Sep. 3rd, 2030 04:04 pm
thecourier: (Default)

Mercenary; Courier; Wanderer

NAME: Fiona
JOURNAL: [personal profile] hardtostarboard
PLURK: [ profile] hardtostarboard

CR Chart: Entranceway
IC Inbox: Here
Visualosities: n/a
Your face does the thinking - two to the skull, yet one gets up. Odds are against you... but they're just numbers after the two-to-one. You're playing the hand you've been dealt, but you don't let it rest, you shuffle and stack, and a gamble... a gamble that may pay off? But how? Forecast: Rapidly changing conditions.

The Courier, Danyael Palmer, was born on the road and to this day couldn't tell you exactly where. His parents never told him, and he never cared enough to ask - to be alive at all was a miracle in such a hazardous world. Born to a rough-spoken caravan owner and his spiritual, ex-Tribal wife, his life was that of a traveller from the very beginning and his first steps away from his parents took him to New Reno, the so called 'capital of sin'. Built on the ruins of Reno, New Reno was the home of many things, but most notably several feuding casinos controlled by powerful crime families, most notably the Wrights and the Van Graffs.

Young, thinking himself worldly but in fact far too impressionable, it was easy for him to fall in with the wrong kinds of people, and when he finally wrested himself free of the hellhole he was miraculously clear of any substantial gambling debt, but suffering an addiction to a powerful methamphetamine known as jet, something that was common and easily obtainable in the streets and drug dens of the city. It was a costly mistake and one that he would continue to struggle with, but after leaving New Reno he didn’t touch the stuff for many years.

It was a mixture of coincidence and good fortune that found him taking on a job as a courier in his early twenties. Already well-travelled, having gone as far as Montana and Utah in the years since leaving New Reno behind him, he was just the kind of person needed to carry packages back and forth across the dangerous and unpredictable Mojave desert. Eventually, he settled in a region now known as the Divide and founded a small survivalist community which prospered, drawing new settlers and eventually the attention of the New California Republic, who immediately began to annex it for a newly established supply line across the treacherous region. Though he abandoned the area long before the NCR activity drew Caesar's Legion to attempt to cut the supply line, it would not be the last time he would visit the place, and nor would war be the final destruction of the settlement.

That came at the unwitting hands of Danyael himself, when he was hired by the NCR after their sacking of the Navarro area. They recovered unfamiliar technology bearing familiar symbols - such as the Old World flag - and linked it to similar technology discovered in the Divide. Danyael was sent with a package, containing a working ICBM detonator, a short time before the NCR and the Legion moved into full-out war. Once activated, the device linked with the IBCM computers in the missile silos in the area, sending a signal to the dormant nuclear missiles. They detonated, twisting the landscape and causing massive earthquakes. The NCR and Legion soldiers in the Divide were trapped there together, turned into twisted, skinless ghouls fuelled only by rage and hatred, known as 'marked men' to any who came across them.

Danyael was already long gone by the time the warheads detonated, left barely aware of the events that he had set into motions save for the guilt of it that plagued him in the following years, but unbeknownst to him had created the greatest danger to the post-War civilization of the American Southwest: a man named Ulysses. Someone who had been part of the growing colony taking root in the Divide, with tentative plans to save it from the dual-pronged invasion of the NCR and Caesar's Legion, he blamed Danyael utterly for its destruction, and would shape the Courier's future in more ways than Danyael could possibly realise.

Some time later, Danyael was one of six couriers hired by the Mojave Express to carry strange packages to the New Vegas strip. Danyael, Courier Six, was carrying the platinum chip from the town of Primm. Initially, Ulysses was the courier destined to be carrying this particular package, but upon seeing Danyael’s name on the list of couriers he insisted that he be the one to take it. He had already believed Danyael had perished in the Divide, but he reasoned that the Mojave Wasteland would finish him off easily enough, and left without another word.

On his way to the Strip, Danyael was intercepted by Benny, the head of a faction in the Wasteland with one aim in mind – to usurp control of New Vegas from Mr. House. Bound, gagged and shot in the head, Danyael was dumped into an unmarked grave just outside of the small town of Goodsprings and left for dead, while Benny took the platinum chip that he was carrying. It was an agent of Mr. House, a securitron going by the name of Victor, who dug him out and took him to the house of Doc Mitchell for medical treatment.

