Hey guys and gals, this chapter is the calm before the storm, before the trip to remnant, so I hope you like it.
Quick question, how long do you guys think I should make the chapters?
The brothers remained silent, leaving the void in a complete lack of sound, the younger of the gods, waited for his brother to respond to his last statement.
It is odd for the brothers to be this quite, they are the embodiment of light and dark, life and death, creation and destruction, ideologically speaking, it is their duty to clash (plus, they ARE family).
So the fact that both of them are coexisting in the same plane of existence, without quarreling with one another, is, in all honesty, making the creator of the Grimm feel a bit unconformable.
"You are right."
"What?" Surely he misheard that.
"I said, you are right." Repeated the god of light.
Hearing his brother say that he was right in anything was a first for the dark entity. However, it did not make him feel accomplished, nor superior to his brother (as he always assumed he would feel), instead, the feeling of nonconformity grew, after all, it is unnatural for the light to agree with the dark.
"I am right in ..."
"The humans, they have not learned a thing."
"Huh?"
"They have lived hundreds of years in Remnant, and yet, they have not changed at all, always making the same mistakes, over and over again."
"I..."*Sigh.* Understanding what his brother meant, the dark one lets out a heavy sigh. "This is their nature brother, to build they need to destroy, to destroy they need to build, is a cycle."
"The sun rises every day, and yet all days are different." The older one replied. "The cycles are always going to be the same, however, there is always something different, even if it is just a small detail, but Remnant has not changed at all since we left, maybe this is caused by our help, or maybe because of the witch, or maybe..."
"Maybe?"
"Maybe it is time for a change."
*Yawn*
"Tired already, boss? It's barely pass eight."
We cut to the scene of two men chatting in a saloon, one of the men being the bartender, who is behind the bar cleaning some glass, while the other one, the owner of the place, is next to the bar, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
"Well, last night, I had to do some important ''paperwork'' outside the town." Retells the big man. "So, I didn't have that much sleep."
"Hmm, well, that explains the bandages, and why Steven and Carl didn't show up to their shifts tonight. What happened? Did the paper gave you a lot of trouble, boss?"
The bartender is a blond man near his forties, and he's been working for Robert for at least ten years now. He's a crooked man, like most of the people here, but unlike most people, he knows which side is the best for him.
"Just a few paper cuts, nothing to worry about."
"With all due respect, sir, I don't think Steven and Carl will agree with you."
"They should have taken cover when I told them, they'll be fine, I gave them the rest of the week off."
"How thoughtful of you."
Being a businessman is no easy feat, you have to provide and maintain quality services and products that can satisfy your customers, have a somewhat good image with the public and the so-called authorities, among many other things. So when a bunch of good for nothing scoundrels, come to your town and try to take you out of business, well, they must be put in their place.
"I know that sometimes when you want something done right, you have to do it yourself, but was the issue really that important?"
"No, no it wasn't, but I wanted to have it done before today."
"A special occasion?"
"You can say that, one of our dear VIP members will come tonight, so stay in the lookup for her."
"Should I light the candles and bring out the nice dinner plates too, boss?"
"Remember to me why I haven't sewed your mouth shut?"
"I like to think that is because I bring a feeling of warmth and comfort to the saloon."
Ha, yeah, keep thinking that.
"By the way, sir, speaking of being in the lookup, what about him?"
The bartender motions with his head a far table near the entrance, where a lone wanderer sits, eating his meal. The man has been in the town for more than a week, and since the first day he came through the door, the bar owner knew he was something else.
Snake fancies himself a mercenary (and maybe he is), but some of his actions tell otherwise, the way he walks, sits, and even talks, shows a military background.
Robert has heard rumors of military organizations such as the Enclave and the Sisterhood (or was it Fatherhood?) of Steel on both the west coast and east coast. However, there aren't many of those types of groups running around in Texas and the surrounding areas, the Legion and other tribes have been making sure of that.
The pub owner didn't check the man's bags (company policies), but he knows the weight and forms of guns and armors, and let me tell you something, Snake is carrying enough of both to start a fucking coup d'état in here.
He is also really pale for a simple Wastelander, just considering this fact and his Pip-boy, and anybody could classify him as a Vault dweller. However, Vault dwellers tend to be a … how do I put it? Innocent? Gullible? Yes, gullible, they tend to be a bit gullible, and Snake isn't, he's someone with experience, who has had his share fair of battles.
"Keep an eye on him, he's not a threat … for now."
"Yes, boss."
He tried to recruit him, but since he declined, that means that either he is telling the truth or he's already working for someone else. If it's the former, well, that just makes him just another client, but if it's the latter, then he may become a problem later on.
Either way, he's an interesting customer, most of these fools just want some beer, food, and sex, they think there's nothing else worthwhile. A bunch of animals who can hardly think of the tomorrow, without aspirations, without a greater purpose, nothing, although, is sooo damn easy to make a profit out of their stupidity.
People like us know that there's always something bigger out there, I'm actually going to miss him, I'm getting tired of these fools, and he was a breath of fresh air, it's been a while since someone so intriguing crossed my door.
As Robert monologues in his mind, the front doors open, revealing a heavily armed man who enters the saloon, all of the people stopped what they were doing and turned around to stare at the man.
Obviously, a newcomer to the town, the fact that he was a stranger wasn't what attracted so many eyes, after all, this is a market town, it's common to see new faces every day. What did catch the attention were all the weapons and gear this guy is packing.
