Weapons, ammunition, light armour, chems, pre-war money, and anything else you can think of. I sold most of it. Even the leader's incinerator. Time was I'd have kept that and stuffed it in my giant pockets, but alas, my old clothes are gone and I am left to obey conventional physics again.

Out of everything, I kept two items I found. Another new book (though I still haven't gotten to the other two yet) called Tales of a Junktown Jerky Vendor, and a third Sunset Sarsaparilla star bottle cap. Oh, and I've been allowed to keep the sheriff outfit and cowboy repeater I took too. Primm Slim won't be needing it, after all.

There was a single safe in the hotel that I found myself unable to open. I consider myself a decent lockpicker, so this surprised me. And alas, I don't have my old tools anymore either, so I can't just force it. I've decided to live and let live with this one. Not much I can do now.

After assisting with the mass funerals afterwards, I then went back with Johnson to his house. His wife cooked for us and told me about this casserole she makes with radscorpion venom (which sounds unhealthy to say the least, but I've heard of worse), and me and Johnson played some caravan. I won, because I always do. He gave up trying after five games.

While there though, that's where I got what I consider my real reward for my efforts in Primm. Nash had a small, broken eyebot there in the house with him that he had intended to use for courier work. It was too damaged for him to get it to work though, so he let me have it. And being the technical genius that I am, you'd better believe that I got it running! Its companion protocol ensures that I have an armed, flying robot constantly shadowing me, keeping a watch for danger. He's called ED-E.

The best part about him though is that he has great storage capacity. He looks really small and like he shouldn't be able to handle that much weight, but appearances are deceptive. It takes some creative positioning, but I was able to get him to carry my books, snowglobe, medical supplies, food and water, my shovel, baseball bat, explosives, stealth boy, laser and plasma pistols, varmint rifle, 9mm pistol and the sheriff outfit, plus extra ammo for a lot of my weapons.

As for me, I just carried the caravan shotgun, the SMG, the cowboy repeater and my revolver. Four weapons. More than I should ever reasonably expect to use in my normal day to day life, but I've been really bucking the trend for the past few days. If I keep saving entire towns and defeating entire gangs I may need to get used to using a large array of weapons like that. At least I can use all of them properly now that I have VATS. Not a few days ago I was just another schlub whose shots only hit about forty percent of the time. And just look at me now.

Everything else I had was among what I sold to Johnson, including my leather armour. I'm just going out in the vault jumpsuit again for now. That armour was damaged beyond repair anyway, and I'm not too keen on wearing raider gear either. I'm thinking I'll just pick up something when I reach the NCR outpost down south, or buy something in Nipton.

And speaking of Nipton, I've spent the rest of the day since then heading in that direction down the highway. I wasn't able to make it all the way there in a day though, or even just to the Mojave Outpost. I spent too long in Primm. Fortunately, I did find a place to stop.

The Nevada Highway Patrol station opposite Ivanpah Dry Lake was overrun with hostile Jackals when I got there (the cannibalistic raider tribe, not the animals), but they weren't too tough. Yes, I was out in the open while they had the advantage of cover, but it didn't help them much. Between VATS, ED-E flanking and providing covering fire, and the fact that I'm... well, ME, it was hardly a fair fight. Hard to imagine that these guys were once big enough to rival the Khans, but time and the expansion of greater civilization isn't ever kind to outlaws.

The interior wasn't pretty. There were mantises everywhere, and the prison cell had a half-eaten dead prospector in it too. I'd have normally ignored him (while I do like to show due to the dead, I can't cremate every random dead guy I find out in the wastes, otherwise I'd stop being the Courier and become the Funeral Director), but the only beds in the building were inside the jail cell too, and I just can't sleep right next to a dead body. Maybe as a wastelander I should be a lot more jaded about dead things by now, but I'm sorry, I still get squeamish at that.

Good thing my older brother wasn't around to hear me confess that. He'd have probably laughed, smashed a door on my head, dislocated my arm and shot me again. Which reminds me, I should send a letter back to mom soon.