After surgery to remove the bullet and some rest to recuperate, Danyael woke in Doc Mitchell’s house with no intentions of staying. Still, he knew when to make the best of a bad situation, and made sure to set down some friendly roots in the town before he left – by fixing the saloon radio and dealing with a small Powder Ganger nuisance. It assured him of a warm welcome should he ever have reason to return, and he left Goodsprings with little but a faint and fading headache for all the trouble he’d got himself into. New Vegas was still some distance away, across a terrain that was treacherous enough for a well-armed group, let alone a single man, but a courier couldn’t afford to be slow and scared even in the toughest of situations.

It was between Goodsprings and New Vegas that a strange broadcast flagged up on the Pip-Boy given to him by Mitchell.

For a man who had abruptly found himself down on his luck, it was a tempting offer. The Sierra Madre was a legend in the wastes, a dead city surrounded by a toxic cloud of poisonous gas created by the scientists in the Big MT, but few had seen it, let alone visited. Danyael found his way to the source of the broadcast, an abandoned Brotherhood of Steel bunker containing nothing but faded posters and a radio. On approaching it, he was immediately knocked unconscious, waking to find that he’d been stripped of all armour and weapons and had been fitted with an explosive collar which, as the hologram of the Brotherhood of Steel Elder Father Elijah informed him, was to keep him in check as he was given orders to find three other people trapped in the villa area and recruit them to pull off the biggest heist for centuries.

The other three collars, Danyael would find, belonged to three very unique individuals. The first was a super mutant suffering from a split personality disorder, swinging between a violent and primitive persona named ‘Dog’, and an intelligent, reasonable personality calling itself ‘God’. The second was a human female called Christine Royce, a mute member of the Circle of Steel, a splinter faction of the Brotherhood of Steel. Finally, the third collar belonged to one Dean Domino. After successfully freeing the first two, Dean proved to be a tougher challenge, with Danyael not willing to simply bow to being an errand boy, but the wish to get out of the Sierra Madre overrode any instant dislike he might have taken to the courier and he, too, agreed to be a party in Father Elijah’s plans.

They learned that the only way to gain entry to the casino was to trigger the Gala Event, which had been interrupted by the onset of the Great War centuries earlier. Avoiding the ghost people (strange, twisted creatures trapped in hazmat suits that might have once been human, but now only mute abominations), Danyael escorted each of his companions to three key areas in the city. It was a difficult and nerve-wracking task, between the aggressive locals, the Cloud, and the explosive collar which would beep when in range of speakers attached to walls throughout the winding streets, threatening to activate if ignored for too long.

With the Gala Event in full swing and the Sierra Madre hotel opened, the four reluctant thieves entered and began working their way through the empty hotel. Filled with traps and hostile security holograms it was just as dangerous on the inside as the outside, but eventually their paths led them to the Tampico theatre, where Dean Domino betrayed the group and fled backstage. Pursued by Danyael, he refused to give up the key for the exit and forced the courier to kill him before fleeing to avoid the automatic detonation of his collar. With another key retrieved from Christine, the passcode for the elevator to the lower levels of the casino collected and everything in place, Danyael descended to the twisting labyrinth of ducts and catwalks that made up the underbelly of the Sierra Madre. He ran a gauntlet of security holograms and speakers before finally arriving at his destination – the Vault itself.

There, he found loot beyond measure of value, more than he’d ever be able to spend in a lifetime. Gold bars worth ten thousand caps each or more, armour and more ammo than he’d ever seen in one place. The vault door sealed behind him, and finally he heard Father Elijah’s voice once again. Claiming that he would destroy the vault if the other man didn’t face him, he coerced Elijah into coming to him, and filled the man with bullets.

After all, he had plenty to spare.

He explored only a little more once he’d wrested the collar from around his neck, exiting the front gates of the villa not long after. Danyael would never return to the Sierra Madre, leaving it to its secrets.

His thoughts turned back to the man who had shot him, and the package that he’d taken. Danyael hadn’t known what he was carrying, only that it looked like a casino chip, and the more he thought on it the more the idea that it had to be more than it seemed nagged at him. The only problem was that he didn’t know where to begin, and his only lead came from a short stop in first in Primm and then Novac, where he discovered that the man who had shot him had passed through in the company of a group of Great Khans, heading towards Boulder City.