This is the Wasteland for fuck's sake, if you want to survive you're going to need some firepower at your disposal, everybody knows that, and half of the people in the bar probably own that many firearms. What they didn't do was parade them around all at once, not even Arms Merchants carry that many weapons.
Seriously, what's this guy's deal? A bunch of knives strapped all over his body, a backpack that has about thirty gun barrels coming out of it, a coat that clearly has a shit ton of guns in it, I mean at least the rest of the people tried to look civilized, this guy didn't give a Brahmin ass about it.
Either a gun nut mercenary or an Arms Merchant who loves his job way too much. Is that a fucking golden Pip-Boy? How has nobody mugged him?- Oh, yeah, the guns.
The newcomer ignores all eyes and walks towards the bar, he possesses tanned skin, proper of someone who has worked hard hours below the hot sun, he uses a straw cowboy hat, and strays of black hair can be seen underneath it. He reaches the bar tiredly and sits on a stool.
"Welcome to Dante's, what can I get you?" Greeted, the bartender, to his new customer.
"What's the strongest alcohol you have?"
"Right now? I have Vodka and Absinthe."
"I'll take every ounce you can give me."
The bartender brings out a shot glass, and bottle of Absinthe from under the counter, and starts purring the drink in the glass.
"Rough day?"
"Rough month."
"Heh, you and me both, buddy."
The gun nut takes the glass and drinks its containments in less than a second. The bartender, seeing what type of drinker his customer is, takes the glass off his hands and offers him the whole bottle instead.
"Thanks."
"Anytime, I'll bring you another one."
While the bartender goes to the back to get more alcohol, the mysterious stranger takes a long sip from the bottle, almost finishing the drink in one go, and lets out a low groan, the man is clearly tired from his long day. The armed man lets his forehead rest over the bar for a moment.
Someone give this guy a coffee, seriously, I had to oversee the burial of a bunch of dead (and somewhat dead) assholes, and even I am not THAT tired.
As the newcomer straightens on the stool, he fixes his hat and attracts Robert's attention to a small detail that the bar owner had previously overlook, a bandage on the left side of his forehead.
Now, cuts, bruises, scars, and other types of injuries are nothing uncommon, but that bandage felt out of place. It looks clean like he just put it on, however, if that's the case, then there should be some trace of blood on it. And he purposely fixed his hat to hide the bandage.
Interesting.
"Here you go." Said the bartender as he comes back from the back and places three bottles of vodka on the bar.
"Keep them heading my way."
"Gladly."
Mmmh, perhaps I won't get bored after all.
This guy would make Lucky Harith proud. Thought the Wanderer, as he takes the last bite of his meal.
The armed stranger attracted the attention of the vault dweller (as well as everybody else in the saloon) with his array of weapons, most sane people wouldn't carry that many guns for everyone to see, at least the Wanderer conceal them in his bags and clothing. So he's either a paranoid mercenary or just someone who doesn't give a crap.
It seems Robert has taken an interest in him as well, he could be more subtle, the man just arrived, and Robert's eyes have been following him the whole time.
Unlike Robert, who is probably scheming against this man already, the Wanderer just wanted to see if he could represent a problem or solution to his meeting of tonight. The ex-member of the Brotherhood has made a list of people that may become an enemy or allied if his encounter with the Doctor goes wrong (curiously enough, Robert is number one in both possible enemies and possible allies). He also made a list of innocent people who are better to avoid to not get them hurt.
Suddenly, a green light pops up from his Pip-Boy, indicating that he has a new message. Lifting his right arm and going into the data section of the Pip-Boy (Misc.), he checks the message. It came from the mothership, and it wasn't long text, it just contained four words; we need to talk.
Oh no.
"Is something wrong, honey?" Sharyl asked as she arrives to the table and picks up his empty plate.
"It's nothing Sharyl, I just need a smoke, could you keep an eye on my things while I go outside for a moment?"
"Sure thing Hon, but I better get a bigger tip for this." She responded with a wink.
"Thanks, Sharyl, I'll be right back."
And with that, the vault boy stands up from his seat and goes outside. The streets of the town, although not empty, began to have fewer people, street vendors started calling it a day and were picking up their stuff to either go home or hit the road, kids were already called by their parents and the only ones who are actively roaming the town are the guards.
The Wanderer walks carefully to the alleyway next to Dantes's, once there, he checks the surrounding area, and his Pip-Boy's map, to be sure he's alone.
"One Oh One here, over." Said while opening the communication link to the Mothership.
"Hello, friend, good to hear from you again." A deep voice greeted him over the transmition.
"Hey Fawkes, good to hear you too. Is everything alright? Please tell me Charon hasn't kill Butch."
"No, he has not, but the rest of the crew are starting to bet on how long will Charon's patience last."
"But, of course, they are."
His companions are a … let's say odd bunch; from ghouls and super mutants (sorry, meta humans) to vault dwellers and former slaves, they all come from different paths of life, have different ideas on how the world works and those ideas tend cause fights between them, however, they always brush it off the next day as nothing happened. They don't all like each other, but they do respect one another.
"Hehehe, although I do not defend their actions, we all need something to laugh at and relax."
"I guess you're right, so what's the problem? Are you all alright?"