But like I was saying, I did take the prospector's body outside and burned it along with the Jackals I killed. The smoke attracted some attention though, and I had to fend off a feral ghoul attack from the west. Luckily, ghouls aren't really that threatening either unless they're glowing ones, so it was alright. Just to be safe, I got up on the roof and sniped off the ones closest to the station anyway.

The prospector had some cards on him. Two different jokers from a Gomorrah deck and an eight of diamonds from the Ultra-Luxe. It's a good thing I've found cards like these around. My old deck was lost along with everything else when I was shot and buried, so I've got to start building a new one. Ringo gave me a good start at least. He provided me with a Tops deck, since I didn't have my own.

The station also had another star bottle cap (bringing my count up to four), and a book called Guns and Bullets. I think I once saw this book for sale somewhere back in NCR, but I never read it. It might have been in the Hub? I don't remember.

I want to read this sometime soon, and the other books for that matter, but I need to set some time aside for such a thing. Time that I don't have right now because I'm on the road and chasing after someone, and I'm already probably a few days behind. I could just dash through them before I go to bed, but when I read for pleasure, I want it to last. It's like sex. What's the point if it's over in minutes, right?

But I'm tired now, so I'll get back on the road tomorrow.

Hail to the Keeper.

Killed: Jackals, feral ghouls and mantises.

Today's dinner: Some kind of mixture of InstaMash and Nuka-Cola, I think?

Had sex with: Male NCR soldier in Primm.

Day 5: October 23rd 2281

Today was... horrific.

I'll start from the beginning. First thing I did this morning was kill the giant ants in Ivanpah Dry Lake. I hadn't noticed them the day before, as it was dark at the time, but I saw there were hordes of them just outside when I left the Highway Patrol station that morning. I spent at least half an hour destroying all of them. One of them attacked me as I came near, so I shot it, and the rest all rushed me. The mass extermination just sort of happened.

I soon after proceeded down the highway leading to Nipton, fighting my way through more ants and radscorpions on the way. A little way before the Mojave Outpost, I came across the Nipton Road Reststop, where I stopped briefly. There was an old store there, and I found yet another new book called Pugilism Illustrated, along with a fifth star bottle cap. I've got quite the collection now.

There were a few other items of interest too. Some graffiti that caught my eye for one thing, asking the question, "Where's New Canaan, anyway?" I thought it odd because the name sounds familiar to me, but I'm not sure where I've heard it. And there was also another dead robed ghoul with an energy weapon here, just like the one I found in Goodsprings Cave. This one had a recharger pistol, which I kept, because it doesn't require reloading and that's a handy feature in a weapon.

But the most important thing I found there was a journal belonging to Joseph B. Steyn, the apparent mayor of Nipton. According to the entry I read, he had met with a member of Caesar's Legion who went by the name Mr. Fox, and agreed to sell out the Powder Gangers and NCR troops that both come to the town so that the Legion could capture and "make an example" of them. The reststop I came across was a safehouse where he was storing supplies in case he had to make a run back to NCR territory in a hurry.

I was disgusted, and more than a little worried for Nipton's sake. I'd heard awful things about the Legion before, and if even half of it was true then Nipton was in definite trouble. I had no qualms about stealing the contents of Steyn's stash, which included a stealth boy, some energy cells, a few caps, a few packets and boxes of food, and bizarrely, a BB gun.

As I proceeded down the highway again, I began to notice smoke in the distance, and I got even more worried. Rather than heading straight there though, I instead stopped at the NCR's Mojave Outpost, marked by the two giant statues commemorating the Ranger Unification Treaty.

I didn't stay long initially. Mostly I just asked around to find out what was going on at the outpost. It seemed that the caravans were all stuck for the moment, and a woman named Lacey had taken the opportunity to set up a bar in the barracks. I talked to her for a bit and was directed to Ranger Ghost, who also noticed the smoke coming from Nipton. She asked me to head down there and check it out for her. So I did.

