Once your ready, you can begin. You can start anywhere you wish, I'll begin. A figure walking was walking alongside the I-93 highway, holding a Hunting Rifle in his hands as he walked amongst what appeared to be the remnants of a massacre. At least a dozen Legion assassins, appearing to be ranked anywhere from Decanus all the way up to a single Centurion were dead, scattered across the highway. The wastelander wasn't very impressed, usually Caesar would be sending more assassins after him. He remembered when he was in Arizona and he receiving Legion attacks everywhere he went. He thought Caesar was getting sloppy, he needed to step up his game. He went over to the bodies to see if they had anything useful, many of them had some fairly decent weaponry, one of them having a Super Sledge and the other having a bucket load of 308. rounds. The figure took the ammunition and left the bodies to rot in the dry Mojave sun, it was sending a message to Caesar. Within the last four years, the wastelander had been earning somewhat of a legendary reputation inside the Legion as being the "Demon of the West", and they were right. Caesar forbid talking of his name around the fort much like the first legate, because he knew deep down, Caesar was terrified. In the Legion, the soldiers were taught to fight and were more disciplined than even the NCR's best. They were fearless and were terrifying on the battlefield. But...why were they so petrified of a single man? The man walked away across the stretch of lonesome highway, heading north towards Vegas.
John slowly lowered his rifle after watching the head of some Powder Ganger leader explode, sighing as he slid the rifle into its holster, he got up to a crouch and watched through binoculars as confusion suddenly rippled through the gang of 6. Before he knew it, they were fighting each other, no doubt over an argument of who would lead them then. Chuckling as one made the idiotic move of pulling out some dynamite he turned and walked away. Ever since the Powder Gangers broke out, the Mojave Express has had him clearing the roads just before their Couriers past through. It wasn't hard work, most of the time, the Powder Gangers either killed each other or just gave up and went their seperate ways into the Wastes once their leader was killed. However, he had a personal bounty, being the man who shot and killed Eddie, the big man of the Powder Gangers and whose death would likely cause the entire structure of the Powder Gangers to fall in the same pattern of their individual squads. He walked his way down the hill and up a road to the town of Goodsprings, where he planned to yay for the night, unaware he had just cleared the road for a Courier carrying a far more important package than just his leader killing bullets.
Niza was in Goodsprings, already causing a ruckus. She decided it'd be a good place to start up her campaign of spreading the influence of the NCR across the Mojave. Starting simple, she decided to help with local varmint problem, going out with patrols and mowing down every mutated creature in sight. Afterwards, she upped her game after a few Powder Gangers came in town and started tearing down her home-made NCR posters. With a kind word, a good walking distance, and her .45 coming back with two bullets gone, she managed to sort out the problem in her, and what she believed to be the NCR's, favor. As she stepped back from one of her posters she hung up on the side of Saloon, she couldn't help but feel the feeling of pride of her work. She gallantly strolled into the saloon for a few drinks and rest before going on another patrol.
"Oh and I speak to myself, what a wonderful world." A man said. His name was John Forge, one of the most feared men among all cites and towns. Bodies laid across the road, in front and behind him. Forge was known as the Walking Death, or, The Contractor rather. He was idolized in several places, but did not care much of it. From the bodies he counted, Forges legion kill count was up to 30, including a few deathcalw that had come right after the fight. He had his upgraded 9 mm. pistol in one hand, and dropped a machete from the other, and started thinking. What if he was the one to kill Caesar, what if he could stop the legion itself. Forge searched the bodies, finding more armor piercing ammunition than he could have ever dreamed of. Forge continued to walk down the road, already discovering almost all of the locations in the Mojave. He walked, and walked , and walked. Hoping that someone who was the perfect reflection of him, would fight him to the death.
The man known to the world as Damien Winters headed south, heading to intercept a Legion raiding party heading towards the smaller towns amongst the south of the Mojave. Upon intercepting the raiding party after finding a radio connected to the assassins he had killed, his destination would be to head south,traveling towards the small town of Goodsprings until he would stop the raiding party in his tracks. Damien had also discovered that the Powder Gangers had taken the nearby correctional facility as their main headquarters, so he could have just eliminated two threats at once. Lifting a black slave scarf over his head like a hood, he headed across the roads in search for the problem, then eventually making his way to Caesar. If anybody was going to kill him, it was going to be him.
