So, some strange stuff has happened in the game. For some reason beyond me, the White Legs are all non-hostile. I can literally run up and click on them. They still fight the Dead Horses and the Sorrows, but they pay no mind to me at all. I've read a little bit about it online...seems like it's happened to a few people. And at least one says they couldn't finish the DLC when it happened...so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I don't have to start the DLC over. Of course, if I do, it's really no big deal.

I've been suffering from a bit of writer's block this week...I just couldn't think of what I wanted to write about. It took me a long while to get into the flow of it. I didn't want to post anything I wasn't pleased with...so I made you guys wait. Hopefully this writer's block passes soon. It's a pain in the ass.

I was thinking of including a few flashback scenes here and there for Randall Clark in the future...or of writing short piece entirely on his character. Let me know which you all would prefer. If you want me to include him in flashback sequences, like I did Sinclair and Vera in Aces & Eights let me know. Or...if you'd rather Clark gets his own story entirely, let me know. Be aware though, if Clark gets his own story I likely won't write it until the 18 Karat Run series is completely finished.

Anyway, Enjoy.

"So I finally get to explore all the places the elders think are taboo?" Chalk's voice was near ecstatic.

Six laughed, casually nodding. "Pretty much. Graham wants us to pick up some supplies…"

"Yes!" Chalk excitedly interrupted. "The things we need will be at the general store. Come! I'll show you." Chalk scurried off quickly. The Mojave Trio fell in line behind him.

During their trip back from the Sierra Madre…Boone had said little to nothing. There were times, even in the Mojave, he would go days without saying a word. Which is why Six found it strange that this silence, in particular, was getting under his skin. Boone hadn't said anything to him since their discussion about Graham…and that had only been a few hours before. Still, this silence was different. All consuming. Colder.

"What do you think about this Graham character, Boss?"

Raul's words pulled Six from his thoughts.

"I'm not sure yet, Raul."

"He has quite the reputation, that's for sure. He says he couldn't lead the Legion…I'm not too sure about that." Raul traced his thumb and forefinger across the mustache perched on his upper lip.

"People change though."

With a grunt, Boone quickened his pace. Leaving Six and Raul to their discussion.

Six continued. "I mean, I'm a pretty good case, right? From what I've been able to gather…I worked with some bad people before my…accident."

"You're working for some arguably bad people now, Boss."

"Caesar?" Six shrugged. "Not working for him so much as I'm working towards removing him from the equation."

"I don't know, Boss. I don't really have a problem with the Legion."

"No?"

"People tend to see them as an invading band of marauders intent on massacring and pillaging the countryside…but I've been to Arizona. Before and after the Legion. Back then, it was a nasty place…so thick with raiders that you couldn't trade with a town two miles up the road."

"And now?"

"From what I understand, Boss…Arizona has stability now. It's safe. If it had been back when I was living there…it would have saved me a lot of grief and spared me some old wounds. Caesar's laws aren't nice, and their actions aren't always pretty. But neither am I, Boss, but you still keep me around."

Six laughed to himself. "I don't know, Raul. I mean…the roads may be safer, but the Legion takes what it wants. At least with smaller raider tribes you can fight back. With something as big as the Legion…they'll roll over anyone that stands in their way."

"Maybe…" Raul shrugged. "But many would argue that the safety the Legion provides is worth the means to get there."

"Safety? Sure, so long as you don't cross Caesar or you're not a woman," Boone's voice was filled with spite. "You might want to have a look at this."

Six made his way past Boone and towards Follows-Chalk, who had taken a knee and was looking down into the canyon.

"See this?" Chalk motioned towards the canyon – the remains of a long destroyed bus littered its floor. "This is why your own two feet are better than any cart. Whether they're pulled by animals or move on their own."

"What's so impor…" Then he saw them. The impaled bodies of the Happy Trails Caravan Company. Dismembered. Bare. Bodies separated from heads. Their glassy eyes staring into the bus. "What the fuck…"

"The White Legs," Chalk replied. His voice despondent. "Why do you think they're looking into the cart?"

