When the Courier had traveled with Goblin Slayer and his partner, it had been a quiet trip. The man wasn't inclined to talk, and the Courier didn't see the need to press for conversation, especially with how tired the girl seemed. Besides, the Mojave native had been busier pondering over her many questions about this world, not to mention what she had heard about and seen since the time of her arrival.

The same could not be said of the party she now traveled with.

By no means was it a bad thing, of course, but they were certainly far livelier. Warrior-Priest time and again tried and failed to strike up some conversation with Dark Elf Thief, who seemed equally focused on keeping quiet and avoiding her socialization in favor of going over the party's equipment and supplies, from sharpening weapons to re-checking their potion vials. Still, the fact he hadn't asked her to stop at least was a good indicator that he was not completely bothered by her speaking.

In comparison to them, however, Acolyte and Lizardman Fighter kept themselves quieter, only sometimes commenting on something the cart they were riding passed by, or running commentary on some of Warrior-Priest's stories… but most of all, the young girl and the large lizardman continuously made several less-than-subtle romantic passes at one another. Nothing too overt, of course, but it was hard to miss the many shows of affection, or the gazes they threw at each other, or even the way their hands intertwined with one another more than once.

At least they kept it civil enough, unlike some of the people back in New Vegas. Though if the Courier were to be fair, the two were still sober.

But overall? It had been a very lively and more exciting trip. Even their cart driver had been an amiable "host" so far, sometimes even adding in comments of his own to some of Warrior-Priest's many subjects or tales, and every time he had been unfailingly polite.

And yet still, one glaring point remained present: none of said conversations had been directed to the Courier so far.

Once again, they hadn't been impolite with it. There were no sideways nervous glances, nor awkward questions or whispered words behind her back, but it was quite obvious that the party was still actively holding themselves back in talking about or to the Courier. Perhaps it was out of politeness, so as to not overwhelm her with questions, or just as likely they could be intimidated by what little reputation she had accrued already from her entry exam, but in the end, the "why" mattered little. All that mattered was that such a thing did not impair their cohesion as a team once the fighting truly began.

Besides, the Courier hadn't made too many efforts to start up a conversation, being focused instead of reading up on whatever intel the Guild had managed to offer instead, and while it hadn't been much, it was certainly useful at least:

Three weeks prior, travelers had begun spotting humanoid shapes traversing the forest, followed by a strange fog overtaking a local abandoned graveyard, that coincidentally was also located in that same forest. Due to the proximity to a nearby village responsible for producing food to Frontier Town, a few of the braver inhabitants went off to try and discover the answers to these events.

They had returned a day later, with one villager missing, speaking of undead prowling the woods. After that, the sighting of skeletons only seemed to increase in number, prompting the village to call for the help of the Adventurer's Guild. And while the Guild could not offer concrete answers for the cause of the undead, they had posited some possibilities, such as a necromancer, a cursed object, or even a cult of the forces of Chaos. And while she had never met any of those things, she had read more than a few Grognak the Barbarian comics, so at least she wasn't completely ignorant of what exactly they could be.

A jolt caused by the cart driving over what most likely was a stray rock made the contents of the cart, that being the party and their supplies, jump up just slightly, though evidently enough to imbalance Warrior-Priest and send her sprawling atop Dark Elf Thief, who bit out a curse as he fumbled to keep the potions from rolling all over the place, while Acolyte and Lizardman Fighter drew each other together into an embrace that thankfully kept them upright. But in the Courier's case, the woman barely moved with the jolt, choosing instead to place a hand over the bag of cheese next to her for support.

Hsu did always say she could probably Walk on Water with an Agility like hers.

"Sorry about that!" called out the driver apologetically. "Road's getting a bit rough out here… guess it's really been a while since anyone went to this place."

"Don't worry about," replied the Courier as she stuffed the Guild's intel back inside her coat. "No one's hurt."

"Speak for yourself…"

Dark Elf's muttered reply was just loud enough to carry to everyone's ears, but all of a sudden all but the Courier stilled completely, before the thief's companions slowly turned to face him…

Followed by Warrior-Priest breaking out in a bout of victorious laughter, a far cry from the more reserved chuckling and giggling of Lizardman and Acolyte, respectively. "Hahaha! Eat that, I won! Now pay up!" cried out the warrior, thrusting an open hand forward towards Dark Elf Thief. Finally, after another long moment of silence, the thief let out a weary, tired sigh, then pulled a small bag of coins from his tunic and threw it into the waiting hand. "Heh, easiest money of my life."

Curiosity building, the Courier turned to Acolyte, and lightly motioned to the sulking thief and proud warrior. "What kind of bet did you have going?"