On my way there, there were other distractions. I was ambushed by a large gang of Jackals that I was forced to kill at the Nipton Pit Stop, and further up the road I encountered a man and a woman shooting at each other. The man won the fight, and told me that she had randomly attacked him. I soon figured out that she had been a collector who attempted to murder him for his lucky star cap necklace, which he had made without knowing how valuable they really were. Perhaps rather dishonestly, I talked him into handing it over to me. Between those two, I netted nine more caps.

When I finally reached Nipton itself... I was sickened to say the least. The deal had gone through, and the Legion had attacked the town already by the time I got there. The place was in ruins, buildings were destroyed, piles of tyres were set on fire all around the place to make the smoke as visible as possible, and the Legion had set up crosses all along the street where they had crucified a number of Powder Gangers to serve as an example to people.

I met the "Mr. Fox" that the journal mentioned, and the name's not inappropriate. He was wearing a fox's head as a hat at the time. He was there in the town leading a small group of Legion troops, and as much as I feared that I was about to die, he stopped to speak to me instead of putting me up on a cross too.

He told me exactly what he had done. It turns out that Mayor Steyn hadn't realised that the trap the Legion was setting for the NCR and Powder Gangers was also a trap for Nipton's own townsfolk, and they killed all of them. The sadistic bastards even ran a lottery, and made them all watch as they called them up one by one and crucified them in full view of everyone. He says that they were all too terrified to even help their loved ones. The winner of the lottery they let live. I met the winner running out of town as I entered. He was a Powder Ganger. A rather psychotic one, at that. I let him go. I've got no idea where he went.

As for the Legion... I wasn't sure what to do. I called out "Mr. Fox" and said that his crimes were unforgivable. I thought for sure that he'd kill me then, but he just said that if I really believed that, then I should attack him. I wanted to, but... I couldn't. I'm a coward. Even with the advantage of VATS and ED-E by my side, I was just too afraid. There were so many of them, and they were all trained soldiers. I'm just a guy. Not a normal guy by any stretch, but even I can't match a force like the Legion. How can I fight men in thick, padded suits of armour when I don't even have armour-piercing rounds for any of my guns?!

And besides, I've never been able to initiate a fight like that. Even with the Powder Gangers and how I intended to blow them up if negotiations didn't work out, that was more of a failsafe in case they decided to attack me. In truth, if they'd just refused to stop raiding but let me go, I'd have gone to the NCR troops stationed in Primm and tried to talk them into attacking the NCR Correctional Facility to deal with the problem. I can fight, and I can kill, and I have no problems with that if it's in self-defence, but I could never shoot first. It's not in my nature.

Back home, my brother and his friends always used to mockingly call me the softest heart in the wasteland, usually before they'd throw me down into that pit and drop a bucket of radscorpions over me. My mercy always seemed worth it though. Every bad person I spared was another soul that might reform and learn the value of human kindness. They could make the wasteland better if shown the right example. I never believed that it was a weakness of mine, even as I had to compromise my morals more and more as I grew. One of the biggest hurdles was getting used to killing people at all, ironically beginning with my brother, who I killed at least four times. He was a tough guy.

Now though, I'm beginning to question if he may have been right. Should I have taken the initiative and killed Mr. Fox then and there? If I'd been braver and stood up to them, might I have even won against the Legion? I could have potentially wiped out the entire force and lived to tell the tale with VATS and ED-E on my side. I guess I'll never really know for sure. I missed my chance already. I couldn't arrive in time to save Nipton, and I couldn't avenge it either. I'm a failure.

I'm sorry for being so down today, journal, but it's been a rough time.

I ran terrified back to the Mojave Outpost after that. It was late when I arrived, but Ranger Ghost was still on duty for me to report to her. She was understandably not happy about it. One other guy I told, Sergeant Kilborn, was downright depressed by the news. I kind of regret telling him now. Mr. Fox wanted me to spread the word of what the Legion had done to sow fear and discord, and I'm now afraid that I did exactly what he wanted.