He arrived there to find the NCR and Great Khans in the middle of a standoff, and quickly volunteered to enter the city and negotiate for the release of the NCR soldiers being held hostage. Completing this task without bloodshed, and further negotiation on behalf of the Great Khans to assure they’d be allowed to leave in peace gained him the respect of both parties, and before the Khans left their leader Jessup gave Danyael a gift – an engraved lighter which he immediately recognised as belonging to Benny. He pocketed it, knowing it would become useful in the future, and learned that Benny had forged on ahead to the Strip.

Once he’d gained entrance to the Strip, tracking Benny down was easy. It was some smooth talking that persuaded his right hand man Swank to distract him while Danyael snuck up to his suite to search for the chip, and while there he came across a strange securitron program calling itself Yes Man. It was an AI program serving as Benny’s assistant and an integral part of his plan to take over New Vegas, but there was a fatal flaw in his obedient programming – he always had to do as he was told, but exactly who he took orders from was completely unrestricted. Danyael saw the potential there instantly, and told the AI to wait for him while he headed down to the casino floor to confront Benny face to face.

It didn’t end well, and the kind of luck that allowed Danyael to survive a shot to the head wasn’t something that Benny possessed.

Leaving Swank in charge, Danyael followed a hunch and returned to Yes Man, hatching a plan quietly in the back of his mind as he headed back up to the top floor suites. It was insane, yes, but with the resources suddenly at his disposal, perhaps it would be possible.

He could free New Vegas from the tyrannical rule of Mr. House, the constant fear of the Legion and the iron grip of the NCR in one fell swoop, if he played his cards right. Yes Man confirmed his thoughts, but it wouldn’t be easy. Danyael would have to travel far to gain the support of some useful factions if he wanted more certainty of being successful, and though he could simply ignore them and go ahead with his idea, he knew that it may well be exchanging one type of anarchy for another.

So, he left The Tops and Yes Man moved to the front of the casino, waiting for him to return and give further orders.

It would be a longer wait than was initially expected by anyone, most of all Danyael himself. A mysterious signal picked up by his Pip-Boy led him to an old drive-in, where he found a crashed satellite still smoking in the middle of a crater and surrounded by exploded cars. You didn’t find tech like this every day that hadn’t already been picked clean so of course he approached, in the hope of finding something to use or sell. What he found instead was a whole heap of trouble.

Waking up in a strange place with a thudding headache and feeling a few pounds heavier than usual, he stumbled out to the balcony surrounding the rooms he found himself in and tried to make sense of what he was seeing outside. A crater, just barely visible but stretching in a complete circle around him and inside it, as far as he could see, stretches of wasteland dotted here and there with buildings and the occasional small patch of green. He briefly considered vaulting over the balcony railing, but reasoned that even if his legs survived the fall, he had no idea of how he was going to get out of here.

It was with some measure of relief that he found all of his gear left inside a locker, and after dressing and checking all of his weapons he made his way deeper into the building. What he found there was far beyond anything he might have expected.

A group of pre-War doctors and scientists, all long-since removed from their physical bodies and living as unique brain bots, their brains suspended in a sphere-shaped body and three television screens forming crude faces in front of them. It was clear that some effort had gone into maintaining an illusion of humanity, and Danyael was quickly told just why he had been brought there - they needed his help. Living in fear of a tyrannical and evil individual who had once been one of them, they didn’t dare leave The Sink but required the aid of someone like the courier to track down their nemesis and finish him once and for all. Through careful probing, he found out that this enemy had once been one of them - someone that they called ‘Mobius’ - and it was less through sympathy and more due to the fact that he had no other choice that he agreed to help them.

In the course of his abduction, the Think Tank had also removed the courier’s spine, heart and brain. Strangely, despite being without all of these things, he felt remarkably well. The heart and spine had been replaced with mechanical parts but, as one of the Think Tank scientists awkwardly admitted, his brain had been flushed and was now likely with Mobius himself. All the more incentive for him to find the other scientist.

