Fate is a cruel mistress in the Mojave Wasteland. She has numerous forms, raiders, mutated creatures, an overdose of Jet or just the blazing yellow Mojave sun. In this particular instance, fate has chosen to be a gunshot wound to the head of an unlucky courier. Fate had intended for this individual to live, but like the blackjacks tables on the Strip, nothing is a sure bet. The Courier is dead, but three new individuals will rise to take up the Courier's quest, retrieving the Platinum Chip. But they each have their own agendas and masters. Who will survive to see their faction control the Mojave?
Isabella Jimenez, the independent contractor hired by Mr.House?
Theodore Roosevelt VII, the Veteran NCR Ranger?
Helen of Texas, the controversial female frumentarii of Caesar's Legion?
Isabella Jimenez, Mr. House's Independent Contractor
Isabella Jimenez gazed at the shallow grave before her. She lite a cigarette, illuminating the area around her. Puffing the smoke away, she shook her head.
"Poor sap," Isabella muttered towards the corpse laying in the grave, "Didn't realize this game was rigged form the start."
The corpse, formerly some Mojave Express courier, lay half buried with a gunshot wound to the head. Jimenez couldn't quite make out what gender this courier was, but it didn't matter, they didn't have what she was looking for, a platinum poker chip. Her employer, the de facto leader of New Vegas, Mr. House, hired her to find it, but no dice here. Tossing her cigarette to the ground and dusting the fine Mojave dust form her suit, she made her way down to the small town below, Goodsprings. It looked like a nice enough town, it had a general store, saloon, and a few scattered houses. Real small town New Vegas.
Suddenly, something started to rustle in the tumbleweeds behind her. She spun around and readied her laser rifle towards the unknown force and fired. A mole rat stumbled out with smoke now rising from it's head. She turned around, but jumped back when a screen displaying a happy cowboy's face smiled at her.
"Dammit Victor, you nearly gave me a heart attack," Isabella managed to gasp out.
"Sorry 'bout that pardner," the Securitron said, "People say I have a tendency to do that."
"I bet," Isabella muttered finally catching her breath, "But what exactly are you doing in Goodsprings anyway?"
"I don't rightly know myself," Victor replied, "I've just been going all over the Mojave for a while now."
Isabella nodded her head, "So you see anything strange lately, particularly about that dead courier up at the cemetery?"
"Now that'cha mention it, I did intend to dig up the poor feller, but something pulled me away," Victor said, "It was pretty weird. But I did see a man in a checkered coat flanked with two leather-clad bodyguards leave the vicinity."
"I have a solid feeling I know who you're talking about," Isabella said with a sly grin, "He's a guy named Benny, he's the head of the Tops casino back in New Vegas. I bet he's heading back as we speak. In that case, I'll be going now, thanks for the help Victor."
"No problem little lady," Victor replied enthusiastically, "You take care of yourself now, it's dangerous out at night."
With a nod Isabella departed towards Vegas, it's glowing neon serving as a beacon to all who gazed at it's majesty. Unfortunately, he would have to take the long way back, Deathclaws prowled the Long 15, the most direct way to New Vegas. Hopefully she'd "bump" into Benny on the way. Unbeknownst to her, someone else was looking for the Platinum Chip as well and his shadowy figure had just entered the Goodsprings Saloon.
Theodore Roosevelt VII, NCR Ranger
Roosevelt stepped up to the porch of the Goosprings Saloon, dusted his ranger jacket and properly aligned his rawhide hat. An old prospector gazed at him, his wrinkles containing numerous stories of past scavenging and searching. Teddy gave him a nod and entered the saloon. Just as he had entered a distraught black man barreled past him, but then immediately started to run after he got a good look at the Ranger. Teddy knew something seemed off about the man, but it wasn't his concern at the moment. He saw the female bartender pour a shot of whiskey and downed it in a heartbeat.
"Sorry to interrupt ma'am," Roosevelt said, "But I'm looking for a courier."
He went on to describe the target, but the bartender, Trudy, only had disheartening words to say.
"Yeah I saw this courier earlier today, stopped in to wet his whistle then took off," Trudy reported, "But three men went out with 'em, that's never a good sign. It if helps, one of the men wore a checkered suit and it looks like the men went southeast from here."
"Thank you for the information ma'am," Roosevelt replied with a tip of his hat, "But before I go, who was that man who shot right past me as I came in, he seems like a suspicious fella."