It's not like I could have covered up the destruction of a whole town though. And keeping that information from the NCR would probably do more harm than good in the end. Though I do admit, I could have probably shown a bit more tact than telling the first person I met when I ran into the outpost. Breaking news like that to the soldiers should be down to their leaders, not me.

Once I was back, I sat around drinking in the bar that Lacey set up in the barracks for the rest of the night. Talked with a girl called Cass for most of it, who was a caravan trader being held at the outpost by the bureaucracy despite the fact that her caravan was already wiped out. I guess life sucks for everyone right now. I eventually left and found a bunk to sleep in for the night, since they're free to use for anyone, and that's where I am now.

All in all, it's been a pretty crappy day.

Hail to the Keeper.

Killed: Giant ants, radscorpions and Jackals.

Today's dinner: I didn't eat today.

Had sex with: None of this either.

Day 6: October 24th 2281

I woke up this morning to get back on the trail, but did not immediately do so. Seeking to help the situation at the outpost after hearing how bad it was, I went to see the man in charge, Ranger Jackson. He told me that I could definitely help matters if I went to clear out an ant problem on the highway I came in from. I had avoided them before, not wanting to have to fight them, but if it'd help the NCR get back on track I figured it couldn't hurt to go back and finish them off.

Though he couldn't officially pay me for my services, Jackson rewarded me with a hundred caps, a pair of weapon repair kits, a pair of caravan lunches, and a service rifle of the kind used by NCR troopers, along with seventy two armour-piercing rounds for it. These would have been useful before I went to Nipton yesterday, but I didn't want to complain.

I sold most of the excess weapons and ammunition I picked up from all the Jackals I killed, as well as the frankly useless BB gun I found amongst Mayor Steyn's stash, and purchased some materials from Lacey. The most important of these was a bag that I can hang over my shoulder. It's not that big, but it's better than wearing several holsters and ammo belts at once while carrying a bindle. I've been having ED-E carry most of my stuff since I picked him up, but if the past few days are anything to go by, I'll soon have too many guns for even him to carry them all.

I also purchased a copy of Duck and Cover!, as well as new combat sights for my laser pistol, a high-energy ioniser to provide extra punch for my plasma pistol, and she had some nails and a cork core for a baseball bat lying around too. I painstakingly removed the wooden body of my bat to put it over the cork core, which will make it lighter to carry and faster to swing with, and then stuck the nails through the body, which will make it more likely to kill whoever I'm swinging it at.

After that I took most of my gear to be repaired, and I flirted a bit with the major who I handed it in to. His name was Knight. I thought something might have came of it, but sadly not. People at the outpost are apparently not so open-minded, but he said that perhaps the next time he gets up to Vegas something will. He did repair my gear for free though. A one-time offer as a sort of apology.

I soon returned to Nipton, much as I did not want to, and began searching through the wreckage. The place was still burning when I arrived, though the Legion had long ago left. To my horror, I found that the crucified Powder Gangers were still alive and dangling. It tore me up, but I had to put them out of their misery. One quick shot to the head for each of them ended their suffering. It's official, I guess. I'm a murderer now. But I will forever contend that I did it for the right reasons. Nobody can justify the suffering that those men went through, even if they were raiders.

I searched the rest of the town for survivors, and was surprised when I did actually find one. There was a Powder Ganger called Boxcars in the general store who was still kicking, though he was less than enthused to see me. Legend of my exploits killing the Powder Gangers up north spread among their gang. Boxcars considered me the "grim fucking reaper" in his own words. He was the second prize winner of the lottery, which meant he got to live, but his legs were smashed. I gave him some med-X for the pain, but I don't know if he'll ever walk out of here or not.