"Yes, we are fine, the rest already went to their quarters, but since you did not respond to the last message, we wanted to make sure you were okay."
"We?"
*Bark, Bark* The familiar bark of his canine companion reaches his ears.
"Hey, Dogmeat!"
*Bark, Bark*
"Who's a good boy? Do you miss me?"
"The puppy has been sad since you left, so I thought that maybe hearing your voice would make him feel better."
*Bark, Bark* The happy barking continued from the animal.
Hearing Dogmeat's happy barking made him feel much better and less stressed. He loves that dog, he has an appreciation for all his companions, he trusts them with his life, and they would do the same, but Dogmeat will always have a special place in his heart, that little mud has always been there for him.
"Don't worry, you little mud, I'm fine, and I'll be back soon."
"Have you meet with the Doctor yet?"
"No, I haven't, she hasn't arrived yet."
"What happens if she does not show up?"
A question he's been asking himself the whole week, he hardly knew anything about her, no one in the town gave him answers, the name he got is most likely a false one, and the only ones who could help him are dead.
"Well, in that case, we should search for more Enclave remnants, maybe they can give us a clue about the Doctor's whereabouts."
"Mmmh, sounds like another wild goose chase."
"Heh, I guess it does, but then again, you could probably summarise most of my life with that phrase."
(Speech check: failed)
"Friend, we have talked about this, you are terrible at jokes."
"Come on! That one wasn't so bad."
"If you say so."
Our dear ex-Sentinel has never been good at talking, but can you blame the guy? He grew up in a deep hole underground, away from the world, where even there he was sort of an outcast, and only had a handful of people who care for him.
And when he finally gets out into the Wasteland, the first thing he encountered is a bunch of raiders, cannibals, and robots that wanted to kill him instead of having a conversation.
"Anyway, what's the status on the Nightkin?"
"We confirmed that the one carrying the Brahmin skull is the leader, they have established a base next to the Canadian frontier, in an old military base."
"Any settlements around?"
"Fortunately, no, but there is a traveling route near the base, some merchants and caravanners use it, if the Nightkin run out of food, they will most likely raid the caravans."
*sigh* "That's a problem."
The Nightkin are a problem, a big one, they possess the same physical strength of any super mutant (Meta humans), they possess military training, heavy weaponry, Stealth Boys, and most important of all, they are actually really intelligent.
From what he learned from the Brotherhood's database and the terminals logs of Vault 87, the reason why the FEV subjects from the Mariposa military base and other investigation centers in the West maintained their intelligence, is because the scientist used a different strain of the virus than the one used in the Capital.
Unlike the one used in Mariposa, all the strains used in the East coast (like in Vault 87), focused on making the body of the subject as strong and resilient as possible, these subjects continued to gain muscle and body mass as they age (eventually becoming Behemoths). But as they adapted to the virus, their mental state deteriorated (this is the reason why intelligent meta-humans like Fawkes are so rare in the East).
"Have you guys come up with any ideas?"
"Some, but we did not settle in any; the first idea was to blow them up with the orbital cannon."
"Let me guess, Clover?"
"Clover."
*sigh* "Keep her away from the weapons."
"Gladly, the other idea is to get them to leave the base, but ..."
"But that will only cause more troubles."
If the Nightkins leave the base, then the merchants and caravanners would be safe, but where will the Nightkin go? They'll roam the land again, bringing havoc and chaos to any poor soul they encounter. So there are only two options, either kill the Nightkin or keep them in the base.
The later would be a bit tricky since they are a secluded community, who doesn't trust outsiders, maybe Fawkes could make the first contact, and try to persuade them into buying from the merchants?
No, that's stupid, why would they buy food when they can easily kill the vendors and take their stuff? They would only be willing to trade with … someone like them.
"Fawkes, where was the last time we saw Grahm?"
"In Hodgenville, I recall he wanted to travel to the Midwest Commonwealth."
While exploring the so-called home of President Eden, they stumble across an old Mutant named Grahm, an old Merchant who has traveled the land since the destruction of the old world, he's a good person, they helped him get back to his home at West Virginia, so he owes them a favor.
"How much food do we have?"
"Enough for three months, why?"
After some moments of intense thought, the Wanderer finally came with a solution.
"Okay, here's the plan; you'll take Clover and Butch and search for Grahm, bring him to the base, then he and you will contact the Nightkin and gain their trust, after that you'll provide them with enough food and supplies to survive the winter, and Grahm will establish a tradeline with them."
"That way, they will get supplies without raiding, and will stay put in one place."
"Yes, however, it's just a temporary solution, they need mental help, if we can't help them with that, then it will be better to just ..."
"Kill them?"
"... Yes."
The Vault boy knows how difficult those words were for Fawkes. He didn't have any problems with killing his kin, he was a mutant for them, an intelligent freak (the day we met Leo, was probably one of the happiest days of his life), but killing others like him, killing others intelligent freaks? Well, that was another story.
"Friend, I- I want an opportunity, maybe I can help them, I know that their mental state will not be easy to treat, but-."
"Of course, I understand, there's a list of trusted Doctors in my room, near my desk, the ones with psychology training are highlighted in blue, they can help."
"... Thanks, friend."
"Don't mention it, I better get going, the Doctor may come in any minute now."
"Be careful."
*Bark*
"You too, One Oh One out."
