Conditions are getting worse. I think a radiation storm is coming my way. There's no way to be sure, of course, but there's always the signs, like the urge to vomit, the crawling of the skin, the rapid sunburn. I'm not sure when it happened, but somewhere back the radiated animals started looking different, and there's less dust in the air. Like the Forecaster said, 'Forecast: Rapidly changing conditions.' Courier out, August 21, who-knows-what-year.
The Courier closed his leather-bound journal, now not covered in dust and dirt. He had passed out of the West some time ago, now, but couldn't be sure when. He was fully equipped for the wasteland, at least as much as he needed to be. He had six revolvers. Two were in his sleeveless leather trench coat, one in a hip holster, one in his left cowboy boot, and two in the back of his jeans, concealed under the back of his coat. He also had a machete, but it was a bit too large to conceal like his revolvers. That was just strapped over his shoulder, where it would be difficult to see from the front. He also had what appeared to be an Ace of Spades tucked into his cowboy hat, but it was really a sharp metal sheet that he could throw and seriously injure someone. He now used this to jimmy a lock and get inside an old house. He had been passing through a town, and the house he was in was one of the only ones not mostly destroyed. It needed to be pretty well intact if it was going to protect him against the coming radiation storm. There was no sure way to get away from one of those without putting a barrier between you and the rads. He had taken RadXs, of course, but they weren't sufficient to walk straight through the heart of a storm this bad. He'd die of rad poisoning before he reached the end.
What a terrible way to die, the Courier thought, After fighting and killing Deathclaws, Bloatflies, Radscorpions, and surviving a direct hit from a Mini-Nuke, I die of rad poisoning... No, he had to get inside. He heard soft growling inside, and knew it was from Feral Ghouls. Once in the house, he saw many things at once. There were the Feral Ghouls, of course, but those weren't important. The real thing that caught his attention was the Super-Mutant. He was standing over the Ghouls, with a large two by four in his massive yellow-green hands. The Courier knew from experience that he could swing the board with devastating power, and with the nails in this board, he could kill several men at once. The Courier immediately drew a revolver and fired into the Super-Mutant's eye three times. Blood fountained forth from the large wound, and he slumped forward onto one of the Ghouls, but the other three were charging now. The Courier drew his machete, simultaneously downing one of the Ghouls with his revolver. The other two reached him, but were instantly dispatched by the Courier's machete. He decapitated both at once, and their heads popped up a few inches while the rest of their bodies slumped to the ground, blood pooling underneath them. Their heads fell back, remaining upright on the crumpled bodies. The Courier ruined the picture by kicking a head on the way past, beginning to explore the house. As he walked, he tossed his revolver into his left hand and his machete into his right. He was perfectly ambidextrous with his revolvers, but not with the machete. He kicked in the door to the kitchen. He almost didn't recognize it as a kitchen. The floor was covered in blood and skeletons, and the cabinets had been shattered and strewn about the room. The oven was missing, and one wall had an enormous hole in it, letting the radiation storm in. The Courier saw no threats or useful items, so he slammed the door to try to preserve his semi-clean atmosphere in the family room. Regardless, his Pip-Boy clicked a few times to warn him of the rads he was exposed to. He looked around the family room for anything useful, and caught a glimpse of something under the Super-Mutant's body. He holstered his revolver, with some difficulty, as the holster was on the opposite hip as the hand he was holding the weapon in, and stabbed the Super-Mutant in the base of his skull. He used the machete to pull the Mutant up and off whatever it had been on. Immediately, the Ghoul that the Mutant had landed on lunged forward, but the Courier turned and kicked his left cowboy boot out backward. He turned back and found that his spur had impaled the Ghoul's eye. He kicked it off, pulled his machete out of the Mutant, and looked at the floor.
There was a steel trapdoor in the floor, and when he opened it, the Courier found a cellar. He dropped past the six-step ladder, and looked around. There was Nuka Cola, which he had only seen a few times before, a safe, and some Cram, Dandy Boy Apples, and Fancy Lads Snack Cakes. The Courier allowed himself a small smile as he noticed that Dandy Boy and Fancy Lad were basically the same thing. He took two Nuka Colas and approached the safe. He dropped one Nuka Cola into a large pocket and opened the other one, setting it on top of the safe. And he set about figuring out the combination.