"I don't know," Six answered. "But I aim to find out." Six made his way around the crevice until he found an area he could reasonably traverse, then began his descent; occasionally losing his footing. Red bits of rock splashed into the water below.

He was waist deep in water now, holding his holorifle high above his head. When he had made it to the bus he stopped and peered inside. It was Jed. Bound. Gagged. Barely breathing. Unconscious. But alive.

Behind him he could hear the descent of his comrades. He eerily stepped towards Jed when a hand caught his shoulder. It was Boone.

"I don't like this," Boone's voice was barely audible. He ventured silently into the bus – pistol drawn and low. Like a cat, he observed his surroundings. Then he was next to Jed. He knelt beside him and cautiously gave him a onceover.

"He's been poisoned," Chalk whispered. "The White Legs use the sacred datura root to make lethal venoms." He pointed at a large laceration along Jed's shoulder. The skin around the wound was a combination of purple and red. Infection had set in. "We need to get him back to the Dead Horses camp. The shaman's there…"

"We're not moving this man," Boone cut in. "He's laying on a mine."

"Fuck…" Six shook his head. "Even if we could cure him…"

Boone finished Six's trail of thought. "He's not going anywhere."

Follows-Chalk's eyes widened. "You can't…You can't leave him here."

Six looked up at the tribal…a boy really. His eyes shining with sympathy. "No. No we can't…Chalk, you take Raul and go on ahead to the general store. Boone and I will catch up in a bit."

Boone looked up, almost in protest – but stopped when he saw Chalk's face. "Yeah…I can disarm the mine. We'll take him back to your camp."

Follows-Chalk seemed to lighten up at this thought. He nodded energetically. "Of course!" He turned to Raul. "Come friend. This way." He quickly disappeared from site.

Raul followed suit. Stopping a moment to lay a sympathetic hand on Six's shoulder. "You're alright, Boss."

Six and Boone sat in relative silence for a long time. Until Six was sure that Follows chalk was out of earshot. With a deep breath, Six looked at Boone. "Do it."

Boone stood a safe distance away from the man. He raised his sidearm and took aim. After a long beat he lowered it again.

Confused, Six tilted his head. "Something wrong?"

"No," Boone swallowed and took aim again. After a moment of silence, he held his breath…and fired. The shot echoed throughout the canyon. Six couldn't be sure…he may have imagined it…but for a moment, he saw the man of iron falter. As Boone took aim, his hands were shaking.

They buried the corpses of their comrades in the valley - beneath the red rock - in unmarked graves.

"For as long as I can remember, the elders of the Dead Horses have thought the places of the Old World were taboo. Doesn't seem very dangerous to me."

They were inside the ranger station, just north of the general store. Searching for supplies.

"I mean…" Chalk observed the bodies of the bark scorpions he and Raul had dispatched upon entering. "Outside of…natural threats."

Raul smiled kindly. "So, amigo…" He motioned to Chalk's tattoos. "What are those markings for?"

"The Dead Horses commemorate our hunts with tattoos. When a hunter takes a great beast…or when a youth goes on his first hunt, he gets a tattoo."

"Ah…" Raul rubbed his chin. "History writes of similar things done by tribes from long before the war…Hell, even after the tribes disbanded and gangs took their place."

"Joshua says that tribes are linked families. That even more civilized groups are tribes."

"Does he?" Raul nodded briefly in agreement. "I guess I wouldn't argue with that. You look up to him, don't you?"

"Yes. I was very young when I met him first. He was different then…prouder. Harder…crueler. I was terrified of him. But when he came back, I couldn't believe it was the same man. He was no longer a destroyer…but a protector. He was more humble…if it wasn't for Joshua, the Dead Horses would still be the whipping boys of Zion."

"The second time you met him…that was after he…left…the Legion."

"Yes. He was no longer servant to the man called Caesar. His master banished him after his loss to a tribe called Enseeyar."

Raul chuckled softly. "Enseeyar?"

"Yes. The sunset people," Chalk scooped up a dusty, broken compass. He blew on the surface and frowned.