And with a push of a button, the call ended, and 101 proceeded to get back into the bar. He wanted the conversation to last a while longer, this whole journey has been stressing him a lot and talking with his crew always makes him feel better, they are his friends after all.
They are the ones who decided to follow him, no matter where he went, they left their homes at DC to be with him, when they didn't have to. He remembers the day he left the Capital, when he had to leave yet another home behind, at least this time he didn't have to do it alone, and this time it was by his own choice.
The mind of the wonderer wonders (no pun intended) to his memories from the Capital, the Brotherhood, Vault 101, his home. One year after the battle at Adams Air Force Base, Lyons died in his sleep, at first no one wanted to believe it, that after all the things he had been through, that the great Elder Owyn Lyons would pass away from old age.
Heh, I guess you really beat us on that one, didn't you, Lyons?
No true soldier will ever think he'll die from old age, he doesn't, Cross doesn't, and of course, Lyons didn't. The Wanderer is happy for the Elder, he fought the good fight, he fought for the Brotherhood, for the Wasteland, he deserved to die in peace, saw his daughter grow up into a valorous woman, strong, intelligent, without fear of anything.
101 Remembers how that strong and courageous woman cried for her father, begging him to weak up, how he and Vargas had to take her outside the room and comfort her.
The Wanderer is happy for the Elder because he didn't saw Sarah crying, he is happy that Lyons didn't saw how the Brotherhood disgrace him, and more importantly, he is happy that a father didn't saw the death of his daughter.
Sarah took the mantle of Elder after the passing of her father and was doing pretty well, however she died in battle not long after. The Vault dweller, wasn't there when it happened, he had been abducted by the Zetans, she was his Elder, and he should have been there.
After the Lyons were gone, the Brotherhood crumble, there was one inefficient leader after another. Some wanted to honor Lyons' ideals and continue helping the people of the Wasteland, giving them food, weapons, armor, and shelter, and others wanted to stop being a charity, stop wasting men and resources on hapless Wastelanders, and start following the old ways of retrieving technology.
He wasn't the same ignorant fool that came out from a hole in the ground anymore, he knew very well that there's more than just right and wrong, and both sides had good points, but none of them wanted to admit it. After all; "everyone is wise in their own eyes".
The original ideals of the Brotherhood didn't had nothing to do with good or bad, no, it was about retrieving technology so that the human hubris wouldn't cause another apocalypse, it was about saving humankind from its worst enemy; itself (although, these ideals made them into a narcissism and techno-religious group).
Helping the people of the Wasteland is a noble and good deed, they are fighting the good fight, but if only one part of the population is fighting that fight, then the other part is just lying around, waiting for their problems to go away.
You can't depend on someone else for your own survival.
And that's exactly, what the people of the Capital were doing, they depended too much on the Brotherhood, for protection, food, water, and even shelter, they became complacent.
But what would happen if the BoS failed to protect them, or if the BoS decided to leave the Capital, what would they do then?
That's the reason our Wanderer helped create the Capital Wasteland Provisional Government (the CWPG). He invited representatives from each major settlement (and even some small settlements) to a meeting in Megaton in the hope of forming this coalition.
It took a whole year to finally make this idea a reality, it was growing slowly but steady, and in a couple of years they wouldn't need the Brotherhood or someone like the Lone Wanderer to protect them.
Last I heard, they finally have a steady road line of supplies, and even their own little military group, they call themselves; the Good Fighters, not bad Three Dog.
In the end, they decided that it was better for both the Brotherhood and the Capital if they stopped helping people and start being what they once were. They would still give purified water to anybody who requested it, but only that.
But of course, the rift between the conservatives and the liberals continued to exist, and it didn't help that they disgrace Owyn in such a way as they did. They put him as an example of what they should never become, they call him weak, pathetic, the foolish Elder (a title that, unfortunately, have stayed until this day).
Weak, huh?
The Elder who safely navigated them across the United States, the Elder who defeated the Enclave, the scourge of Pittsburgh, the annihilator of Super Mutants, the Elder who saved countless lives, who decided that saving a life was more important than to fallow a codex, they dared to call such an Elder, such a man, such a soldier, a weakling? Owyn had his problems, yes, but he wasn't weak.
Unlike him, not everybody kept their emotions and opinions in check, like Kodiak, who one day, beat the crap out of a Scribe, who was dumb enough to insult Lyons in the Paladin's face.
After that little incident (and some others), the BoS knew that they needed to put some order, so they called an assembly, in there, 101 and a couple others decided to leave the Brotherhood, not because they were forced or threatened, but because they didn't want the Brotherhood to break apart, they didn't want the organization to whom they gave their sweat, tears, and blood, to fall.
The Vault Dweller, was one of the most important representatives of Lyons' ideals, he needed to leave. They even erased his name from the archives, and give all of his accomplishments to either Sarah or Lyons Pride.
*Sigh*
At least, this time, it was my choice.
"20."
"21."
"Fuck!"
After some small talk with the bartender, our dear Courier started doing what's, in his opinion, the best exercise for relaxing (apart from drinking, obviously), and that's gambling, a shame his not doing so well right now.
"Hahaha, what can I tell you, the house always wins."
That's debatable.
"Seems like Lady luck isn't at your side today."
"My thoughts exactly."
Luck is such a bad girl, she makes you suffer so much, but you yearn for her every day. These two have a troubled relationship, sometimes, she's cuddling with him, and other times, she's stepping on him.