"Well, we all were quite curious about you, Courier, but we did not wish to be impolite," explained the healer, her smile still as innocent as ever. "So, instead of swamping you with questions, we decided to bet who would cave in first and talk to you."

"Of course, the rules were lax enough that questions were not the only thing on the table, so we all held back so as to not lose," added the lizardman, motioning to the still-sulking dark elf. "Apologies if things became uncomfortable, but we were all quite competitive in this."

So that had been the reason, thought the Courier as she crossed her arms and lowered her head in thought. Without her helmet, the party could see the pensive expression in full, and how thankfully placid and unbothered the woman seemed. Finally, the Courier raised her head to gaze at the adventurers, and nodded. "I understand, and thank you for your honesty. But if you are so curious of my history, all you gotta do is ask," said the Mojave native with just as much calm as usual. "I wouldn't mind telling you more of where I've come from… provided none of you mind my own questions, either."

"Oh? Wanna hear some of our stories, then?" asked Warrior-Priest with a grin as she tossed her newly earned reward off to the side. "I guess it's fair, but probably it won't be as good as yours!"

"All stories hold merit to them, Warrior. It all depends on the worth we assign to them."

"Spoken as a true philosopher, Courier," said Lizardman Fighter with a nod of his head. "Shall we ask our questions now, then?"

Skrnch…

Before the woman could reply, however, the cart once more jolted, only this time it was far gentler, and rather than continue, it stopped completely. Moments later, the driver pulled the cloth separating him from the party, a disappointed look on his face.

The sight of the many tree roots blocking the path forward made clear the reason for his consternation.

"Sorry, folks, but I can't take you any further than this," he said with a defeated tone, motioning to the mass of roots blocking the path. "Guess the folks didn't know about the road being blocked. I can wait for you here, if you'd like."

"If the undead are prowling the woods, they're likely to find you. You'd just put yourself in danger," replied Dark Elf Thief, the adventurer already regathering all their belongings back into the satchels and pouches he had procured for the party. "Go back to the village, then come back in three days. If you don't meet us midway through or we are not waiting here, go back to the village and wait for us there."

"And if we don't come back in five days, go back and warn the Guild," added Lizardman Fighter, the beastkin running a claw over his fang sword before returning it to its sheath on his hip. "Do not enter the forest, understood?"

"Y… Yes, I understand…"

"Oh, do not mistake their sourness for defeatism, sir driver," said Acolyte, her staff held gently as she took Lizardman's offered hand and rose to her feet. "We know the dangers we may face, and simply wish you to be spared of them. Do not worry, we shall not fail in our quest, not when innocents are in danger."

The young healer's statement was met with a round of nods from her companions, but no reaction was as boastful as Warrior-Priest's, who swung her battle-axe to rest against her shoulder, and pressed a closed fist against her chest. "You bet! By my vows to the Valkyrie, I'm not letting any undead get past this forest!"

With that declaration, the four dismounted from the cart, each carrying their assigned share of the supplies, leaving the Courier as last to give the driver a determined look, before calmly saluting him with a Ranger's greeting. "Safe travels to you, driver, and may fortune guide you to safety."

And with that, the Courier left the cart as well, the packs of food hanging against her back as she paced after the four adventurers already ahead and quickly slipped her helmet back onto her head, while behind her the wheels of the cart and the hooves of the horses marked the departure of their transport.

-O-

As soon as they entered the forest, the five could feel a shift in their surroundings. Before, things had felt mostly normal, even with the admittedly quieter sound of wild animals, and the fact they had been stuck inside the cart for most of the journey. But now… there was barely anything. Only a bird or two sung, the sound of critters passing by was non-existent, and even the air itself seemed to grow a tad heavier and quieter. If a comparison had to be made, it was the difference between a market during daytime, and when it was abandoned at night.

And indeed, just as the villagers had said, mist seemed to perpetually settle across everything, eerily still but thankfully still sparse enough that the way forward was visible.

Nevertheless, the party traveled with a hand over their weapons, and even the Courier found herself scanning their surroundings for any oncoming enemies.

If there's anything sneaking around, Courier, they're sneaking better than me. And that's impossible, because no one's better than me. Still, be careful.

Sparing an imperceptible nod of her head as a reply to the suit's words, the Courier let one hand rest atop the holster of A Light Shining in Darkness, the forty-five auto's familiar grip serving as a comfortable reminder of the firepower she was carrying on her person.