Before he left, however, Danyael decided to try and get to know his captors a little better. They seemed amicable enough and not too eager to kill him, so he spoke to each one in turn. Doctor Klein proved to be a somewhat sociopathic individual with an obsession with anything remotely phallic, who had long since forgotten any medical knowledge that he might have possessed. Borous, a scientist with a powerful voice and a flair for the dramatic clearly had a great many unresolved issues dating back to his childhood. Doctor Dala, a female fascinated with the human body and in particular the courier’s biorhythm’s was very excited when he offered to stand there and simply breathe so that she could observe, making her an easy ally to gain. The robotics expert Doctor O revealed in short order that he recognised the Pip-Boy around Danyael’s wrist and would have spitefully removed it by force had he still had hands, but his demeanour became far more pleasant when the courier realised that his name was, in fact, Doctor Zero and everyone had simply been pronouncing it wrong the whole time. Finally, the quietest of the group, Doctor 8 had lost the ability to speak some time ago due to damage to his voice module. Danyael offered to take a look, commenting that since the good doctor was already practically mute, he couldn’t possibly to any more damage, and in the brain bot’s coding he recognise very clearly the hallmarks of RobCo technology. He warned the doctor that it would be very easy to hack him, but that he wouldn’t, and thus earned a large measure of gratitude.

With an idea in mind of just who he was now ‘working’ for, Danyael headed out in to the Big MT facility. There, he found mounting evidence of the doctor’s prior lives and also the experiments and tests which had been run both before and after the bombs fell two hundred years previously. Though some of the experimentation had been run on animals, there were also many clear signs that much of the testing had been run on human subjects. This understandably dented Danyael’s desire to actually help the Think Tank, but he still needed to get his brain back and so he pushed on, tracking the rogue scientist to the aptly named ‘Forbidden Zone Dome’. He battled his way past the defences and robotic insects, finally facing off against a massive mechanical scorpion before he was finally able to stand before Doctor Mobius… and finally able to get the truth.

Mobius was not the evil that the Think Tank had painted him as. Rather, he had tired of the sadistic torture and endless, horrible experimentation perpetrated by the other members of his group, the length of time that they had spent in their current state having twisted and warped them into amoral, psychotic shadows of their former selves. While at first Danyael challenged the extent of Mobius’ meddling - the Think Tank now barely knew who they were and were utterly delusional, living in constant fear it soon became clear that all that Mobius had done, he had done for their own good and for the good of the Wasteland, knowing exactly what would happen should the Think Tank scientists ever escape Big MT. He didn’t need to be a doctor himself to realise that Mobius’ ability to reason and think rationally was also on a steady decline, but the scattered empty Mentat and Psycho boxes made the reason for most of that abundantly clear.

Danyael found himself torn. His own reason told him that he should destroy Mobius here and now, then return to the other members of the Think Tank and put all of them down too, but it was a strong sense of pity that stayed his hand. Rather than attack, he opted to take a seat and listen to what Mobius had to say. He wanted to understand everything before he made any kind of rash decision. They talked, then the doctor directed him to his own brain, floating in a tank nearby. It was a surreal experience to be able to speak with it and even more so to need to convince it that the best place for it was inside his own head, but once that was a success, he returned to Mobius and offered to deal with the Think Tank… one way or another.

Doctor Klein was not in the least bit impressed that the courier had both reasoned with Mobius and left him alive, but Danyael had to have faith in the trust he had gained from the other members of the Think Tank group and could only hope that they would back him up. Dala came to his defence first of all, requesting that he not be harmed, and Zero then commented on his ‘good ideas’, suggesting that they might be better served in keeping the ‘lobotomite’ alive. Doctor 8 chipped in, in his own way, to state that he refused to do any harm to him. Finally, Doctor Borous, whose feelings had been touched by the courier’s sparing of his childhood pet Gabe (now a monster of a cyberdog thanks to the scientist’s meddling) and the returning of his water bowl, provoking memories of his childhood and the animal being his only friend, also stated that he didn’t want to perform any actions against their prisoner. Even so, it seemed for a moment that Klein would ignore the protests and simply do as he wished, but even the egotistical doctor couldn’t argue with logic and the fact that over half of his team disagreed with his ‘findings’ was one that he couldn’t deny. He agreed to remain inside the Big MT, continuing his research and experiments in partnership with the courier (something that he decided he ‘liked’ the idea of, though he found that to be a strange thought) and the courier, relieved beyond measure, was finally free to go. Once his organs had all been put back in the right places.