John pushed open the door to the "Prospector Saloon" and into the building itself. Stepping past Sony Smiles and that damn dog of hers, he walked his way into the bar area where he saw Trudy. He knew from exprience bar tenders of small towns tended to know all the ins and outs of the place. "Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes!" Trudy remarked. "Yea, the I-15 ain't that hospitapal of a place for Couriers such as myself. Ended up getting turned on back by some dang Deathclaws." He lied, "Probably took down a good one or two from afar, but the way they just kept running had me turnin' heel back to Sloan!" Trudy laughed, "Shoulda listen to me! Now, Im sure you're thirsty by now, can I get ya somethin' to drink?" John nodded and ordered a water, which he took a quick swig of before looking curiously at Trudy, "So, anything new 'round these parts?" "No, not really, other than it's pretty much going to hell everywhere. Powder Gangers and Deathclaws blocking up the '15, Legion and some Raider tribes makin the '95 just as much of a livin' hell. And NCR ain't doing jack squat 'bout it, they're just sittin' round at the Dam and all them other place they got as bases and not really doin' much. Patrols going less and less, you know." John nodded, "Yea, I know. The way I see it, the last good times for quite some time has gone and past, no matter which way this dang thing goes." Trudy gave a slight nod, "I reckon I agree."
Forge made his way through Sloan, giving the workers there enough caps to last 'em. He had a few more locations to discover, one of which was closest, Goodsprings. Now if he remembered correctly, there was some shoot out between the powder puff gangers and the towns people. Those gangers got blown to hell. Forge was pretty close to the small town, and was standing in the middle of a cemetery. He made his down the hill putting his weapons in his holsters. Forge walked around to the front of what looked like an old saloon. He then walked in, and was being barked at by a blue heeler until it's owner called it off. He then continued to the other side of the wall, where the counter and the bar tender was. Forge looked like hell, new cuts, bullet wounds, and sunburn. Forge sat next to some random guy, and before the bar tender could asked what he wanted, "Water, just water please." As soon as she set the large glass of water on the table, she spoke. "Well, never seen ya' around these parts." "trust me, i'm not from here. I have stayed up day and night trying to hunt legion." Forge said. he looked at the guy sitting right next to him, and took a look at the guys weapons before looking down at his drink, "Nice inventory you got there."
While heading down the I-15, Damien was lucky enough to receive a visit from three powder gangers after they demanded that the stranger pay their toll or else be killed. Damien studied the three men, and was laughing on the inside. The Powder gangers were not only very poorly armed, but their choice in only using their convict clothing meant that they had absolutely no armour at all, despite one having a riot vest in a poor condition over his clothing. "Stop!" Said one of the Power Gangers, pointing a 9mm at Damien's head. "You've wondered into our territory, and you need to pay up like everybody else." Damien just looked around with his hands on his hips. "I....don't see anybody else." Damien replied sarcastically. "And I had no idea that this part of the woods was under new management." "We're not playing around" Damien overheard from another Powder Ganger "We're trying to have a serious conversation with you!" "Oh, so am I, and I'm failing, and I'm sorry for that." Damien said with a slight hint of humour before looking at the three Powder Gangers. "It's just that I've been so annoyed just recently, because these three little [Redacted] just stopped a simple traveller from being on his way. Enforcing me to commit to a toll system, and is now trying to threaten me like their alcoholic fathers." Damien then moved towards the three Powder Gangers impossibly fast and held his gladius to the leaders neck. He seen the pupils on the leaders eye shrink to the size of a pea, and was whimpering like a puppy. "Now. Be a sport and let daddy pass the road, would you?" Damien replied before throwing the leader onto the ground. The leader aimed the pistol at Damien's head, with the other Powder Gangers automatically aiming their weapons at him. It seemed a fight was inevitable. "You've disappointed daddy?" Damien said before killing all three of them within the timespan of five seconds, beheading the leader with a single slash. Once they were all dead, Damien then brushed the dirt of his armour before heading down the I-15.
Niza looked up from her drink, hearing Trueman and Trudy bash the NCR She took one last swing and replaced the two missing .45 bullets in their magazine before slapping it in and holstering it. She got up, making her way toward Trueman. As she reached the pair, she leaned up againist the wall near them, listening to them. "Losing faith in the good ol' NCR, I hear?"