Granted, the Courier had not brought her entire arsenal with her. After all, hoisting that much weight in firearms and melee weapons would have made her movements cumbersome at best, regardless of the ease in the burden granted by the Big MT's Trench Coat of Infinite Capacity!'s limitless pockets. Plus, not only would she have to carry her equipment's weight, but there was also the matter of her share of the load of supplies, which would be a further hamper. And though she had quite a Strong Back, was used to having a Burden to Bear, and had a Reinforced Spine thanks to the Think Tank's meddling madness, the Courier still had her limits. After all, she was only human.

… Mostly.

Faint memories of trudging out of the Sierra Madre with enough gold to start a country flitted through the Courier's mind, only to vanish just as quickly once she refocused on matters at hand, ergo, reviewing her arsenal:

A Light Shining in Darkness, holstered on the right side of her hip.

Shishkebab sheathed on her back, left shoulder to right hip.

Pump-action shotgun holstered on her back, right shoulder to left hip.

Blood-Nap, sheathed on her breast plate.

Plasma Defender mk. II, holstered on the left side of her hip.

It was all the weapons she could physically hold on to her body outside of the coat's pocket space, that held within itself her recharger rifle, All-American, grenade launcher, and assorted explosives.

She would also have considered the ammunition and assorted supplies she also had brought along, but for some reason the weight of that never had come into play, in all the years she owned the Big MT's Coat, but after Mobius's advice of "don't think about it and it won't stop working", she had decided to not dwell on the hyper-science the floating brains had conjured that removed the burden of carrying tens of thousands of bullets, rockets, grenades and other things, nor how they always perfectly materialized as organized clips and magazines.

The less effort she put into understanding that, the more her sanity would last.

"What a truly dreary place…" rumbled Lizardman Fighter, the demihuman warrior keeping a keen watch on the underbrush that surrounded them all, his slitted eyes flitting to every twitching branch or foliage they encountered. "Acolyte, Warrior-Priest, can you tell us anything?"

"Dark magic is certainly present nearby…" spoke the healer with a far more guarded tone of voice, her grip on her mace a tad tighter than necessary as a crude form of reassurance. "I can't tell where it is originating from, however… the forest itself seems tainted…"

"That's because it is," added the axe-wielder, her stance far more relaxed but senses still noticeably sharp. "Whatever magic's poisoning this place runs deep on the trees and soil, it's why there's so little life here: they're all terrified of whatever's causing all this." As if to punctuate her statement, a small rabbit jumped out of the foliage, only to immediately panic at the sight of the party and hop back into the greenery with nary a sound. "Case in point…"

"Could our enemy use this magic to know we're coming?" asked the Courier, thoughts of tripwires and sensors coming to the forefront of her mind as she side-stepped an exposed tree root.

"Nah, detecting magic needs to be properly set up, and this far out with such a broad area, only a REALLY powerful warlock could maintain it without exhausting themselves. And trust me, if one of those was around, we'd have been corpses a loooong time ago."

With a hum and a nod, the Courier turned her attention back to the path they were following. While she didn't know anything about magic (and wasn't that a curious thing to consider: Actual, tangible magic, instead of science), she trusted the word of the two adventurers who did seem well-versed enough to make judgements based on their knowledge. And so, on they went, the party of five bracing themselves for any likely ambushes their unknown enemy could have planned…

Yet only silence greeted them at every turn.

As they went on, however, the forest's growth became thicker and thicker, the density of trees growing so intense that only a few paths were available for the party to walk through. More than once, Warrior-Priest and Lizardman Fighter had been forced to cut away at the greenery with their weapons in a bid to keep up with Dark Elf Thief, who scouted ahead of the group with the ease expected of someone learned in the ways of stealth. For a moment, the Courier considered using the Shishkebab to cut a path forward as well, but the realization that flames in such a confined area would spell horrible death curbed that idea quickly enough.

It did not make the trek any more short or less painstaking, however, and as the hours began blending together, soon all but the Courier had grown quite tired and frustrated at the constant obstacles in their path. As for the Mojave native, she simply pushed forward and redoubled her attention to corners that could hide potential ambushers. The fact nothing had attacked yet only made her more attentive, especially once what little light they still had begun to disappear as the sun set over the horizon, the fog somehow growing thicker as night approached.

"Urgh, this is such a pain," grumbled Warrior-Priest aloud, her frustration only mounting higher as she was forced to awkwardly maneuver her axe around a few overgrown branches. When the weapon's blade caught on a particularly stubborn piece of wood, the woman let out an angry growl, and with a powerful tug that reduced the offending branches to splinters, freed the axe, though it did almost cause Warrior-Priest to trip over a particularly troublesome root. "Dammit! Argh, how long have we even been walking for?!"

Close to an hour, Courier. I've been counting!

"Around an hour or so," said the gunslinger, repeating the information Aura had given to her. With a flick of her wrist, the Courier brought up her Pip-Boy and turned the knob on it until the display shifted to the map section, and indeed, a map of the area she had traversed was available as a rough topographical read, an arrow marking her position and an objective marker further aways.