"His name is Joe Cobb," Trudy said, "He's the leader of a group of thugs called the Powder Gangers, they escaped from the NCRCF a while back and have been blowing things up all along the I-15. You being NCR I figured you knew that."
"Just came in from Baja," Roosevelt admitted, "I haven't gotten briefed on current events in the Mojave. I was given the mission of tracking this courier down and relinquishing their package."
"Classy," Trudy smirked.
"Not the most humble of missions," Roosevelt shrugged, "But there orders. Still, it would seem rude to leave you with highly dangerous escaped convicts. But why are they giving you trouble?"
"A man named Ringo came in saying his caravan was jumped by the Gangers and asked for somewhere to lie low," Trudy explained, "I obliged and gave him the key to the gas station up the road. However, it seems Cobb and his boys want to finish the job and that includes killing Ringo."
"I'd be happy to assist you in your struggle," Roosevelt offered.
"We'd appreciate it, but between you and me, we aren't a very competent fighting force, even if you are a Ranger," Trudy pointed out, "We won't last long under a barrage of gunfire and dynamite, so see if you can recruit some townsfolk to join the fight."
Roosevelt nodded and left the saloon. In the back of the bar, another mysterious stranger heard the whole conversation. She got up, paid Trudy for her water, and left the saloon as well. Trudy looked at the payment, Legion currency, and placed them in her register.
Helen of Texas, Female Furmentarii Agent of Caesar.
Helen entered the trailer that once housed "Lone Wold Radio" and discarded her wastrel garb. She donned her Legionary explorers gear, a simple patchwork of armor made from pre-War sports equipment and a hood, and sat down. Setting her radio's frequency to the Legion's, she started to report.
"Come in Desert Fox," Helen said into the mic, "This is Helen of Troy speaking."
The voice of Vulpes Inculta came though, "Ah Helen, any news to report on the Chip?"
"Affirmative," Helen reported, "It is in the possession of an entourage led by a man in a checkered suit. His last known direction is southeast."
"We'll keep an eye out for him," Vulpes replied, "Me and my men are just finishing up out lottery here in Nipton. Head in his direction for the time being."
"Roger, Helen out."
Helen got up and gathered her weapons and gear. He placed numerous natural herbs, salves, and healing powders in a large duffel bag. Along with the bag, she collected her poison pouch and bladed weaponry, five throwing knives, her machete, and a throwing spear. She departed southeast towards the town of Nipton to meet up with Vulpes, even if he didn't get the target, it was always worth it to see how his lotteries turn out.
Isabella Jimenez, the independent contractor hired by Mr.House?
Theodore Roosevelt VII, the Veteran NCR Ranger?
Helen of Texas, the controversial female frumentarii of Caesar's Legion?
Isabella Jimenez, Mr. House's Independent Contractor
Isabella Jimenez gazed at the shallow grave before her. She lite a cigarette, illuminating the area around her. Puffing the smoke away, she shook her head.
"Poor sap," Isabella muttered towards the corpse laying in the grave, "Didn't realize this game was rigged form the start."
The corpse, formerly some Mojave Express courier, lay half buried with a gunshot wound to the head. Jimenez couldn't quite make out what gender this courier was, but it didn't matter, they didn't have what she was looking for, a platinum poker chip. Her employer, the de facto leader of New Vegas, Mr. House, hired her to find it, but no dice here. Tossing her cigarette to the ground and dusting the fine Mojave dust form her suit, she made her way down to the small town below, Goodsprings. It looked like a nice enough town, it had a general store, saloon, and a few scattered houses. Real small town New Vegas.
Suddenly, something started to rustle in the tumbleweeds behind her. She spun around and readied her laser rifle towards the unknown force and fired. A mole rat stumbled out with smoke now rising from it's head. She turned around, but jumped back when a screen displaying a happy cowboy's face smiled at her.
"Dammit Victor, you nearly gave me a heart attack," Isabella managed to gasp out.
"Sorry 'bout that pardner," the Securitron said, "People say I have a tendency to do that."
"I bet," Isabella muttered finally catching her breath, "But what exactly are you doing in Goodsprings anyway?"
"I don't rightly know myself," Victor replied, "I've just been going all over the Mojave for a while now."
Isabella nodded her head, "So you see anything strange lately, particularly about that dead courier up at the cemetery?"
"Now that'cha mention it, I did intend to dig up the poor feller, but something pulled me away," Victor said, "It was pretty weird. But I did see a man in a checkered coat flanked with two leather-clad bodyguards leave the vicinity."