The Lone Wanderer was, well, wandering alone when he came across a town. He had just run out of a large rad storm, and had to find a house to get into. He saw a house that was mostly intact, but the front door was locked. He was an adept lock pick, but he didn't want the hassle. Instead of go in the front door, he climbed the side of the house and stepped into an upstairs window. He was careful not to snag his armor on anything, or it would tear off his entire armored Vault 101 Jumpsuit. Once inside, he started to walk down the stairs. He wasn't terribly stealthy, but he knew at least how to remain unheard, if not unseen. When he reached the bottom step, he saw some Feral Ghouls and a Super-Mutant, but didn't want to waste ammunition. He crept back up the stairs and fell into a bed. He closed his eyes, and was soon asleep.
The Sole Survivor approached the house from the back, hoping to get inside before the huge rad storm hit. He found a hole in the wall to the kitchen, so he went in there. As soon as the storm hit, there would be gaseous rads pouring through the hole, and he wanted to be in a different room by then. His armored Gray Vault 111 Jumpsuit was hardly suitable for resisting radiation, and he had already exhausted his stores of RadX. He found a windowless dining room off the kitchen, and crept into it, closing the door completely silently behind him. No sooner did he close the door as the storm hit, and rads poured in the hole. He started to sit and rest, but then heard something. He wasn't sure what it was, but the second noise he heard was easily recognized. A Super-Mutant growling. A split second afterward, he heard three gunshots and a dull but somehow hollow thump. Then, there was a fourth gunshot and a muffled, almost imperceptible scraping sound. After that were two more thumps. The Sole Survivor crept to the door to the kitchen. He opened it a sliver and peered out. Someone opened a second door that he hadn't noticed, and stuck in their head. The Sole Survivor saw a cowboy hat with an Ace in it, a curled mustache, and a matching strip of beard, and hard brown eyes. He heard the familiar clicking of a Pip-Boy exposed to rads, and the man pulled his head back into the other room. The Sole Survivor crept silently toward the door. The rad storm made his Pip-Boy click like mad, or it would've had he not adjusted it. Now, it only vibrated so that he could stay silent. He kept a watchful eye on the rad meter, and when it reached high levels, he took a RadAway. He usually took one just before he vomited, which was about the time when his mind would start to go and he might turn into a Feral Ghoul over time. He finally reached the door, and opened it a crack. Inside, he saw a leather coat disappear into a trapdoor just before it slammed closed. Around it were the bloody corpses of some ghouls, and a Super-Mutant with a hole for an eye. He stalked into the room, keeping to the shadows, of which there were plenty. He had almost reached the trapdoor when he heard a creak and a whispered curse. His gaze snapped up to some nearby stairs, where another man was creeping toward the same trapdoor. The Sole Survivor's gray 111 Jumpsuit helped to hide him, but a few more steps and the other man would certainly see him. He saw that the man was wearing a Vault Jumpsuit as well, but it was blue. He had the same scraps of leather armor that the Sole Survivor had as well. The only obvious difference between their outfits was the Jumpsuits, which, once again, were only different in color.
"Who are you?" the Sole Survivor asked before the man had reached him. Much to the Sole Survivor's dismay, there was no reaction of surprise from the other man.
"The Lone Wanderer," he said, without looking up from the trapdoor. The Sole Survivor cocked his head, remembering rumors about the Lone Wanderer. Intending to put the Lone Wanderer off balance with his own title, the Sole Survivor opened his mouth to speak. Before he could, the Lone Wanderer spoke again. "Judging by the fact that you're difficult to see, you have a gray jumpsuit on, you've got scraps of leather armor, and you have a rifle, pistol, and combat knife, I'd say you're the Sole Survivor. But tell me: Sole Survivor of what?" Here was a chance to really put the Lone Wanderer off balance.
"The Sole Survivor of Earth before the Great War." He looked at the Lone Wanderer for any reaction, but received none.
"That's fascinating," the Lone Wanderer said, without a speck of sincerity. "Well, based on your reputation I'd say we're allies. Want to see who's down there?"
"Why else would I be here?"