It wouldn’t be the last that he would see of the Big MT. Danyael kept a close eye on the place in the time that followed, evaluating each of the developments and new inventions produced by the Think Tank until such time as they were needed.

He had no doubt that the place would prove its worth in the future, but for now he had more than enough to think about. Back in the Mojave Wasteland, he still had a job to do.

Back on track, if still somewhat shaken by his latest experience, he made the easy decision to avoid the Brotherhood of Steel. It would be too difficult for him to persuade them that his plans would bear fruit, and they’d be more likely to hinder or try to stop him than offer him any kind of aid, even in return for promises of technology and status. New Vegas was left behind him as he struck out towards the mountains north west of the city, hiking through winding paths and hunting trails before he finally came upon a miraculously intact lodge. What met him at the door was a surprise in more ways than one – a super mutant, but intelligent and peaceful, with no intentions of harming him. He introduced himself as Marcus, the founder of what he referred to as ‘Jacobstown’, a place that was to be a refuge and safe haven for super mutants and nightkin alike.

Though he wanted no part in Danyael’s personal bid to take over New Vegas, he did request the courier’s help with a difficulty they had been having with some local bounty hunters. Super mutants were regarded as little more than dangerous beasts by many, and there were a great number of humans who would happily see them eradicated. Following Marcus’ wishes, he saw the hunters off without bloodshed, with a few well-placed bullets at their feet doing the trick. Though he left Jacobstown only with as much as he’d taken in, minus a fraction of ammo, he did gain a new respect for humanity, and how a person didn’t necessarily have to be human to have it.

So, Danyael ventured into the Mojave to gather potential allies for his cause. The Boomers, a volatile tribe who once occupied Vault 34, living in the abandoned Nellis Air Force Base, had their attention drawn to the courier first by his being able to make it to the gates of the compound at all (after having to dodge a hazardous mine field of explosives and fiery bombardment). After he made his good intentions known by willingly performing several errands around the base and even helping one of the residents find love with someone from an outside settlement, the final task that they asked of him was the raising of an ancient B-29 from nearby Lake Mead for refitting by the Boomers.

Convinced of his genuine good will, the Boomers happily agreed to aid him should his plans end in a battle, and he needed only to call on them when he needed their help.

His next stop was to the home of the Great Khans, and he arrived just in time to stop a plot by Caesar’s Legion that would have proven disastrous for the clan. Unearthing the Legion’s plans to enslave the Khans earned their trust, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to get them on his side without causing too much death to make it worthwhile. Appealing to their nature, he encouraged them to seek their own glory, and they agreed to leave the Mojave in search of better pastures to build up the strength of their tribe.

Finally, a return to the Strip was needed for his last two stops. The White Glove Society and the Omertas, two large factions in the city of New Vegas, would need to be evaluated before he could decide whether or not he could earn their support. The Omertas proved simple – by cutting off the head of the organisation and replacing it with one more likely to listen, he secured the support of the Gomorrah casino. The White Glove society, however, proved to be more of a delicate situation than he ever could have anticipated. The Society had kidnapped a local brahmin rancher’s son and, as Danyael discovered, he was being held in one of the rooms below the casino as part of a scheme by the cannibalistic faction member Mortimer, who was attempting to return the White Glove Society to their former cannibalistic ways by serving the rancher’s son as the main course in a special banquet.

Infiltrating the private section of the casino, Danyael freed the prisoner and led him out, carefully timing their escape in order to expose Mortimer’s plot. The man fled, but was felled with a shot to the back before he even made it to the door. The society, grateful for Danyael’s intervention and his keeping quiet about what exactly had happened to the rancher’s son and why, thought well of him from then on and offered their silent support in his interactions with the rest of the Strip.

There was one major obstacle that still stood in his way if he wanted to truly free New Vegas from the tyranny that gripped it. Mr. House, self-styled President, CEO, and sole proprietor of the New Vegas Strip. An integral part of his plan before the Great War was the very platinum chip that Danyael had been carrying around the wasteland with him since he’d taken it from Benny’s corpse. Actually a storage chip containing a massive OS upgrade for his Securitrons and the laser defence network, the chip was supposed to be delivered in the afternoon of October 23, 2077. Unfortunately, approximately 20 hours before this, the War began and the chip was lost for two centuries.