He gave me a more detailed version of what the Legion did to the town exactly. I learned that there had been a number of punishments depending on placement in the lottery. Crucifixions were the worst of it, but some (the "lucky losers" as Boxcars called them) were quickly decapitated, and a few others were enslaved. The mayor was a special case. He was burned alive.

This may be inappropriate to say, but HA! That's called KARMA, Steyn! Screw you, backstabbing prick.

As for the rest of the town, I found out a lot while walking around. Despite Mr. Fox's claims that the town sat back and watched as they killed everyone, and didn't bother trying to fight back to save their loved ones or themselves, I found evidence to the contrary. At least one guy fought back with a laser rifle, and I discovered his body next to a pile of ash that I think was once a legionnaire. I took the laser rifle with me.

The houses were a mixed bag. I found no survivors, but generally no corpses either. They'd all been gathered outside. However, there were two exceptions. First was the office building of some kind of small hotel, where I found several dead NCR troopers that I collected the dog tags from to hand in to whoever I can find to take them. The second was a heavily booby-trapped house where I found a dead legion recruit.

The owner of it was quite paranoid, and I found a note detailing his certainty that Mayor Steyn, and all the new people who came to live in Nipton since his arrival, were all there to steal his "vital essence". I couldn't find whatever this was anywhere around the house, but I do know that he was very protective of it. The house had mines, pressure plates, tripwires, rigged shotguns besides the doors, a cage of bark scorpions that were released by stepping on one of the plates, and all other kinds of madness. I even found a locked safe which contained a grenade rifle. Talk about overkill.

I took the grenade rifle with me, and I also stripped the dead legionnaire of his machete and armour. I packed it all up and got ED-E to carry it for me. This was important, because I now had a way to disguise myself as a member of Legion. I hoped it wouldn't fail as quickly as my attempts at masquerading as a Powder Ganger did.

Another house had a mister gutsy in it that took me by surprise and nearly killed me, but I was able to beat it with the grenade rifle and ED-E.

I headed into town hall next and searched all around. Strangely, it was full of dogs. I think they were accidentally left behind by the Legion. They were aggressive at any rate, so I was forced to kill them. Upon searching the rest of the building though, I did find a Big Book of Science, which makes yet another item to add to my mobile library that I still haven't ready anything from yet. I found Steyn's computer in there too, along with a Nuka-Cola Victory. Not much was revealed by it, save for the fact that Steyn was the reason the Powder Gangers were freely served in the town and the reason why they and the NCR soldiers never ran into each other while visiting.

And of course, there was my primary reason for hanging around in Nipton so long, which was to check as many bodies and ash piles as I could for any sign of my attackers. In the case of the ash piles, it's hard to tell, but the Legion didn't take any of the dead people's possessions. As far as I'm aware, that man in the suit and the two Great Khans are not among Nipton's casualties. It's very likely that they all left town in time to make it on to Novac.

I'd also like to mention that yet another star bottle cap turned up during my search through Nipton, officially bringing my count up to fifteen. That's already ahead of both of the two rival collectors I've met now. I'm pretty good at this. Ha! Maybe I'll even get Festus's treasure?

My business was done at this point, so I was preparing to leave to town. Due to my failure to save Nipton or avenge it by destroying Mr. Fox and his legionnaires, I resolved to make up for it by rescuing the people from the lottery who were enslaved, which is why I wanted the Legion armour as a disguise.

As I tried to leave Nipton though, I was shot at by raiders. I was in a sort of canyon at the time. There were cliffs/hills either side of me, and the raiders were positioned on top of them, taking cover behind rocks and firing down at me. I now know them to be members of the Vipers, another of the "big four" of the old raider tribes, alongside the Khans, Jackals and Scorpions. They weren't very tough either, but their positions were problematic.