The Courier had just gotten the safe open when he heard a creak from above. He ignored it, pulling out Stimpaks and RadXs from the safe. He even found a small box of .38 rounds that he could use for his revolvers. He poured those into an ammunition pouch and closed the safe. Just as he was about to climb the ladder into the main part of the house, he heard muffled voices. He decided that the best way to approach the... two men, from the sound of it, would be to take them by surprise. The safe was quite large, but he wouldn't be able to burst out of there. The shelf that had the food on it was too obvious. Finally, he decided on the ladder. He climbed up, hooked one leg behind a rung, and pulled the two pistols from the back of his jeans. When the trapdoor opened, the Courier pointed his weapons at the two faces he saw in front of him. One looked worn and travel-weary, with brown hair, dull green eyes, and a strong face altogether. The other looked a year or two older, but looked shockingly similar. He had a rough beard, but it wasn't full or bushy. He had hard brown eyes, a scarred nose, and a square jaw. Both men recoiled at the sight of the weapons, and the Courier waited for them to be out of the way before he fired. Finally, he untangled his leg from the ladder, his revolvers still pointed at the men, and hopped up past the trapdoor. He then stomped twice and the trapdoor closed. He kept watch on the men, but didn't fire again. They both wore similar jumpsuits, but one was grey with black trim and one was blue with yellow trim. Both men had nearly identical armor over their jumpsuits, but had slightly different weapons. They had the same rifle, but the one with the blue jumpsuit had a Deathclaw hand hanging from his waist, while the one with the grey jumpsuit had a 10mm pistol and a combat knife. Both had their rifles out, but didn't dare raise them. Finally, the Courier lowered his pistols. Still, the two didn't raise their rifles. They knew that the pistols would be faster.
"You two... I recognize you... The Lone Traveler and the Only Survivor, right?" They nodded, and both spoke at the same time. "Pardon?" The Courier asked.
The one in grey answered first. "Sole Survivor. Is what they call me."
"Yeah," The younger one said. "And people call me the Lone Wanderer, not Traveler." The Courier noticed that both trailed off at the end of their sentences, nervous but ready.
"Well, you must have heard about the Daredevil of New Vegas?"
"Sure."
"Of course." The Courier couldn't tell who had said what.
"Well, that's me." He said. "But my actual title is the Courier. I suppose you're here for a reason?"
The Sole Survivor answered first. "To get out of the rad storm."
"Well," the Lone Wanderer said, "I'm passing through on my way to get rid of the Enclave."
Both men turned to look at him.
"I thought you and the Brotherhood of Steel destroyed the Enclave years ago." The Sole Survivor said.
"Yeah, I heard about that a while back, too." The Courier agreed. The Lone Wanderer looked cornered.
"There's a... reincarnation of them a bit to the northwest. This time they've got Power Soldiers and Super-Mutants. And though they're not allied with rad-animals, they've planted themselves in a field of Radroaches, Deathclaws, Radscorpions, and several others that nobody lives to tell about. Least that's what my scout said before he was killed by the Deathclaw that was chasing him." Both the Courier and the Sole Survivor took a minute to think about this. They both started speaking at once.
"If you-"
"Deathclaws-"
"-just find a-"
"-don't travel-"
"-place where-"
"-in groups-"
"-there aren't-"
"-so we could-"
"-as many-"
"-take them out-"
"-animals-"
"-one by one-"
"-you can attack there."
"-and gain access to the compound."
The Lone Wanderer had practiced hearing and comprehending multiple things at once, and knew what each of them had said. The Sole Survivor had said, "Deathclaws don't travel in groups, so we could take them out one by one and gain access to the compound." and the Courier had said, "If you just find a place where there aren't as many animals, you can attack there." The Lone Wanderer addressed the Sole Survivor first.
"You mean to join me?" He asked, surprised.
"Of course," The Sole Survivor said. "Like you said, if reputation is anything, the three of us should be allies." The Lone Wanderer nodded.
"As for your plan, a Deathclaw is equal to twenty or more Radroaches, and they tend to avoid each other. We would do just as well attacking a section with Radroaches. And," The Lone Wanderer continued, turning toward the Courier, "if we find somewhere that there are less Radroaches, we will be able to push through quickly."
