He's been in here for about a month now and he has no inkling of an idea on how to escape. As long as this so called 'Magical Lock' stands in his way he can't pick it. Damn it!

This is probably the reason why trying to go to Big Mountain while a dust storm raged on was a really horrendous idea. Teleportation was a fickle thing and he sure as hell proved that. Seriously, if one of the guards opened the door just a little bit he would've broken out no sweat.

The Courier had been called many things in his life, the Strange Hero of the wastes, the Unrelenting Deliverer, Crazy Motherfucker, but being called a Daemon was a new one. Actually no it wasn't, but the people here seemed to genuinely call him that. Just Daemon, nothing else to add to the title.

All he did was just teleport into the prison and he found himself surrounded by guards in the strangest garbs he had ever seen. He thought it was some weird roleplay thing he stumbled upon, but the sharp spears said otherwise. He tries to talk his way out, but being labeled a Daemon seemed to throw that out the window. So they stripped him to his underwear and threw him in this cell.

They served him food that other people would probably find disgusting and abhorrent, but anything is better than a grilled radroach.

Everything is simply out of whack here, it's stranger than the brains in jars that call themselves scientists. There were these irradiated beasts that were huge and had fur all over that he's never seen before that get thrown down into the hole right next to his, who then proceed to get killed by the sounds of it. The guards called those things Daemons and The Courier sure as hell didn't look like those things. Those things could probably take on a Deathclaw and put up one hell of a fight.

Who knows when he'll get thrown down there next, the guards seemed eager to throw his ass down there. Though mostly warnings to make him shut his mouth. He could probably kick that thing's ass, tied up if they wanted him to be.

Color him surprised when a strange woman came out of nowhere, opened up the grate leading into the hole and jumping down. He could barely hear the faint sounds of talking, then a fight before it quickly ended. He would've chalked it up to another dead person in the hole, before he simply saw the 'Magic Lock' break.

This was his chance, but before he could get to picking the lock with the fork he used for eating he heard the distinct sound of ladder climbing. It wasn't a couple of seconds later did he see two women round about to his cell. The random redhead he recognized to be the one to jump down, but the new girl with tattered clothes? Was she the one that was down there, gathering herself a little body pile?

"I don't suppose you can break me out?" He could still easily pick the lock, but it wouldn't hurt to ask.

"Depends. If I get you out, will you help me get out of here?" The tattered woman had a fierce look in her eyes. There was something familiar about the way they looked. He didn't recognize the woman, but the eyes told a story that he could easily recognize.

"Are you sure you can trust a stranger to help?" The red haired one said.

"I'll use tool I have at my disposal. So will you help, or will not?"

Of course he recognized that fierce look in her eyes, she was on a quest for revenge. A feeling all too familiar to him.

"I will." It was a firm answer, but it was enough for the girl.

She simply grabbed the bars and pulled them right out of the wall. This impressive display of strength was not lost on The Courier. Fuck it, he wasn't going to question it till he got out of here.

"Don't fall behind." The girl said as she lead the way, followed by the red head.

He followed the duo up a couple flight of stairs and ended up in some kind of supply room with two dead guards.

"No one raised the alarm, not yet." The redhead said.

The tattered girl didn't say anything as she observed the room around her. The Courier meanwhile took a look at the spears the two dead guards had. They looked in great condition! Maybe he should take these and sell them? They'll no doubt catch a high price in caps.

"This is where they keep the prisoners' affects." He heard the red haired one say.

He took his eyes off the spears on the ground and looked around the supply room. If what she said was true, then his clothes must he in here somewhere.

The three rummaged through a couple of boxes, or at least him and the tattered girl. He found some knives he could probably sell, a weird curved sword he could definitely sell, and other miscellaneous items. Did no one have guns, that would be useful.

After a small search query he managed to find his brown duster, blue cowboy pants, and a plain white shirt to go with the duster. It was strangely folded and cleaned inside one of the boxes. That was nice of the guards, but still didn't quite give them the right to throw him in jail in the first place.

Where the hell was his Pipboy? It contained just about everything else he had. He needed his guns. He gave up after he swept the area twice. He found some more small weapons he could probably sell and placed the ones he found in a backpack he would borrow for a while. People called him a hoarder, but the thing is: hoarding can make you rich.

The redhead and tattered woman were having a small conversation about some sword. The tattered woman seemed to have changed into some different clothes, it was a little better, but still looked tattered. Oh well, raiders probably had weirder clothing choices. Anyway he was carrying enough weapons to distribute it to a small army. He gave the sword a quick look over, but needed to stick to the smaller ones that would fit in his bag.

"You have a rather strange outfit." The redhead said.

He simply pointed to the tattered woman with a brow raised.

"What's going o-" It would seem a guard stepped in, just to be pierced in the throat by a blade that seemed to come out of device on the tattered woman's arm.

"Nice." He said as crouched next to the recently deceased guard to loot him of any valuables. He would strip him and sell his armor, but he didn't have his Pipboy on him, so he'll just take helmet to sell later.

"I don't think you've graced us with your name." The redhead said.

Oh, so she wants know his name huh? He doubts that they'll know each other long, so he'll just keep things simple.

"I'm just a Courier, Ma'am"

Both of the women gave him a very blank look. As to be expected.

"What's a simple Courier doing in a prison like this?"

The Courier chuckled. If only they knew he wasn't a simple Courier.

…..

Just a one shot/interest check. This was just an idea that wouldn't leave my head. I don't have much intention on continuing this, unless this somehow gets popular or my interest shifts and I already have a chapter out.