"I have a solid feeling I know who you're talking about," Isabella said with a sly grin, "He's a guy named Benny, he's the head of the Tops casino back in New Vegas. I bet he's heading back as we speak. In that case, I'll be going now, thanks for the help Victor."
"No problem little lady," Victor replied enthusiastically, "You take care of yourself now, it's dangerous out at night."
With a nod Isabella departed towards Vegas, it's glowing neon serving as a beacon to all who gazed at it's majesty. Unfortunately, he would have to take the long way back, Deathclaws prowled the Long 15, the most direct way to New Vegas. Hopefully she'd "bump" into Benny on the way. Unbeknownst to her, someone else was looking for the Platinum Chip as well and his shadowy figure had just entered the Goodsprings Saloon.
Theodore Roosevelt VII, NCR Ranger
Roosevelt stepped up to the porch of the Goosprings Saloon, dusted his ranger jacket and properly aligned his rawhide hat. An old prospector gazed at him, his wrinkles containing numerous stories of past scavenging and searching. Teddy gave him a nod and entered the saloon. Just as he had entered a distraught black man barreled past him, but then immediately started to run after he got a good look at the Ranger. Teddy knew something seemed off about the man, but it wasn't his concern at the moment. He saw the female bartender pour a shot of whiskey and downed it in a heartbeat.
"Sorry to interrupt ma'am," Roosevelt said, "But I'm looking for a courier."
He went on to describe the target, but the bartender, Trudy, only had disheartening words to say.
"Yeah I saw this courier earlier today, stopped in to wet his whistle then took off," Trudy reported, "But three men went out with 'em, that's never a good sign. It if helps, one of the men wore a checkered suit and it looks like the men went southeast from here."
"Thank you for the information ma'am," Roosevelt replied with a tip of his hat, "But before I go, who was that man who shot right past me as I came in, he seems like a suspicious fella."
"His name is Joe Cobb," Trudy said, "He's the leader of a group of thugs called the Powder Gangers, they escaped from the NCRCF a while back and have been blowing things up all along the I-15. You being NCR I figured you knew that."
"Just came in from Baja," Roosevelt admitted, "I haven't gotten briefed on current events in the Mojave. I was given the mission of tracking this courier down and relinquishing their package."
"Classy," Trudy smirked.
"Not the most humble of missions," Roosevelt shrugged, "But there orders. Still, it would seem rude to leave you with highly dangerous escaped convicts. But why are they giving you trouble?"
"A man named Ringo came in saying his caravan was jumped by the Gangers and asked for somewhere to lie low," Trudy explained, "I obliged and gave him the key to the gas station up the road. However, it seems Cobb and his boys want to finish the job and that includes killing Ringo."
"I'd be happy to assist you in your struggle," Roosevelt offered.
"We'd appreciate it, but between you and me, we aren't a very competent fighting force, even if you are a Ranger," Trudy pointed out, "We won't last long under a barrage of gunfire and dynamite, so see if you can recruit some townsfolk to join the fight."
Roosevelt nodded and left the saloon. In the back of the bar, another mysterious stranger heard the whole conversation. She got up, paid Trudy for her water, and left the saloon as well. Trudy looked at the payment, Legion currency, and placed them in her register.
Helen of Texas, Female Furmentarii Agent of Caesar.
Helen entered the trailer that once housed "Lone Wold Radio" and discarded her wastrel garb. She donned her Legionary explorers gear, a simple patchwork of armor made from pre-War sports equipment and a hood, and sat down. Setting her radio's frequency to the Legion's, she started to report.
"Come in Desert Fox," Helen said into the mic, "This is Helen of Troy speaking."
The voice of Vulpes Inculta came though, "Ah Helen, any news to report on the Chip?"
"Affirmative," Helen reported, "It is in the possession of an entourage led by a man in a checkered suit. His last known direction is southeast."
"We'll keep an eye out for him," Vulpes replied, "Me and my men are just finishing up out lottery here in Nipton. Head in his direction for the time being."
"Roger, Helen out."
Helen got up and gathered her weapons and gear. He placed numerous natural herbs, salves, and healing powders in a large duffel bag. Along with the bag, she collected her poison pouch and bladed weaponry, five throwing knives, her machete, and a throwing spear. She departed southeast towards the town of Nipton to meet up with Vulpes, even if he didn't get the target, it was always worth it to see how his lotteries turn out.