"Another round?"
"First, I'm going to need more of this." Said Six, while shaking his last empty bottle.
"Coming right up."
As the blond man leaves the scene to get more poison for his client, said client takes a deep breath and tries to relax a little.
Well, even Luck has left me today, come on girl! Throw me a bone or something!
This the only moment of peace he's going to have today, because when dear old Doctor shows up, he's going to have a lot of work to do. He doesn't even know what to expect from her, maybe she is a maniac Doctor, or a clever raider boss, or the worse of all, a businesswoman.
Because of that, he doesn't have a very clear idea of what to do, at the moment the best plan he has come up with is; to meet the doctor, discover her plans, probably kill her, and get back to the Mojave in one piece. Oh! And also, get something nice for Cass (that way she won't be so mad at him for blowing up one of her newly acquired caravans) (optional).
I also need a little present for Rexy.
Rex was really against the idea of his owner going alone to an unknown territory, just like most of his companions (although the Courier can't blame them, he tends to discover the weirdest shits every time he travels alone).
The little canine was really upset when he left, he planned on leaving him with the others at Big Mountain, but when he refused to leave his owner's side, he took him to Freeside. The King is the only other person in which Rex feels completely at ease, and after some barking (and biting), Rex stayed with the leader of the Kings.
It was the same story with ED-E, that little ball wouldn't stop chasing him around Big Mountain until Arcade shot it with a non-lethal version of the Sonic emitter they had laying around in the facility. Of course, Six didn't know that it was the non-lethal version and proceeded to yell a bunch of profanity at Arcade while holding ED-E in his loving arms.
A lot of people have criticized him for caring so much for a robot, but he doesn't care, ED-E was the first companion he had after losing everything, the one who's always been there for him. When he found the Eyebot in Primm, it was a mess, fried circuits, bent metal, and two bullet holes, it was broken beyond repair, just like he was. Six, ended up leaving ED-E with Veronica, it can be really helpful for her.
"Here you go." Said the employee as he puts more bottles on the table.
"You and me both know that I'm going to need more than that."
*chuckle* "Since you are an experienced drinker, maybe you should take a look at all the drinks we have to offer."
"Nah, I'm okay with this bad boy."
"Well, you should reconsider, we have drinks you wouldn't get in most places."
"Really? And why is that?"
"We have our own brand of alcohol, we make classics such as tequila and wine, as well as some little concoctions we came up with, and we sell them to any nearby settlements, almost every bar in the north of Texas sells our stuff, but of course, we keep the best of the best for ourselves."
"Ooh, okay, you have my interest, what do you have in stock?"
"Well, let me think; we have, Red Dead Wine, Radscorpion Tequila, Blue Moon Vodka, Whisky Rose ..."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, stop right there." Surely, he misheard that. "Whisky Rose?"
"Yes, Whisky Rose, one of our specialties, is the traditional Grain Whisky, spiced with our original formula and fermented with extract of Sacred Datura and Broc flower."
"Isn't Sacred Datura poisonous?"
"Only, if you take the whole thing, if you cut the Datura and correctly ferment its less poisonous parts with the Broc flower, it gives a sweet and sour taste to the Whisky, I have a bottle over here."
The blond man reaches out for the bottle and a shot glass from under the bar. He places the glass in front of his client and pours him the drink.
The Mojave resident takes the drink and analyses it. It has a pleasant smell, you can smell the scent of alcohol, but it doesn't eclipse the scent of the grains, and it has a pinkish coloring.
After a few moments he drinks the Whisky, confirming its sweet and sour taste, it isn't as strong as other alcohols the Courier has encounter in his journeys, but it does deliver the right amount of strength for a Whisky.
"Not bad."
Quest updated: Wild Rose; get a nice gift for Cass, so she won't kick your ass (optional), or get a gift that would piss her off, in the hope of getting a good laugh out of it (optional, not recommended).
He's using all his mental strength to contain his stupid urges and not buy a bottle. Six already has enough problems with Cass, he doesn't need more, and buying a drink named Whisky Rose (a nickname she hates, by the way) just for the laughs, is not worth it.
"Glad that someone likes it."
"Not a popular selection, eh?"
"Personally, I like it, but everybody here thinks that anything pink or something with less of 80% alcohol is a girly drink."
"Heh, they don't appreciate a good drink then."
"Agree, we haven't sold a bottle in months, the situation is soo bad that the owner wants to sell the rights of the beverage."
"Damn! That bad?"
"Yep."
"What's the name of the brand, anyway?"
"Same as the place's, Dante's." Said the employee as he gives the bottle of Whisky.
Six takes it and looks at it, it's a crystal clear bottle, that let us see the pink liquid inside, the label in the front reads: Dante's Whisky Rose.
"Dante's, huh? Is that the name of the owner, or is it a literary reference?"
"I like to think that I'm a well-educated person."
A big, large man in the corner of the bar responded, as he came closer to the duo. The guy is a massive man, with a height of almost seven feet tall and very muscular (Could give a decent fight at the Thorn), dark skin, no hair, but a prominent imposing bear.
He's wearing a scuffed white shirt that laces across the chest, with the sleeves rolled up, some grey jeans, gloves, and black boots, the guy has been looking at him for a while now, and it was starting to be a little creepy.