"Let me have a look," Raul reached for it.

Reaching it to him, Chalk continued. "His master was in a dispute with these sunset people over a dam…why two civilized tribes fight over something as small as a dam, I do not know."

Raul looked up from the compass briefly. "Small? You've obviously never seen the Hoover Dam. It's as big as many of the mesas here."

Chalk's eyes widened in disbelief. "No? Really! My gods! That's incredible!" He smiled to himself. "I long to see the civilized lands. When I was a boy, a man came through the valley with one of the caravans. A tall man with a big mustache, carried a guitar. The interpreter told me he was a traveling singer. When I asked what that was, the man explained that he went from place to place and sang to people. They gave him food and shelter and care in return."

Raul sat his hand on his revolver – ivory grip with a silver finish. "Yeah, I think I know the one you're talking about."

"You do?" Chalk's voice nearly squeaked with excitement. "Then you know! I could hardly believe that there was a place in this world where a man could do what he does…so I promised myself that one day I would explore that land for myself."

Raul sighed. "You might find, when you're out in the world…it's not as civilized as you'd hoped."

Chalk sank a little at the thought. "Still…I would like to see it for myself."

Raul nodded considerately, then held up the compass. The needle spun and pointed north. "Here you go, kid."

"Excellent!" He stuffed the compass into a li'l scout lunchbox, along with a pair of walkie-talkies. "Now, all we need is to find a medical supply kit…we should be able to find one at Ranger Station Osprey a little ways from here."

The door behind them creaked open. "No worries…" Six entered, rummaging through his pouch, and withdrew a Doctor's bag. Stuffed inside it was an assortment of stimpacks, antivenom, surgical tubing, and other supplies. "I've got you covered."

"Great!" Chalk's grin stretched from ear to ear. "That's everything! Now the only thing left to do is to get these supplies back to Daniel at the Sorrows camp!" Then more timidly, "Were you able to save your friend?"

Six looked away from Follows-Chalk...he understood and responded with a sigh. "We did everything we could…Where is the Sorrows Camp…" Six stopped. Across the room, above the fireplace were three teddy bears. On one of them was a rattan cowboy hat…not unlike the one ever present on the head of Cass. Six bit his lip and made his way across the room at a snail's pace. He removed the hat and rolled it over in his hands. Then looked back at the teddy-bear. It was unremarkable, much like the other two that sat above the fireplace on either side of it. But something caught Six's eye. Wrapped around its neck was a petite silver chain necklace. On it was an pair of engraved rings. He carefully took the necklace and examined it closely – thinking back to the rose pendant around Cass's neck and the pitiful wire that it was attached to.

"I think she'll love it, Boss."

Six cast a glance over his shoulder and at Raul. He gazed back down at the necklace for a long moment then placed it within his pocket.

They traveled south upon exiting the ranger station, past the general store until the path forked ahead of them. Then east until they reached the river.

"It'd probably be safer to stay close to the river," Chalk suggested. "We'll travel north here until we reach the Sorrows camp."

Chalk took point, with Boone close behind him. The group walked in relative silence. They hadn't traveled far when white paint along the rocks caught Six's eye. Over a dozen handprints decorating the canyon wall. Marking the entrance to a cave…

Six peered into the depths of the cave…

"What'd you say these markings were for?"

Chalk followed his gaze. "The white ones mark holy places. Taboo still…but not the same as the old places. This is Cueva Guarache…"

Six cocked his head to the side and turned to the group. "Let's do some exploring."

The inside of the cave was dimly lit by glowing fungus. Follows-Chalk would periodically stop to gather it. "The cave fungus has many herbal uses…" He explained. "We'd be wise to gather some of it."

"Have at it," Six said, waving his hands. They ventured further through the narrow corridors. They eventually came upon a fork…though one path was covered with brush. Six pushed through it to find a locked door. After a few futile attempts at picking it, he elected to go back the other way – deeper into the cave system. At the next junction he paused. "Well whi-gahhh!"