Still alive and kept that way in a specially designed chamber and over two hundred and sixty years of age by the time he crossed paths with the courier, Mr House was a pragmatist, and attempted more than once to gain Danyael’s co-operation after his first arrival in the Strip. Perhaps he saw something in him – the same driven determination that he had himself – or perhaps he knew what a danger the courier could be to him, but he didn’t count on the man actually having the audacity to attempt to wrest control of the Strip away from him.

Danyael was certainly audacious enough, and the level of security within Mr House’s private rooms was a clear testament to the fact that he never expected anyone to get so close to destroying him. He walked, unopposed, down the gangway leading to where Mr House lay in a specially designed, airtight chamber that both kept him alive and kept him connected to the massive computer network spread out over the entirety of New Vegas and the areas beyond, and he looked down through the glass at the decrepit form of the defenceless pre-War businessman.

It was only with the smallest of hesitations that he opened the chamber. Fresh air hissed inside it for the first time in almost two hundred years and Mr House, amazingly still able to speak, told him only that his ‘Vanity Project’ was doomed to failure. He would be dead within a year, unable to cope with the contaminants that came along with breathing natural air, and Danyael may have been many things but a monster he was not. A quick death was granted, a single shot to the skull that rocked the withered form and ended his life instantly. Mr House was dead, but the Strip wouldn’t yet know it, and Danyael was free (for the time being) to continue in his plans. A free New Vegas, he was sure, wouldn’t be the same as it had been under Mr House and the NCR – he had seen too many lives ruined by the latter to want to go to them for help this late in the game, when he was so close to succeeding that he could taste it.

He had lain low until that point, avoiding the notice of the NCR and Caesar's Legion, but upon discovering the location of one of Mr House’s bunkers from Yes Man after the demise of the man himself, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to avoid them any longer. The bunker was directly under Fortification Hill, a major outpost of the Legion and the seat of Caesar himself, and it was there that Danyael headed next, killing a lone Legionnaire on route and making use of his armour to get past the outermost layers of security. However, though he had kept his movements as quiet as he could, the Legion had eyes and ears everywhere and Caesar had already heard of him.

And he was impressed.

Impressed enough to ask the courier to do something for him; which happened to take him to the very place that he wanted to go. Caesar asked him to destroy the bunker, but instead of that, he upgraded the securitrons inside using the platinum chip that he still carried. Assuming that the rumblings he had felt had been due to the bunker’s destruction, Caesar let him go, and he wasted no time in leaving lest the man discover his deception before he could put enough distance between them.

Next, he made his way to the El Dorado sub-station, a power sub-station near a solar energy plant called HELIOS One. Occupied by the NCR, it was a dangerous place for him to be with very little cover to hide him from patrols, and more than once as he crept at what felt like a snail pace across the wasteland he had to dive behind a rock or into a patch of prickly shrubs to avoid being seen. The substation was occupied by a small troop of NCR soldiers, easily avoided by use of a stealth boy, and Danyael was in and out of the place like a ghost, disappearing into the thick darkness of the Mojave night to set the final part of the plan into motion.

Tensions had been gathering for months, unprompted by Danyael’s actions, between the NCR and the Legion, and it snowballed explosively as the Legion attacked Hoover Dam, a place which had long been an NCR stronghold supplying power to New Vegas and the areas around it. When Danyael arrived at the Dam the fighting had already begun, but he paid them no mind, letting the securitron he had brought with him deal with any hostiles on his tail as he darted across the dam and inside, where he installed an override chip into a terminal and contacted Yes Man, activating the upgraded securitrons hidden beneath Fortification Hill.

He left the dam to see fires burning in legate Lanius’ camp at the far end of the dam, and as he pressed towards it the Boomers, who had promised their aid to him so long ago he’d almost forgotten it, flew across in their refitted B-29 and cut a swathe through the Legion soldiers blocking his path. With only the NCR and scattered Legion soldiers to deal with, the securitrons streaming down from the eastern end of the dam offered ample cover for his approach and he climbed the hill to the legate’s camp, coming face to face with the Monster of the East, Legate Lanius.

It seemed foolish to cause further bloodshed when his own victory was all but assured, but Lanius wasn’t to be reasoned with. He and his legionaries attacked, forcing Danyael to retaliate and kill all of them.