How the map had been compiled, she didn't know, but when it came to the Pip-Boy, no one truly had concrete answers.

"It should take us about an hour more to get to the cemetery."

"Hmm… I don't want to gamble our chances with encountering enemies before we've managed to rest," said Lizardman Fighter as he scratched his chin, his fang sword hanging limply beside his body as he peered at the forest ahead of them. "We should set up camp for the night, and wait until the morning to advance further."

Just then, Dark Elf Thief leapt from amidst the trees, his clothes surprisingly unruffled and untouched by the trees around them. "There's a few ruins further to the north," called out the young elf, a finger pointing in the specified direction. "They should give us enough cover during the night for us to properly rest."

The news was met with much relief from the tired adventurers, though for her part, the Courier merely regarded the news as curious. After all, if these woods contained ruins, then that meant that something else had been here before, no? What if the enemy had planned for this, and turned the seemingly safe shelter into a death trap? Or the place was already booby trapped, and all the party was headed to was an undignified demise? It wouldn't be the first time she had encountered such a ploy… or crafted it herself.

The Legion wasn't exactly respectful of enemy corpses. Not when one could hide landmines or other explosives underneath them. And their effectiveness was always proven true, time after time, especially when said tricks got turned against them.

Still, the thought held merit: even if the trip was aided by the cart for a long stretch, they hadn't gotten that much sleep due to the conditions of travel. A proper camp and a good meal would be more than enough to reenergize them all for the battles ahead, not to mention mentally prepare and unwind from the stress caused by the forest crossing.

It was with that in mind that the Courier turned to Dark Elf Thief, and gave a firm nod of approval. "I vote we rest at these ruins, then. If need be, I'll keep watch through the night."

"Is everyone else in favor of this?" asked Acolyte with a bit more cheer to her tone, which only seemed to rise when the last two members of the party gave firm nods of agreement. "Very well then! Dark Elf, could you lead us to these ruins, then?"

"Of course. Follow me."

And with that, Dark Elf Thief disappeared amidst the trees again, though thankfully slowly enough that the other adventurers could keep up with him. Just then, the Courier heard a small tune play from her Pip-Boy, and a glance down to its screen showed that her quest had received an update.

KILLER, THRILLER NIGHT

- Wipe out the skeletons rising from the graveyard, and find their source

- Set up camp and rest for the night

Simple enough objectives, but the devil was always in the details. Or in this case, the lack of them.

The last time she had gone in blind somewhere, the Mojave native had exited Vault 22 with the ability to photosynthesize. Suffice to say, it had made quite an impression on her.

Thankfully, the walk to the ruins was short, even if it wasn't easy. The tree clusters were just as thick here as on the path they had traveled, though the Courier noted absent-mindedly that the paths themselves had become surprisingly linear now, which at least meant their walking was much more simplified. Finally, after some ten more minutes of walking, they finally reached the aforementioned ruins… and the Courier realized the description was appropriate.

She had grown used to the buildings of the Mojave that the Great War hadn't been kind to: half-demolished, sometimes little more than a skeleton held together by miracle, other times reinforced by the jury-rigged construction techniques of the Mojave's natives. The ruin that would serve as their shelter was not such a case.

It seemed only a portion of it poked above ground, that being what seemed to be the top of a stone temple that had existed long ago in these woods, with the rest having sunk into the soil at some point. Vines and roots clambered over the stone walls, tearing their way into the ruin and piercing the stone in what probably was a search for soil and water. Whatever entrance had been present was very likely buried underground, but thankfully the exposed ruin still possessed one route into itself: a broken-down part of wall from the temple's spire, and to which a pile of rubble and trees seemed to lead to, like natural stairs.

Overall, it wasn't the worst shelter possible. It would shield them from the elements, provide cover and hide them from any possible enemies patrolling the woods, and serve as a possible rally point from which they could search the woods.

"We're supposed to camp in there?" asked Warrior-Priest with a thoroughly skeptic, the woman even raising an eyebrow as she took in the ruin's state. "Pretty sure that thing will collapse atop us the second we go in."

"We don't have much of a choice, do we?" was Acolyte's own question of a reply, the girl stopping to lean against a tree as she rubbed some sweat off her brow. "Either we rest in there, or outside… and in there at least the undead can't find us."

"I'll check it first."

Before anyone could voice a word in reply, the Courier strode ahead of the group and began climbing the vines leading to the hole above, her pump-action shotgun already in hands when she made it halfway up the "stairway". Once at the top, the Courier swept the entrance with the shotgun, her helmet's Red Scare vision mode already activated as she peered down into the darkened interior of the temple, allowing her to see with full-clarity the thankfully still-intact stairs leading down to the temple proper.