"You finally talked!" Exclaimed the customer a little bit too loud while raising his arms. "The owner, I presume, I was wondering when would you introduce yourself, instead of just looking menacing in the corner."
"Heh, well, it's part of the charm, the name's Robert, a pleasure to make your acquaintance, mister..."
The stranger stares at Robert both incredulously and amusingly for a moment, before looking back at the bartender.
"I swear to god that if your name is Benny, I'm going to lose it."
The two men remain silent after the third's statement, the bartender being really curious about what would happen if he says yes.
"I ... I want to say it is, just to see what happens." Starts the bartender. "But since I just cleaned the bar, I'm going to say no."
"Smart man."
Robert, not sure how to respond to that, decided to ignore the comment.
"Alright, hmm, what brings you to our lovely town? Mister…"
The newcomer thinks for a moment before answering with:
"Julius."
"Really?"
"Yeah, Yeah, I get it all the time, my parents thought that if I had a Legionary's name, they would be kinder to me."
"You come from Legion land?"
"Not from, but near Legion land, near the outskirts of their territory, so I have had some run-ins with them."
"Yeah, that's the same story with us, a good thing they stopped after they lost to the NCR at Nevada."
Huh, so people here do know about the NCR and Nevada.
Well, the battle for Hoover Dam occurred two years ago, it's reasonable that the news of how the all-powerful Legion lost the war and its leader, reached the surrounding areas, especially since the Romans wannabe have been doing everything in their power to maintain order in their land and have stopped targeting other settlements or tribes.
The death of Caesar and the fall of Lanius brought great misery to Arizona, as the losers ran with their tail between their legs back to their home, uncertainty filled the hearts and minds of the Legionaries.
Once they reached their land, the Legion didn't know what to do, some of them perform a sick and disturbing form of seppuku (because the normal one wasn't brutal enough), others tried to maintain the order, but how could they do that?
Caesar was the only one who could lead the Legion, Lanius tried to take his place and failed, after all, as one great wise man once said; the Legion dies with Caesar. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but they'll fall, it just a matter of time.
It is taking a lot more time than I thought it would, though.
"I'm curious, I heard this place had so much importance because of its closeness to Legion lands, right?"
"In part, yes." Responded Robert.
"So, did you guys lost some of that cloud once the Legion stopped guarding their roads as they used to?"
That was one of the few good things they had going on for them, the reason why the Legion had so good economy, every merchant preferred to make business in Arizona because of how secure the road was (well, every male merchant at least).
But like everything else with the Legion these days, it has entered into a decline, they don't have enough men to protect their homeland anymore, much less the roads.
"Not at all, actually, quite the opposite."
Huh?
"Care to elaborate?"
"Well, we did have our problems at first, but all of that changed once we started supplying the Legion with food and other goods."
"Since when the Legion deals with profligates?"
"Since they have no other choice, either they deal with us, or they starve."
"How can getting some food from one settlement would save a whole nation from starvation?"
"Heh, as much as I'll like to take all the credit, is not only us, a lot of other towns are selling their crops to the Legion as well, I think Texas has never been this prosper." Admitted happily.
*chuckle* "The misery of one is the bliss of another."
As he said that, the Courier takes another bottle and takes a long sip out of it, he accidentally tips off his hat, revealing his messy dark hair and a peculiar bandage in his forehead.
Agh! Stupid thing!
He quickly fixes his hat on top of his head again, trying to hide the bandage. He has that thing on for two reasons; the first one is his scar.
That little gift Benny gave him has been a thorn in his ass for several reasons (not counting the fact that there were two bullets in his FRONTAL LOBE), the scar makes it easier to identify his identity, and since a lot of people wants him dead, that's not a good thing. That's why he tends to use hats, bandanas, masks, or helmets to cover his face.
The second reason for the bandage is that all the Gunners had a tattoo on their foreheads, and since he is going to pass as one of them, he needs to cover the fact that there is no tattoo on his forehead.
"And what about you?" Asked Robert. "What brings you here?"
"Nothing special, I was hitting the road one day and heard about of this place, wanted to see if you have something good to sell."
"Oh, so you're a Merchant."
"Sometimes, other times, I'm a Mercenary, others a Guard, a Courier once or twice, depends on who's paying."
"And what are you right now?"
"Right now? Well..."
After a few seconds of silence, and the Courier debating with himself, he lets out a smirk and answers:
"Right now, I'm the guy who wants to buy the rights of Dante's Whisky Rose."
(Quest update: you have choose poorly.)
Come on, just one more hour left.
Today has been an exhausting day for Elijah, and if someone else comes along to piss him off, he is going to shot that guy.
During the first hour of his shift, he investigated the disappearing of some merchants that came to the town a couple of days ago. They arrived in town, trying to establish some new trade lines, or at least that's what I heard, but found some opposition in the city council, and haven't been seen in two days. So, he immediately interrogated those two rats of Steven and Carl.
Robert's dogs were seen prowling the Inn where the merchants were staying before they disappeared, but when he got to talk to them, they weren't in their homes.
Both were heavily wounded and were patched up in the clinic, according to the doctor they had an accident while cleaning and maintaining their weapons (you know, because all weapon malfunctioning tends to leave you with about ten bullets wound and stab wounds).