VATS is only effective when firing across a reasonable distance. If the opponent is too far, the percentage I see is always low, and my shooting becomes just as random as it always has been. I think this is nature's way of telling me that I can't substitute fancy gadgets for skill all the time. I've never normally needed to shoot people as much as I have for the past week, but since getting this Pip-Boy and chasing my murderer across the wastes, it's come up more and more. I think I finally have some incentive to start getting good with my guns. But hey, what is VATS if not the perfect training method for a budding gunman?

As for the Vipers, like I said, I was having trouble getting them with my guns, and so was ED-E. After failing to get them for fifteen minutes, I eventually just ran back and around, climbed up the hill to my right, came up behind the Vipers and beat them to death with my spiky baseball bat. I then went over to the other hill to do the same to the ones over there. Not the first time I killed raiders with a baseball bat. I did the same to a few of those Jackals. I feel somehow like it's the way you're meant to deal with raiders. Like I'm coming down to fight them on their level and make it fair.

I was injured by the battle though, so I then returned to Nipton again to heal my wounds and rest a while. And I'm still there now as I write this. It's not as late as it was when I retired for the night yesterday, but I feel that now's a good time to go to sleep anyway. I'll get up early tomorrow and continue on my way. I'm sleeping in one of the empty houses tonight. I kind of don't want Boxcars to know that I'm still in town. Even though I helped him out and he's crippled, I still very much fear a late night stabbing would occur if he were privy to that information.

Sorry, Boxcars. You seem like a charming guy, but you're still a dynamite-wielding maniac.

Hail to the Keeper.

Killed: Giant ants, bark scorpions, a mister gutsy, Legion dogs, and Vipers.

Today's dinner: Caravan lunch.

Had sex with: Nobody, but very nearly with Major Knight and very nearly with Boxcars, before I remembered the whole "escaped convict with reason to want me dead" thing.

Day 7: October 25th 2281

As I said I would, I today went out to free the slaves from the Legion. I began with heading out on the same path I did before (coming across another star bottle cap in a truck on that route as I did), and this time passed without issue.

At the end of the canyon area, I climbed the hill again to take a look around, and found the nearby Wolfhorn Ranch. When I arrived, I found nobody there. It appears to have been inhabited very recently, but it was clearly abandoned. I picked up another book there called Tumblers Today, and this one I actually HAVE read before, back when I was still wandering the NCR, but a new copy is still appreciated. I also took a meat cleaver I found there. A sharp-edged alternative to my bat, since I'm not such a fan of knives. I call it the Chopper.

Following the road east, I then discovered a raided farmstead. The main building was actually an old pre-war trailer missing a lot of its innards, but I went inside anyway to see what was left. I found a sixteenth star bottle cap and a box of ammo in there, but then some Vipers appeared outside and opened fire on me. It was pretty clear who had raided this place now.

It was the same problem as in the canyon; they were too far away for me to accurately shoot, even with VATS. My solution this time was to just stay in the trailer and let them get closer to me. It worked, and when the morons got within range, I popped out and got off a few decent shots. They wised up fast and started either running away or taking cover before I could actually kill any, so I then did something normally suicidally stupid, and charged out of cover to get them up close.

I'm beginning to sympathise more with that Powder Ganger from Goodsprings who tried to charge us all with a baseball bat, because I now realise in hindsight that I did the same thing with several of those Vipers. The ones I didn't just take the sensible option and shoot, anyway. At least it worked for me. I can't say the same for that Ganger.

One other thing I found though was a pretty nice pair of binoculars, and I was able to use them to check the surrounding area once I got up high again. And from the top of Wolfhorn Ranch, I was able to locate the Legion raid camp I was looking for. It was a distance to the north, but I made the trek and eventually arrived. My Legion disguise proved useful for avoiding suspicion, and I was able to stroll right into the middle of the camp and free both the Powder Ganger slaves held there, who immediately turned tail and ran.

Unfortunately for me, the legionnaires noticed, and opened fire on them as they left. And then they realised that it was me who let them go, and they fired on me too. I'd told ED-E to keep his distance already, and so he was no help. The legionnaires were... difficult, given the circumstances. The service rifle and armour-piercing rounds that Ranger Jackson provided for me came in handy though, and I was able to kill them, even if they did nearly hack off my limbs with machetes. Not the kind of sacrifice I'd have normally been willing to make for a bunch of Powder Gangers.