It could be a trap, Courier. Be careful.

"I know…"

Slowly, she stepped onto the stairs proper, and felt the stone grind under her boot while a few loose pebbles were kicked down to the ground far below. Once she made sure the ground would not give way under her, the Courier began the climb down to the temple's interior, gun ready and senses sharp for any possible ambushes.

…

CLACK-CLACK-CLACK

…

By chance or by sturdy construction, the stairs did not break nor crumble under the Courier's feet, allowing her descent to remain uneventful. At said bottom, nothing of note stood out, bar the archway leading further into the ruined temple, and there were no signs of any traps, so once more the woman stepped into the darkness awaiting inside.

…

CLACK-CLACK-CLACK

…

Thankfully, nothing appeared.

So it was that the Courier was left in peace to scour the only room still seemingly intact in the building: the main atrium.

Or at least, what had been a main atrium in the past. No furniture had been left, and more than enough rubble had been strewn about that it would not be an unfair guess to say a battle had probably taken place here. Thankfully, there were no signs of any dead or discarded weapons, though it wouldn't hurt to be extra careful in this case.

With practiced ease and silence, the Courier paced around the room, running both an analytical gaze and a careful hand over every inch of the room's surface, checking for signs of tampering that could indicate a trap of some kind: loose tiles, oddly placed stones, even a few knocks on the walls to search for hidden passages. But in the end, there was nothing to be found inside the old temple, other than dust and debris.

It wouldn't be the most comfortable of camping experiences, and a campfire would have to be carefully placed so they wouldn't all choke in smoke… but it would certainly be doable.

With her scouting finished, the Courier made her way back to the surface, and waved at the adventurers waiting down on the ground.

"It's safe. Let's set up camp."

-O-

The Courier was certainly… different.

Not in a bad way, true, but… different nonetheless.

Acolyte had seen plenty of adventurers in her admittedly short time at the Guild, and even before that the Earth Mother's temple saw no shortage of characters coming and going whenever they needed medical attention or a blessing for a longer trip. But in all those years, she had never met someone quite as peculiar as the woman who now sat across from her, tinkering with a strange torch she had called a "camping light", while at the same time fiddling with a small metal box she had called a "hot plate", and in which a metal slab had been set atop of to allow an assortment of meats and vegetables to be grilled.

All in all, it wasn't the strangest mealtime the party had ever had… but it was certainly the most peculiar.

"What kind of meat you got there?" asked Warrior-Priest, already hungrily eyeing the shockingly large slab of meat grilling on the metal slab, while the Courier slathered it with a liquid from a glass bottle, something called "Battle Brew".

"Deathclaw steaks," replied the Courier calmly, her eyes never wavering from the slabs of meat as she spoke, one hand poking it with a meat fork, while the other stirred the vegetables around the slab, a thick sauce covering the mix and somehow increasing the aroma of them tenfold. "Plenty of nutrients, a good source of energy… and it tastes very good."

"Hoh? I've never heard of a creature called a 'deathclaw'," said Lizardman Fighter as he scratched his chin in amusement. "Sounds like a mighty enemy indeed."

"It was. A deathclaw could easily kill an entire squad of soldiers, and brush off damage that would have killed any other beast four times over. All my hunts against one proved to be harsh tasks of endurance, patience, and rationing of ammunition… especially when several were involved."

"Then I wish I could have joined you in these hunts, Courier. They would have made for wonderful deeds to present to my ancestors."

"What about those?" asked Acolyte, a finger pointed at the collection of vegetables the Courier had been preparing. "Never seen any of those before…"

"Banana yucca, buffalo gourd seeds, daturana, prickly pear fruit… they're common plants in the Mojave, provided you know where to look, or if you can tend to a plantation of them."

All those plants, and she had never heard about any of them… And while it was true that Acolyte wasn't as well-versed with agriculture as others were, especially since her education had been tailored more towards medicinal herbs and other plants related to healing, she still had enough know-how when it came to edible plants, just in case she had to rough it out in the wilderness. And judging by the Courier's words, they were supposedly common enough that people had begun planting them at home.

… Which would mean they were most likely not local.

So from where…?

"Here. Eat."

Acolyte's thoughts were suddenly interrupted, however, when a bowl of hot, cooked vegetables was thrust onto her hands, a spoon carefully balanced inside the food. Almost bewilderedly, Acolyte took hold of the bowl, and watched as the Courier continued to divvy up everyone's portions, including two plates filled with heaping servings of meat to Lizardman Fighter and Warrior-Priest, who eyed their plates with unabashed glee. Finally, with all the food doled out, the Courier sat down against a large piece of debris, took off the mask attached to her helmet, and grabbed her own plate of food before calmly beginning to eat, an action that all the others soon copied, including Acolyte herself.