Unfortunately, the two fuckers, as always, didn't talk, and had to leave them alone (Mayor's orders). Then, some idiot misplaced the merchants' sales permits and all the guards had to search for the damn papers for hours, later in the afternoon, a bunch of drunkards started a fight in the middle of the street, where he may or may not have used some police brutality to break them apart.
And finally, Lanius had to lock up a kid, who vandalize Dante's sign (after letting the guy finished, of course). That kid giving a piece of his mind to Robert and the chat he had with the Courier he encountered were the only moments of peace he had all day.
"Hey mate, why the long face? Our shift is nearly over."
And that peace ran away the moment he got assigned to guard the south entrance with this pain in the ass.
"Well, for starters, I'm trapped with you of all people for the next hour."
"Yeah, yeah, love you too, mate."
"Fuck off, Michel."
Michel, one of the most annoying persons he has the misfortune to know, is a slender man around his twenties, red hair, freckles, and that annoying little grin in his stupid ass face.
"Come on, man, light the mood, would ya, I know that we had a rough day and that you hate me…"
"Your words, not mine"
"But I was the one who found those sales permits for you."
"I'm pretty sure you were the one who lost them in the first place."
"Hey! I'm an asshole, not an idiot."
"Again, your words."
"My point is that you don't have to be such a sour face to the people around you, especially if said people helped you."
"What do you want? A kiss on the cheek or something?"
"Heh, as much as I'll like that, a thank you would enough."
"For what?"
"Come on, mate! I helped you, is it that difficult to give me some credit?"
Can you shut up for five seconds?! agh! ... I know he's right.
*sigh* "Okey, you're right, you did helped me ... thank you."
"See? It wasn't that hard."
"Keep talking, and there's going to be a bullet up your ass."
"Alright, alright, I'll shut up."
And he did, for about six seconds at least.
"Ever wonder why are we here?"
"Oh, for Atom's glow! We are not having this conversation AGAIN."
"It's just a question."
"What am I, a priest?!"
"Just hear me out, it's one of life's great mysteries, why are we here? I mean, are we the product of some cosmic coincidence, or is there really a God watching everything? And-."
"Be quiet."
"I get it, I'm annoying, but-."
"I mean it, someone is coming."
"Huh?"
As both guards turn to face the road, a caravan approaches the city. Four armed men protect the wagon pulled by two Brahmin, while two other hooded figures drive the wooden vehicle.
"Are we waiting for any resupplies?" Asked Elijah.
"Not today, and not this late." The redhead responded while pulling out a schedule from his person and glancing at it. "Maybe they are lost."
As the caravan approaches them, the guards can get a better view of the hooded figures. One appeared to be just another mercenary, big guy with tanned skin, messy brown hair, and a big iron on his hip. The other one, in contrast, is tiny and slim (really slim), with its head down and the hood it's wearing, it's difficult to see more.
"Hold!" Elijah told them as they reach the gate. "Welcome to the Free City of Rojo, state your business."
"We are here to make a delivery." The hooded man on the wagon responded.
"What kind of delivery?"
"Supplies"
"We weren't expecting one today."
"It's a special one."
Yeah, this doesn't sound fishy at all.
"I need to see some papers."
"Of course."
The guy gets down the caravan and gives Elijah some sales permits. Elijah gives it a closer look, according to this, they are a group of merchants, they sell a variety of goods, from food to weapons, have a license to sell in the city for a year, and were contracted by ... Robert.
"An unregistered delivery for Robert."
Just what I needed.
"Is there a problem?"
"Any and all big deliveries must be on our list to ensure its arrival," Michel responded. "Robert, should have notified the council about this."
"Well, maybe he forgot, anyway, I have the permits, I can pass."
The older guard gives the papers another quick read.
"I'm afraid we need to inspect the wagon."
"What for?"
"Just a quick check, mate, nothing to worry about."
As the younger guard approaches the caravan, one of the armed man blocks his path.
"Please step aside."
Michel demand, but the mercenary just stood there in silence, without breaking eye contact.
"Tell your man to move." Now this time, Elijah Demand it.
"Listen, it's been a long day, we want to be done with this as much as you do, just let us pass."
"I said, tell your man, to move."
After that last sentence, silence came over the land, the only noise you could hear was the wind hitting the walls of buildings, and the coyotes howling in the distance. All of the people involved glare at each other, waiting for someone to make a move, luckily, the other hooded figure intervened.
"There is no need for this waste of time."
The voice was clearly feminine, muffled, dull, and a bit annoyed.
"Excuse me, ma'am?"
"Let them check the wagon."
"But-."
The figure, now clearly a woman, raises her head and stares daggers at the man with her two distinctive eyes, one black as night, and the other one silver as ... well, silver.
"I said, let them."
"... Yes, ma'am, sorry, ma'am."
And with that, they step aside, letting Michel do his job. He gets to the back of the wagon, climbs inside, and starts opening crates and boxes to see its contents.
"What do we have?!"
"Beer, beer, beer, meat, meat, beer, meat, some metal junk, and, Oh! More beer!." Shouted back to Elijah while getting down the wagon. "Everything appears to be in order."
"Sorry for the trouble, gentlemen." Said the woman to the guards, who could see her more clearly now that she was close. The lady is using some white garments under a black cape with a hood made out of wool, and a red scarf covering her mouth.
"Don't worry, miss, enjoy your stay."
The hooded man, takes his papers, climbs the caravan, takes the reins, and continues their way inside the town.
"That was anticlimactic." Whispered Michel.