Tired and wounded, he turned tail and headed back to the camp gate, only to find six NCR veterans and none other than General Oliver, a commanding officer of the New California Republic. He knew that he wouldn’t survive another confrontation, but thankfully the NCR soldiers were easier to talk down from conflict, and although it was reluctant on their part they listened to what he said, and eventually stepped aside, allowing him to leave with the promise that they would soon be doing the same.

Just like the Divide before it, the Mojave Wasteland would be forever changed by his actions. The Legion and the NCR were driven from Hoover Dam, securing New Vegas’ independence from both factions, and with Mr House out of the picture, part of the securitron army was diverted to the Strip to keep the peace. The ensuing chaos became uncertainty, then shifted slowly to acceptance with a minimal loss of life, and New Vegas assumed its position as an independent power in the Mojave. The Boomer’s display of power at the Second Battle of Hoover Dam ensured that no fortune seekers attempted to penetrate Nellis, and although the Fiends continued to be a nuisance throughout Outer Vegas, they never truly gained a foothold in the area.

Goodsprings thrived under an independent New Vegas, and Danyael never forgot the kindness that he had found there. The small town grew prosperous as travellers stopped by on their way to and from the Strip, and the courier visited often, always buying a round of drinks for everyone whenever he did. Within New Vegas, the once anarchic Freeside became known as one of the most stable areas in the region, even safe for the NCR refugees when so much resentment still lingered for their faction.

As they promised, the Great Khans evacuated, heading out into Wyoming. There, they reconnected with the Followers of the Apocalypse and built their strength into a mighty empire bolstered by ancient knowledge of governance, transportation and economics.

It was about a year before he would stray too far from the Strip again, building up the infrastructure and enjoying the company of the good friends he had made on his journeys, but the courier had never been the kind of person to stay in one place for too long. Just when he was beginning to get itchy feet, he picked up a transmission from a caravan owner named Jed Masterson, about the ‘Happy Trails Caravan’ which would soon be heading through Zion on its way to New Canaan. Danyael found himself intrigued for one very important reason - his mother had come from that area - but he didn’t need a reason to pull himself out of the Lucky 38 and slip out of the Strip before anyone could wonder where he might have gone.

Nothing was ever easy in the nuclear wasteland, but Danyael didn’t expect things to go wrong as quickly as they did. From almost the moment that they stepped into Zion, a group of locals ambushed the caravan and slaughtered everyone but the courier himself. From cover, he put down their attackers and then took a moment to think. He could go back, or he could press on forwards. Good sense told him to go back, but curiosity and a sense of adventure had him up on his feet and crossing the bridge over a canyon ahead. From a distance, more of the tribals attempted an attack, only to be thwarted by an unseen assailant who revealed himself peacefully to Danyael moments later.

Follows-Chalk identified the attackers as members of a tribe called the White Legs and he himself as one of the Dead Horses tribe, offering to lead the courier to their camp. A seasoned explorer, Danyael knew that establishing a safe base in a strange land was one of the most important first steps and so he agreed, following the young man through the winding cliffs and natural pathways on their way to the settlement. Follows-Chalk was a friendly, talkative sort with some naïve views of the place that his companion came from, not understanding why he carried so many bottlecaps around with him (they made so much noise), but he had been honest in his offer and once at the Dead Horses camp he instructed the courier to speak to their leader, a man named Joshua Graham.

His introduction to this man set in motion a series of events that quickly culminated in a full-frontal assault against the hostile White Legs. Joshua, seeking to protect the tribe which now so heavily relied upon him and also wishing to alleviate some guilt based in mistakes he had made on his initial arrival in Zion many years previously and prior to his affiliation with the Legion. The courier saw the sense in what Joshua was trying to do and opted to aid him, the two of them soon putting a plan together to invade the White Legs’ camp and put a stop to the tribe once and for all by executing their leader.

The White Legs knew they were coming, blocking the main path to their camp. Infuriated, Joshua abandoned the courier at this point, stating that he would finish this no matter what. Sensing trouble, Danyael pressed on and a short time later came upon Joshua executing a pair of captured White Legs before swiftly moving on to their leader. That the ex-Legion missionary took the time to share some words with the White Legs’ leader was all that narrowly saved the latter’s life. He spied the courier approaching and called out to him, pleading for him to bring reason to the situation. Speaking quickly, he talked Joshua down from his fury and persuaded him to spare the tribe’s leader - they had already done enough, the White Legs were finished.