The second she had put the filled spoon inside her mouth, the young girl could have sworn she was staring at the face of the Earth Mother herself.

It was… it was delicious. The sauce, the vegetables, the combination of flavors dancing on her palate, everything was such a divine combination that appealed to some base part of her mind and soul, and yet words failed her in her effort to describe such a sensation. For a moment, Acolyte registered that not only did her body feel almost completely rejuvenated from all the trekking she had done up to here, but that there was additional strength on top of that flowing through her arms and legs, strength she was sure she did not possess before eating this meal. And evidently, it was not a feeling only she had: all other adventurers were eating with as much gusto as they could.

"T-Thif ish sho gud!" shouted Warrior-Priest, her cheeks almost bulging with how much food she was stuffing inside her mouth.

"Truly, a bounty worthy of remembrance!" cried out Lizardman Fighter in return, utter glee plastered on his snout as he greedily tore the slabs of deathclaw meat to shreds with his fangs. "Oh, and what invigorating energies these are, flowing through my body! It's as if this creature's life is now mine to use!"

And while he did not vocalize any of his feelings, the spark in Dark Elf's eyes as he clearly wrestled with his drive to devour the entire plate was proof enough that they all appreciated the meal offered. Still, even after such a declaration, the Courier did not speak, instead choosing to eat her own meal in silence, the woman barely even moving as she slowly but surely cleaned out her plate. Thankfully, rather than awkward, the silence that soon came upon the group was a more comfortable one, a clear lull to allow their dinner to go as peacefully as possible.

Still, the meal could not last forever. And lo and behold, the moment the plates and bowls were emptied, the adventurers were quick to set them down and turn their attention towards the Courier, who had just finished strapping her mask back into place. If she was bothered by the sudden influx of attention, she did not show it, instead choosing to walk back towards the group, sit down atop a piece of rock and level her eyes (or, more accurately, her mask's optics) at the four other members of her party. "I assume you all wish to ask your questions now, before we continue our quest, no?" she asked with a perfectly calm tone… or at least, what Acolyte hoped was a calm tone. Whatever enchantment the helmet had been blessed with, it made her words unnerving in a terrifying way, especially with the way those strange glass eyes glowed blood-red in the dark, even with the brightness of the camping light. "We have some time before we need sleep, I'm willing to answer them until then."

And just like that, they had their opening.

"In that case, I'm gonna start with the obvious one, Courier!" spoke up Warrior-Priest, her cheer borderline infectious as she stared at the Courier with naked curiosity. "Where are you from? I've never seen armor like yours, or weapons like that!"

"Or these tools you've utilized," added Dark Elf, as he gave a side-glance to the hot plate and lantern sitting off to the side. "Are they common where you live?"

"And what of its people?" finished Lizardman Fighter, a glint in his eye as he gave the Courier yet another appraising look. And while Acolyte herself did not speak up, she certainly shared their curiosity. After all, the Courier had been in Frontier Town for only a short time, and still she had built up a level of mystery to herself due to her… admittedly, everything.

And now here she was, offering to answer their questions.

It was a golden opportunity.

So, they waited, watching with bated breath as the Courier tilted her head to the side in thought, until finally the woman shoved her hand into her coat and withdrew from it a large, folded piece of paper, which she carefully unfolded and laid open on the ground. The other adventurers leaned forward and began pouring over the map, their eyes wandering as they took in the shockingly detailed image impressed upon it. There were lines and numbers they didn't really understand, and they didn't know what the (apparently) marked locations could be or were named, but it was still a fascinating thing to see… especially when they caught sight of the scale used on the map, and realized how large the area shown was.

"This is the land I hail from," the woman began saying as she sat herself on the other side of the map, mindful of any detritus getting onto the map itself. "Its name is the Mojave Desert, though many call it the Mojave Wasteland, as do I."

"A wasteland?" asked Warrior-Priest, her expression puzzled as she switched her gaze between the map and the Courier. "Really? Looks pretty full to me…"

"Many of these locations are ruins, though we keep track of them either as landmarks, or as possible salvage and looting locations."

"Ah, so just as we do with the dungeons adventurers have cleared previously…" muttered Lizardman as he scratched his chin, a smile visible in his snout as he appraised the map. "Was this land always such a wasteland, however?"