"Robert makes his own beer, why would he need more?"
"Who cares, we are tired, and they don't pay us enough for this."
"But-."
"I'll shut up and won't even make eye contact with you tomorrow if you agree with me on this one."
"Alright."
"You want to buy my drink?"
"Yes." Responded the stranger to Robert.
"Don't get me wrong, I'll gladly sell Rosy here to anybody who asks, but, why do you want it?"
Rosy has never performed very well in the market, and after some time evaluating his competitors, he decided to sell the poor little thing and direct his attention to her bigger, more popular brothers, unfortunately, none of his associated partners wanted her, she is like the ungracious daughter of a rich family, who nobody wants to wed. So, why does this guy, who's not a businessman like himself, but a mercenary, wants her?
"Why not? The girl has potential, you just need to find the right customers, and I know a caravanner who would most DEFINITELY take her in."
You sure about that, pal?
From a business point of view, this is a terrible investment from the visitor's part, but on the other hand, Rose would be someone else problem now, however, there is still one problem.
"As much as I want to sell her off, she's not a cheap lady, you know?"
"Name your price."
"50000 bottle caps."
*Whistle* "You weren't kidding, hmm, I'll give you 20000."
"This is not debatable."
"It isn't? Blondie over here told me how you haven't sold a bottle in months, and you were so desperate to sell the damsel that you even proposed her to the first stranger who came through the door." The newcomer replied, and the bartender looked visibly uncomfortable in his spot.
Smartass
"40000."
"25000"
"30000, take it or leave it."
"I'll take it." As the mercenary said this, he pulled a bag of bottle caps from his person, and put it in front of Robert.
Robert takes the bag and starts counting the wrapped rolls of bottle caps.
"You're missing 10000."
The man searches his bag and brings out, I shit you not, a fucking gold bar. Robert just stares at the guy, waiting for an explanation that never came, so he gave up.
"… Okay, I'm too tired to ask, I'll bring the papers."
But, before he could do that, one of his girls approach him.
"Hey, Boss! A bunch of guys are waiting for you in the back, say they have a delivery for you, and told me to give you this."
The girl (he didn't bother to remember her name) gave him a black card with golden letters that read; VIP.
Finally.
"Blondie, you know where the papers are, go get'em and conclude this transaction."
"Yes, Boss." The bartender responded as he leaves.
"Sorry for this interruption, but I need to see this delivery."
"Meh, its fine." The stranger responded while raising his shoulders. "Hey, Blondie! While you're at it, bring me more bottles!"
Robert departs from the conversation and heads out for the back of the building, goes through the door that connects the bar with the kitchens, and walks casually through the room until reaching another door that directs him to the supply room. He goes through it, and soon after, he encounters one of his employees, sitting on a box, smoking, and not doing her work.
"Robert-." *cough, cough* "What ar-" *cough* "What are you doing here?"
"Sharyl, get your act together, and get back to work."
"Chill, I was just relaxing for a bit, needed to cut some slack after finishing the room you asked for."
"Is everything ready?"
"Yep, cleaned the shit out of that room."
"Good, Oh! And by the way, did you get something from our dear friend?"
"Nothing." She said while getting up, tossing her cigarette to the floor, stepping on it, and heading out the room. "I'm telling you, you're wasting your time, the guy is the cleanest person in this place, you won't get dirt on him."
We'll see about that.
He continues his path, until reaching the final door of the building, this door connects to a back alley, where his customer is waiting. The big man opens the door, revealing a hooded figure.
"Miss Stanley, good to see you again."
"Doctor Stanley."
"My bad, sorry about that, please come in."
The doctor comes into the building, and once the door closed behind them, the petite woman takes off her hood and scarf, letting her red hair be free.
One major notable feature of the lady is how skinny she is, almost as she didn't eat at all, and then we have that breathing mask she's always wearing, covering her mouth and nose, this and her unusual eyes, gives her a creepy aura.
"I hope the men I got you were of service."
"They were sufficient, did you prepared the room with my specifications?"
"Just finished the final touches."
"Good, I'll be heading there then, thank you, Robert, for your services."
"Any time."
"Ah, almost forgot, I'm waiting for some associates, they should have arrived in town by now."
"They could, how can I identify them?"
"Search for soldiers who try to cover their past, and mercenaries armed to the teeth."
Well, that explains a lot.
"I think I know who you're waiting for."
"Then tell them; that the Doctor is here and don't make me wait."
"I'll send them to you imminently."
In Fallout 4, there are no records of the Lone Wanderer in the Brotherhood terminals, they talked about Lyons and Sarah in the game, but not about our poor vault dweller, so in order to be as lore-friendly as possible, in my history, 101 decided to leave the BoS.
Also, I know that Fallout 76 sucks, but I included Grahm to show how both 101 and 6 have been traveling to other places and have been doing other stuff after the story of their games finished.
Okay, it was difficult for me to make this chapter because I didn't want to give more protagonism to either 101 or 6.
I want both of them to have the same amount of prominence, and I struggled a lot to achieve this, my solution was to see the events play out from the perspective of a third, and fourth party (in this case Robert and Elijah).
A big thanks to all of you who read my story, Guest and 2Rule179, thanks for leaving a review, I'm trying to make more proofreading to my chapters before posting, I hope to meet the standards and if I make a mistake, please tell me.
Have a good one.