He was ambushed; a snarling green man…beast?...was on him. Frothing out the mouth, stinking of sap and mold. Boone stepped forward quickly, punting the creature with his boot – connecting firmly on the side of its head. It rolled off Six and leaped back to its feet. Raul quickly drew his sawed off shotgun and fired – spraying bodily fluids across the cave wall.

"Holy…what in the fuck…" Six struggled to his feet. "What the hell was that?!"

"Plant people…they have been here as long as I remember…"

"Christ!" Six dusted himself off. Six stepped forward, but Boone grabbed his arm. He raised a single hand to his mouth, hushing Six, then pointed. In the cave, not twenty yards from where they stood was a plant swaying silently.

Six cast Boone a confused stare.

"No wind…" Boone explained. He fumbled around the cave floor, lifting a small stone. Then chucked it at the plant…it's mouth opened and snapped shut; completely devouring the stone.

"You're shitting me…" Six raised a brow.

Boone took aim and fired, tearing through the plant's stem. It toppled to the ground and convulsed violently for a moment. Then went silent. Deeper inside the cave they fought off a number of the creatures. At one point one of the plants spit at Six, covering his armor in a viscous slime. The odor was horrid.

"You're lucky," Chalk chimed.

"Yeah, I get that a lot…"

"If that spit had hit you in the face, you'd have gone blind…" He explained. "It's highly toxic."

Before long they reached what seemed to be an old camp site. Strewn about were a variety of supplies – grenades, mines, ammunition. The group collected the bulk of it. Then something caught Six's eye…the familiar flicker of a computer terminal. The terminal was in surprisingly good shape – drawing power from two fission batteries beneath the desk. Boone knelt beside some makeshift bedding and began to rummage through an old duffle bag.

Six sat at the terminal. He flipped through the entries…almost a dozen of them. About a woman named Sylvie...pregnant, stillborn…both dead; a boy named Alex; vault dwellers…coughers, the entry called them; the great war, how it failed in comparison to fatherhood; A strange name…Char?...how the author had failed her; the prospect of ending it all.

Six sank in his chair. "This stuff is intense…"

Raul peered over his shoulder. "Life is rarely forgiving, Boss."

By nightfall they were in the Sorrows camp. It had long since started raining. Upon reaching the camp they were greeted by a woman – shaved head, wearing a blue cloth loincloth with a matching top. She wore an adorned feather neckpiece. Wielding a fearsome gauntlet.

"You are the one Joshua Graham has sent to us."

Six raised a brow. "Word travels fast…"

She smiled kindly. "Joshua sent word ahead that you would be here soon. Blessings of the Father in the Caves upon you."

This again. "Right. The…Father in the Caves."

"Have you not heard of the God of the New Canaanites?"

"Some."

"The Father in the Caves is our protector. Our judge. He helped our ancestors to find our place here in Zion…He gave us many gifts, but asked that we do not seek him out. His caves are forbidden to us…as are the places of the old world. Those who seek them out are lost to us."

"That…doesn't sound like the same God Joshua explained to me…"

The woman smiled. "Perhaps you do not fully understand the New Canaanites…Daniel awaits you. He can tell you more than I…but alas, the moon is high in the night sky. You should rest. Please, follow me."

So a couple things I wanted to note. As some of you may have noticed I've added an additional piece to the 18 Karat Run series. Focusing entirely on Joshua Graham and his backstory. Now...I was discussing with Vect the character and he brought up something interesting. I do not intend to have Graham wearing the SWAT outfit he's wearing in game while he's in the legion. Even if word of God is that's what he wore...it doesn't make sense to me. Particularly since it was caught on fire...yeah. So I'm going to be giving him a different armor. But Vect brought up the notion that Graham wouldn't wear armor like Lanius's armor...and I agree. It would be too heavy, bog him down. Originally I was going to put him in the Armor of the 87th Tribe...because it's just badass. But yeah, I agree with Vect. So my question is...if he's not going to be wearing the SWAT outfit, what should his signature armor (pre-burned man) be? Or should I go ahead with the Armor of the 87th Tribe?

There was something else...but for the life of me I don't remember what it was now. Oh well. Until next time.