"Not per se. The Mojave has always been a desert, though civilization was more numerous two centuries prior." At the boggled stares of the adventurers, the Courier merely nodded once more. "It's also not changed much from its time of the past, at least in terms of geography, and there are enough green areas left to ease the minds of its inhabitants." She then began pointing at a few sporadic markers, all of them drawn as a small grouping of squares and rectangles. "Independent towns do exist, akin to Frontier Town, but the majority of the population inhabits the city of New Vegas, located here. Raiders tend to form conclaves as well, though the military is quick to put them down once they grow too violent. Bar these places, you'll find outposts manned by soldiers to keep watch over trade routes, respond to threats, or allow mercenaries to gain information of the surroundings."

"Fascinating…"

Their next hours went on with such a routine: one of them would ask a question about this "Mojave" place, and the Courier would answer in a concise, easy-to-understand way. They learned about some of the many, many places in the wasteland, from the towns and settlements that seemed to thrive regardless of the numerous dangers that threatened them almost constantly. They learned of the many creatures, from the most innocent to the most wicked (Warrior-Priest had made the most curious expression of horror when she learned about the so-called "cazadores"), and how the Courier had encountered almost all of them at some point in her life, and the many ways she had eliminated them. They learned of the weapons used by the people of the Wasteland, from the humblest of knives and swords to the firearms that put to shame what few guns the adventurers had barely even heard of, not to mention how easily available they were to the common citizen.

They all noticed how the Courier glossed over quite a bit of information, never going into detail about governments and related, and truthfully, they didn't mind. Out of the four, only Acolyte received education enough to understand such a thing, and even then, the nuances of a foreign nation's leadership were a bit beyond what she could puzzle out.

They did notice, however, that at no point had the Courier spoken of elves, dwarves, lizardmen or any other beast-kind. None of the races common to their lands seemed to exist, or at the very least were so uncommon, the Courier had apparently never met one in her life…

And yet, they could hear the fondness in the Courier's tone as she spoke of some of the places in the map, such as the small town called "Goodsprings", or of the abandoned fort held by the strangely-named "Followers of the Apocalypse" (Warrior-Priest had actively asked if they were servants of Chaos, yet still remained baffled when the Courier explained them to be healers), or even of the mansion amidst a snowy forest that was inhabited solely by "super-mutants", a type of humanoid that was bigger and stronger than a human, but green and mutated, like an orc, all of them led by another mutant named Marcus.

"Man, for such a small place, it sure has a lot of stuff to see!" said Warrior-Priest cheerfully, her eyes wide in wonder as she stared at the Courier with utter excitement. "And you say there's not even a single Non-Prayer there? That's insane!"

"We still have our own problems to deal with, Warrior," replied the Mojave native in return, as she carefully withdrew the map from the ground and began folding it up once more, before calmly moving towards the hot plate that had finally cooled. "We'll always stand against said threats, however, just like all of you do. The Mojave's been divided for a long time, but now we stand united in the name of the future."

"It's a wonderful goal to have," said Acolyte with a smile. "If your people were to come here as well, I am certain they'd achieve great things."

"I'd definitely welcome the help in fighting evil," added Dark Elf with a huff, the thief rubbing his eyes with one hand while the other toyed with the hilt of his dagger. "We have enough enemies already…"

His brooding, however, was cut off by Warrior-Priest side-tackling and draping an arm over his shoulders, the woman barking out a loud laugh that echoed in the ruined church. "Haha, damn right! Hell, we'd just need some good booze, and we'd be singing and slaying our way through the Non-Prayers like there's no tomorrow!"

"Aye, and what stories we'd be able to share," added Lizardman, the beast-kin chuckling warmly as he side-eyed his colleagues. "Hunts truly worthy of singing to our ancestors."

"Can you imagine them showing up in the capital? 'Ave, we're here to kick ass!'"

Clang!

The sound of metal striking against stone served to shatter their focus on the conversation, and made the four adventurers turn towards the source of the noise. And what they beheld was the Courier, standing strangely still with her hands still grasping the space the hot plate had been occupying, the object now resting on the ground where it had fallen. "Courier? Is everything alright?" asked Acolyte, the faintest tinge of worry clinging to her words as she stared at the woman. When she didn't immediately reply, the healer made to stand up and move to her, but at that moment whatever had afflicted the Mojave native seemed to finally break, allowing her to reply to the question.

"… Sorry, Acolyte, I… just realized I had failed to account for my habits when talking about the Mojave…" said the Courier in a strange monotone, as if she required time to properly process the words she wished to say. "That's… not a greeting of the Mojave per se. It's that of a group that once occupied the Wasteland. They were called Caesar's Legion."

"Oh? Interesting, I do not remember you mentioning them while discussing the Mojave," asked Lizardman Fighter, his tone calm but his gaze still calculating. "Were you a part of this group, then?"