I returned to the highway not long afterwards, and kept heading up towards Novac until I reached Ranger Station Charlie, which is where I am now. The head ranger is currently away, but Comm Officer Stepinac has still allowed me to stop here for a little while. I won't be staying for the night though. Despite the distance I've already covered today, I think I may just be able to make it to Novac before nightfall. I'm just taking a quick break here to rest my legs and write this entry, and then I'll get back on the road.

I've still got a long journey ahead of me, but every step brings me closer to that man who shot me, and closer to answers. And after how much I've been jerked around and how much I've gone through in the past few days, I'd say I deserve them. I'm coming for you, mystery man.

Hail to the Keeper.

Killed: Legionnaires and Vipers.

Today's dinner: Caravan lunch.

Had sex with: Dead legionnaire. Nah, just kidding. NCR Ranger behind the outer wall.

---

Notes from the author:

Well, here it is. The long-awaited "sequel" to Wanderer's Diary. I hope I don't fuck this up.

Before I say anything else, I'm going to tell you right here that if you were to go to my profile page, you'll find a link to a Google docs version of this story, as well as my others. I highly recommend reading Courier's Journal in docs rather than here. It's better formatted, won't be missing any words, may have extra content in places, and it comes with a handy hub page with quotes for each chapter, so you'll be able to tell the weeks apart at a glance and they won't just blur together into a mass of numbers that you vaguely associate with certain events.

Now, to clarify a few things, yes, it looks like CJ is probably going to be a much longer story than WD was due to the word count, and subsequently, updates will be slower for this story than they were for that one. But I wanted to polish this one a little more and apply what I've learned about writing since the last. And even though this is a diary format, I wanted to go into a little more detail with the descriptions this time, and make each day's entry longer, more dynamic, and more immersive.

On the story side of things, you can expect this to go basically as Wanderer's Diary did. That is to say that it'll eventually cover almost every piece of content that was in the actual game it's based on, plus DLC, with the addition of a few extra subplots that I felt would be fun and interesting. These subplots will include ties to Diary and the other stories set in this universe I've established. My other stories won't be required reading, but reading them helps.

Also like Diary, you can expect us to get to know the Courier very well and see him go through a lot of character development by the end, just as with the Wanderer. As for characterisation itself though, don't expect a rehash.

I deliberately created the Courier here to contrast my previous take on the Wanderer, as while Fallout 3 set up its protagonist as a metaphorical chosen one (which I thought would be hilarious to subvert by making him a violent, sweary, murderous sociopath), New Vegas's Courier was obviously intended to be morally ambiguous and more of a blank slate, so as to justify siding with any of the factions, while his dialogue options suggested a slightly rougher edge. I have here instead made him exactly the upstanding paragon of morality that everyone in the Capital Wasteland thought the Wanderer was. Well, moral for the wasteland, anyway. He still kills dozens every day and thinks nothing of it, but what do you want from me? It's Fallout.

As you can probably guess, this affects the tone and the comedy somewhat. The comedy in Wanderer's Diary was black as night and mostly centred around just how depraved and insane our hero was. Here, it'll be slightly lower key. The greater detail means that jokes may be a little more infrequent, at least at first, and at this early stage it seems to be mostly centred around the Courier being dryly sarcastic or overly excited about something, or else about his hilariously traumatic childhood.

I plan to up the comedy from here on out though. Everyone's playthroughs are the same at the start, but they deviate greatly later on. Once we're away from the samey feel of the first two weeks, I'll have more free reign to take the Courier anywhere as the plot demands and set up more comedic situations like I did with Diary. And as we advance the story more and things get worse and worse, you can expect a steady return towards the dark, giggle-inducing madness that I do best.

-DJ.