"NCR trooper eh? Nice inventory you got there. Let me ask you something, are you guys winning against the legion, or are you guys getting too drunk for your own war, which you will continually hire children to take care of your jobs for you while you take all of the credit. I'm not against the NCR, and i could support it. But, as always, I have something to do rather than play god with little toy soldiers." Forge said, looking at his cup of water. "Not against the NCR, i'm just pointing something out."
Once Primm was in sight, the roads led straight towards the small town and the Mojave Outpost, but the less traveled road headed up towards a small town. Damien was disappointed, the NCR intercepted the party with a team full of Rangers instead of him. Deciding to head up towards the town to refill his canteen and get some grub, the waste-lander headed towards the town. Once he arrived, the sound of a bell echoed across the saloon as eyes instantly were placed upon him.
Niza looked over at the new entry before looking back at Forge, somewhat disappointed. "While, I was glad to hear about your expedition against the Legion, I now see you're just a brat with a gun. Yes, we are winning the war. We will always win the war. The Legion are nothing more than savage slavers and murderers with no morals. Granted they are stubborn, they will fall. Plus, the only reasons our lines are stalled is because were trying to make this land safe while fighting the Legion. If we just rolled on by, you'd still be complaining about us not being here to help and horrible the Mojave wasteland can be. Finally, we do not force anyone to join. Our boys sign up willingly to fight with and serve under officers who earned their rank their fire and brimstone. Obviously you've never had to lead a squad of people you know into the battle, knowing full well a few might be coming. I haven't, but I've meet enough troopers who have." She sighed, taking a deep breath. "And no. I am not a trooper. Yet."
John chuckled, "I guess you haven't quite gotten to know the NCR like I have. You know, NCR killed my family for simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time. If you ask me, NCR was better under standing, not so imperialistic, actually cared about people. Now, it's all about advancing Aaron's agenda across the Wastes. And guess where that will get NCR? Rebellion, that's what." He said simply, "Now..." He suddenly broke off and turned to Trudy, "Where may I get a room for the night, ma'am?"
"My family went crazy, vault 11, the hell hole of god knows what. I had to kill several people for the first time and enjoyed the screams. two months later, NCR troopers decided it would be funny to take something out of the shack I built. Do you know where they are buried? Of course not, they were burnt to ashes." Forge took the last drink of his water, "Names John Forge, the one and only Contractor in the Mojave"
"My father's a mayor of a town back in the NCR, just to let you know out of curiosity." Damien said, lowering his hood and placing his glasses above his head. "As much as I want the NCR to win the war, I don't want them in the Mojave at all. It's not that I don't like them, it's just that they are far to imperialistic. Anything they want, they'll have. It's only been happening since Kimball took to power. He's going to go soon, through blood or simple word. The NCR should stop expanding, or else it would be the death of them. If they do win and they take the Mojave, it's only a matter of time before they advance on Arizona and the rest of Nevada, maybe Utah as well within the next ten years." Damien then looked at Trudy. "Afternoon Trudy, nice to see you again." Damien looked back at the group, more specifically looking at John. His description matched the one that his father told him in a story when he was younger, about how he left the Rangers after the Sack and became Mayor of arroyo. How his father, the chosen one himself, turned to a life of peace after realising what he had done that day. "God...he looks just like him." Damien thought to himself.
Forge looked at the man who was standing. So, he decided to take his hat off, placing it on the bar. "Has anyone here killed a deathclaw before?" Forge asked. He got up, putting down caps for the drink. Forge looked at his pip-boy, wandering what other places he hadn't discovered. He had helped the NCR before, but that was when he was 17 years old. He is 19, and was a homeless man. "If you guys haven't even killed a single deathclaw, then that'll be a shocker, because i can see the flame in all of your eyes."
John shrugged at Forge's question, "Does it matter? Deathclaws ain't that hard to kill, just need the right bullet, the right distance, and need to know where to shoot." He looked at the new stranger, and instantly froze for a split second before reclaiming his cool, Oh God, have they just decided to send the Reaper after me now? Are they that desperate to get me? he thought, panicking internally, hoping that Damien wouldn't just shoot him right there on the spot.
Forge looked at the man standing up, he seemed like nice guy, or thats what Forge thought "He doesn't look all that tough, although I don't wanna start up crap either." Forge popped his neck, and stretched out his body. He grabbed out his 9 mm. pistol and started to clean it with a rag, making sure he gets the scope and the extended magazine spotless.
(Dude. John was not shaking. All I said is he "froze for a split moment then regained his cool", please read the full post)