"… Yes… a long time ago. They're no longer in the Mojave, however."

After saying that, the Courier bent down and grabbed the hot plate once more, quickly disappearing it into her coat, before turning on her heel and marching back towards the exit of the ruin, All-American already out and held at rest as she approached the stairs.

Before she could disappear up the stairs however, Warrior-Priest finally managed to work her voice through the strange nervousness building inside her heart. "So… what happened to them?"

That once more made the Courier stop, the woman still facing away from the adventurers as they waited with bated breath for her answer…

"… They are dead. All of them."

It was already a heavy answer, one that dampened the cheer of the four greatly.

But her final addition to it was what truly surprised the adventurers.

"I killed them all myself."

And with that, she disappeared up the stairs, her coat kicking up dust as she ascended the stairs, leaving four shocked adventurers staring at the space she had stood upon scant seconds before.

-O-

Courier? Are you alright?

"I'll manage, Aura."

If you say so… I'll keep an eye to make sure no one sneaks up to us.

"Thank you."

The moon's light only barely broke through the thick canopy of the forest, leaving the ground below bathed in a deep, oppressive and almost living darkness, perfect for any assailant to hide upon. Sadly for these possible assailants, the Courier not only counted with the night vision provided by the helmet of her Elite Riot Gear, her Optics Enhancer made her Perception even higher than normal. Under normal circumstances, she would be able to spot a cloaked night stalker even inside a dark cave, at a distance that would easily let her put a round right between their eyes with deadly accuracy.

Now, however, was sadly not "normal circumstances". For rather than focusing on keeping overwatch, the Courier instead was festering upon the information she had just revealed to the adventurers.

She hadn't meant to, truthfully. Her history with the Legion, and all she had performed in their name, had been a necessary evil. It was what she, Hsu, Chief Hanlon, her assigned therapist and even her companions had said, time and again, to try and ease her back into "normal" life, even when the memories kept themselves at the forefront of her mind, as vivid as the day they had been made. But in the end, she could not blame them for their curiosity. She had been the one to offer to answer whatever questions the party had over her home, without realizing how lost she had become in her nostalgia…

You… will be my greatest success. You will carry the Legion in your heart and soul, and your deeds will be my legacy made manifest.

Feeling her hand begin to tremble in building rage, the Courier instead let go of her carbine, and reached into her coat for something she knew would help her center her mind.

The old Bible felt just as heavy in her grasp now as it did the day Joshua gifted it to her, on the day she visited Zion for the last time. The leather cover had been weathered by time and use, and the golden metal corners had long lost their shine and reflectiveness, but its pages had remained surprisingly intact, and the text was as legible now as it had likely been two hundred years ago.

The word of the Lord shall always endure the tests of time, Joshua had told her when she asked about the Bible's survival. For whenever His guidance is needed, there will His lessons be found. Carry them with you, Courier, and allow them to be a comfort to you, even in the harshest of times.

And to her surprise… he had been right. By no means the Courier had converted, but even still, she had found that perusing the book would bring her serenity of heart and mind, even during the harshest moments of her travels towards the east.

It also made her wonder and hope, once more, that Joshua had indeed found the peace he had searched for since their cleansing of the White Legs.

So, amidst the darkness of the forest, the Courier allowed her mind to wander, even as her other senses remained razor-sharp for signs of ambushers or scouts.

And indeed, at the edge of her hearing, the unmistakable sound of bones rattling and old metal clanking made itself known to her ears, earning a chime from the Pip Boy.

KILLER, THRILLER NIGHT

- Wipe out the skeletons rising from the graveyard, and find their source

- Set up camp and rest for the night

- Follow the tracks left by the patrols back to the source of the undead

~O~

7.7k words isn't exactly my proudest length, but at the same time I felt like leaving this a more fluffy chapter, made of character interactions since the last one was more about character reactions to the Courier.

That leaves me free to do a full action chapter come the next one, so plenty of undead slaying that would make Richter Belmont proud.

In other news, I reworked a LOT of the planned expies that will show up in the future.

For the folks in SpaceBattles, I know it's been a year (or over) since I dropped hints for some of them, so here's the answer to two of them: they were gonna be Brain Unglaus from Overlord, and Debonair from Red Riding Hunter.

Debonair is out, but Brain might still show up, since he was a cool character, even if Overlord is turbo-edgy torture porn garbage that is just an excuse for the author to indulge his fucked up tastes, oops did I type that out loud?

Anyways, here we go, chapter delivered.

For now, I'll go back to Call of Soul, and with any luck, 2023 will start with a Titanomachy chapter, so stay tuned for that!

Until then, peeps!