Though he didn’t see it then, breaking through Joshua’s anger caused a change in the man that would resonate in the years to come. He accompanied him back to the Dead Horses camp and spoke with him for some time, discussing scripture and the value in it. Though he had never been a religious man, Danyael was eventually forced to admit that he could see the sense and even value in many of the things that Joshua said. When they parted, the man gave him his book of scripture, telling him to do what he wished with it. They would not see one another again.

Danyael returned to the Strip with many things to think about, but he wasn’t given much time to rest before another radio signal forced him to sit up and pay attention. A transmission from Ulysses, a man whose actions had been haunting him for years and who he was more than sure wished him dead, it read simply ‘Courier Six’ and a set of coordinates, signed with the man’s name as his only way to know its origins. He didn’t need to look twice at the coordinates to know exactly where he had to go and there was a sense of foreboding that chilled his blood even before he confirmed his suspicions. This time, he would bid a farewell to his companions and instruct Arcade to take care of Rex, and though he didn’t voice the fear that he might not return, they all somehow knew that this might be a final goodbye.

With a heavy heart, the courier retraced steps that he recalled only as a ghost of a memory, the scenery familiar, but only as if he had dreamed it. He made his way through abandoned military silos to the wreckage of a settlement that he had once called his home - Hopeville, now a smouldering ruin populated only by the anger-fuelled shells known as ‘marked men’. Danyael had not thought about this place for some time, but it was only in speaking with Ulysses (through a captured ED-E, found in the silo) that he realised just how much he had forgotten.

Fighting marked men and other mutated monsters, over wreckage and through pitch black tunnels he made his way to the coordinates he had been given and wondered if Ulysses had made things this difficult on purpose, as a test or simply to see if this would finally finish him once and for all. Whatever the reason, when he stumbled battered and bruised, skin tingling with radiation into the other man’s lair he knew that he was in no state to be able to fight him.

So, he tried to reason with him, discovering the truth behind Ulysses’ intentions. He was going to drop nuclear warheads on the entire West, as punishment for what he perceived as their transgressions. This, in the courier’s mind, was far worse than anything he had ever done. His actions had been an accident, but this was pure genocide. Even knowing the truth of his words, that in time the warring factions of the Mojave would destroy everything in it and then each other, he had seen too much to not want to give it all another chance. Maybe it was for selfish reasons, but he carefully manoeuvred his way through Ulysses’ metaphors and rambling -if poetic - dialogue, and persuaded him, bit by bit, that there was still something in the Mojave worth saving… and he could be the one to save it.

They fought side by side against the marked men who flooded the building, barely making it out alive through a hail of gunfire. When things were quiet once again, save for the warning alarms still blaring through the building, Danyael found himself once again with a choice that could save or cost the lives of hundreds.

This time, he wouldn’t make the same mistake.

Freeing ED-E to assist him, he successfully aborted the launch of the nuclear missiles. Many might have taken the opportunity to wipe both of their enemies off the map in one brutal swoop, but he knew that if he was to best the Legion and NCR, it couldn’t be like this.

He and Ulysses parted, not as friends but with a respect for one another that neither man could deny. Danyael did not feel beaten but… strangely hollow, as if learning the truth had in its own way taken something from him. He returned to the New Vegas Strip to a joyous welcome from his friends - one that eased his doubts and made it easier to put the worst of it behind him - but he wouldn’t easily forget everything that he had learned.

One person really could change the course of a nation, for good or ill. Ulysses had taught him that.

Since his time in the Big MT, he has had a sub-dermal implant that injects a non-addictive form of jet into his system twice a day. It sharpens his perception, but does nothing special otherwise.

He is also proficient with several different kinds of firearms, has a gift for bringing a peaceful resolution to a situation and is probably the luckiest guy to ever stumble his way across the Mojave Wasteland.
AGE: 41
HEIGHT: 5'10"
BUILD: Wiry/Muscular
HAIR: Dark blond
EYES: Grey/Blue
STATUS: Taken (Eway only) | Single
OCCUPATION: Courier/Mercenary

ROMANCE: N (Entranceway only)
KILLING: Y - ask first!


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The Courier

June 2017

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