"Sure," the Sole Survivor agreed, "but Deathclaws are one of the only species that Radroaches avoid, so even if we find few Radroaches, there're likely to be Bloatflies or Bloodbugs around. Deathclaws, believe it or not, would be the easiest solution." The Lone Wanderer thought for a moment, but finally agreed. The Courier seemed content either way. Both make sense, he thought.
"However," the Sole Survivor added, "if we're going to get a good plan, we need to scout the place."
"Also," the Courier put in, "The Lone Wanderer and the Sole Survivor don't really roll off the tongue. The names are too long and unwieldy. Perhaps you should shorten them. I'm content with Courier; we can even get rid of the 'the.' However, you two should give some names that are easy to communicate with on the battle field, for a coordinated attack." The other two agreed.
"Well, when I was with the Railroad," the Sole Survivor said, "I was called Phantom. That could work." Courier nodded. It was fitting to his stealthy reputation.
"I'm technically a Paladin with the Brotherhood of Steel. 'Paladin' would be good." The Lone Wanderer suggested. Courier nodded again. "And," Paladin continued, "I'm not with the Commonwealth Brotherhood. They're a bunch of synth-killers. I'm actually on good terms with the Railroad." Both Phantom and Courier recognized his words as a way of keeping Phantom from attacking him. The Railroad and the Commonwealth Brotherhood were on bad terms. The Railroad wanted to save synths, and the Brotherhood wanted to eliminate them, and destroy the Railroad. That wouldn't have boded well for either Phantom or Paladin if Paladin was with the Commonwealth Brotherhood of Steel.
"Alright," Courier said, "let's go scope out the place."
In the end, Phantom, Courier, and Paladin decided on a path of Deathclaws. No rad-animals could be seen for a few hundred feet, and there were only about six Deathclaws in front of them anyways. There was a fence around the rad-animals, and another fence, this one barbed and electrified, around the Enclave compound. They had decided on a plan beforehand, and now Phantom was bringing the first part to action. He had climbed the high fence and pulled out his knife, preparing to drop on a Deathclaw trying to knock down the fence and escape. He had done this silently, and the Deathclaw was unaware of him. As Courier and Paladin watched, he dropped, landing on the Deathclaw's head, and stabbed it in the base of the skull. Blood seeped over his hands, but his Pip-Boy didn't vibrate, so he didn't bother clean it off. It slumped loudly forward into the fence, but the next Deathclaw was several dozen feet away and didn't hear. Phantom crept in behind him, waited for a moment, and then lunged past it and split its belly open. The Deathclaw tried, in vain, to catch his insides before they hit the ground, but the failure to do so was his last thought before his death. When Paladin knew he wouldn't be seen by the next closest Deathclaw, he stuck the barrel of his rifle into a gap in the chain link. Phantom ghosted across the grassy land-or phantom-ed, Paladin joked to himself-to the next Deathclaw. When he reached it, he leaped up to its height and stabbed it through the roof of the mouth. Blood, brain matter, and some shattered bits of skull rained into the beast's mouth, but it didn't taste anything. It had died instantly. This time, one of the Deathclaws heard its companion fall, but took a minute to spot Phantom in the evening gloom. Having already been spotted, Phantom abandoned stealth. He pulled out his 10mm pistol out and emptied his extended clip into the belly of the beast. There was a splatter of blood every time a bullet hit, until finally it fell forward into the grass. After Phantom killed it, the remaining two roared. Paladin saw some of the other rad-animals shy away from the noise. Courier slashed the fence open with his razor-sharp machete and burst through, pulling out a revolver as he went.
When he was within earshot of Phantom, he yelled. "Now!" and dove to the left. Phantom did the same, and Paladin fired into the next Deathclaw's maw. One left, now. Courier rolled to his feet, and Phantom came to a kneeling position. When Courier ran at him, he used his hands to enhance Courier's jump, throwing him several feet above the Deathclaw. When he came back down, Courier stabbed the Deathclaw with all of his strength and momentum through the eye. Blood poured down its face, dripping down its neck and shoulder, and finally dripping off its claws into the grass. With the last Deathclaw dead, Paladin jogged forward to join them. Together, they walked toward the Enclave fortress.