https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BujG07IRVBI

Eyes lit up by a savage hunger at the thought of finding something lost in the depths of the world, you couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to meet this mysterious creature. The satisfaction that would be gained in defeating a game boss. As well as the mystery factor, tugged at your bones as you said, "after several miles switch tracks, and go right."

Tessa’s pitch-black eyes staring at you hypnotically as she tried to read your mind, before she replied, "very well, child, but you’ll first need to check in on our dear leader. She'll want to know that we’ll be going deeper underground." A conversation you didn't exactly look forward to having, considering you the way Cassidy would always weigh you on a scale, always wondering if you were necessary. Not to mention, you had a way of always acting the fool around her.

Still, you nodded your head, determined to push on with your quest, when you saw a small hairless pink shape dart across the train tracks, its frail ratlike body outlined by the brilliant white lights that shone out into oblivion, when it froze still, tiny paws held up to its waist, snout sniffing the air, when it was crushed underneath. Big Bastard rumbling forward like a massive juggernaut of steel that both horrified, and filled you with awe as blood sprayed onto the glass screens.

Tessa shaking her head sadly from side to side. "Poor fool."

Numb at its sudden demise which seemed to be the one constant of this harsh wasteland, you couldn't help thinking that there had to be more to existence than just mere survival, more to the wasteland than the idea that you could live or die at any moment, but you supposed that’s why you enjoyed the game so much. Because at any given moment everything could come to an abrupt end, and so it forced you to really live.

Heading to the back of the train car as Tessa called out of over her shoulder. “Could you also grab me a bite to eat, dearie,” you couldn’t help chuckling to yourself at being friends with a real life ghoul. At least you thought you were friends, since you didn't have very many of those back in the real world, before you swung open the thick metal door that lead in between carriages, and saw a practically naked Bull in nothing but a grimy white apron and jeans, sweating over a large cookpot, his bulging hairy arms hiding Disney muscles, while Demarco and Jernald stood staring down rifle barrels. The pair of them it seems, cleaning and testing weapons.

Meanwhile their fearless leader Cassidy, stood bent over a desk, wearing a long red overcoat as she studied a map that outlined the mountains, when she looked up at you, her green eyes hinting at nothing. Loraq and Wren, the only ones missing from this, get together. "Well? Is there a reason you are not at your post?"

Eyes unable to hold her stare for long, you blushed a little, again feeling out of your depth, before you shrugged uncomfortably, your mind wandering to thoughts of whether or not she had served with the gunners, talon company or the brotherhood, given her often dour demeanor when she finally snapped, "well! Out with it already!"

Eventually able to find your tongue again, you replied, "Tessa, said to tell you we'll be heading into Broken Dream soon."

Demarco, who had been staring down the barrel of a shotgun, all but spitting out a dummy, his dark eyes coming alive as he grinned, "Well fuck me! But I never thought I would get a chance at that place. Friend of mine once told me that Broken Dream was a city built underground long ago. Government fucks probably thought to protect themselves, like in those vaults, but the silly fuckers didn't count on getting buried alive. Course, it was called The American Dream back then," he finished with a derisive snort of amusement.

Bull’s granite-like face smirking, "You don't have any friends," as he continued to stir what you hoped was chicken, but looked to be a broth of meat and bones,

Face flushed a deep red as the short golden man's hands flew to rest on the large pommel of his belt knife, Bull, half glanced up from his cooking with dark ominous eyes, when Demarco drew his arm away, and muttered defensively. "I've got friends, it just ain't any of you fuckers. Anyway, I want fucking in. If we go after that monster I want to be there. I'll stick a bullet right between its eyes."

Cassidy's frown if possible deeping further as she pressed a finger to the map. "It's not exactly a shortcut, but it might save us a few days, that is if we don't get ourselves killed first. You had best go find Wren and Loraq, I sent them to take stock of our new inventory. Load up on as much ammunition as you can, because from here on out we travel as light as possible in case we need to move fast.

(Your inventory has now been limited to 15 items. It is essential that you have 1 pistol, knife, and rifle equipped. Every 10 bullets counts as 1 item. Every 3 chems counts as 1 item. The rest is up to you.)

Eager to be away from those hard green eyes that always seemed to look right through you, you quickly skipped away, when you paused in front of Jernald's suit of power armor that he had left in the corner. Those dark empty eye sockets like two black pits of despair as you took in its rusted metal, battle scars, and bullet holes. This surprisingly being your first opportunity to study it up close.

One of the earlier T-45 models deployed primarily in the military, it was the size of an ogre or perhaps an orc with its head almost touching the ceiling, its rusted grey steel aged with time, and thick arms strong enough to break boulders.

Mind wandering again to the first time you had encountered such a suit, it had been when Sarah Lyons had attempted to rescue you from super mutants, a battle that you had had well in hand.

Smiling fondly at the memory of showing up to save her ass, you continued on, your feet enjoying the vibrating motion beneath you as they traveled over rugged terrain. Listened to the hiss of steam as it was released, and the clatter of steel on steel, before opening up the next compartment. Loraq and Wren, taking weapons from a large pile of junk, and stacking them into neat orderly rows with open crates, and weapon racks. The short petite blonde, looking up at you with intense blue eyes, and a face chiseled from ice. "Shouldn't you be making sure we don't get lost?"

Loraq, gazing out the side window with a look of wonder on his face as they passed through tunnels full of glowing green fungi, assault rifle forgotten in his arms as you replied, "I need some better gear."

Wren’s dismissive wave, pointing to the large stockpile of guns and armor on weapon racks, and boxes of ammunition that had been placed to one side. "Be at it, navigator."

Arsenal

Rations - Restores 2 HP.

Grenades - Throwing skill required to use properly.

.32 Pistol - Small guns skill required to use properly.

10mm Pistol - Small guns skill required to use properly.

Hunting rifle - Small guns skill required to use properly.

Assault rifle - Small guns skill required to use properly.

Combat Knife - Melee skill required to use properly.

Baseball Bat - Melee skill required to use properly.

Raider Armor - 50 Caps. +2 defense.

Ammo crates - load up on munitions for your weapons.

Down on one knee before a treasure trove of weaponry, you tried to properly organize your thoughts into what you would need for a boss battle? Assuming there was a boss at the end of this mission, and geared yourself up. The armor here, a bit loose, and clearly meant for a much bigger man than yourself as you loaded a magazine into your pistol, and stuffed it into the front of your pants. A part of you wishing for a holster, when the train shook beneath you, brakes squealing with a horrible wailing sound, and flung you through the air to crash head first against the wall.

The pain and fire that scored it's way down your left side, forcing you to look down to see a knife planted in your thigh.

(Doctor Skill 20% or First Aid Skill 20%.)

But as before you knew exactly what you had to do, and quickly staunch the bloody wound, before treating it.

-3 HP.

(No Skill.)

With no way to treat it right now, you pulled the weapon free, and wrapped your leg up tightly, feeling a little lightheaded and woozy.

-5 HP.

Your heart beating like a hammer as you blinked through teary eyes, and saw a wide crack in the glass window, cold air seeping inside. The foul stench of desiccation filling your lungs as alarm bells rung in your mind.

+20 rads.

The effort of breathing through the pain and struggling back up to your feet, making you very much aware that you couldn't see either Wren or Loraq. The familiar pulsating fear that washed over you, almost overwhelming as harsh guttural sounds came from outside, your mind twisted by fear, when you found them both pinned beneath a pile of crates at the back of the car, blood pooling all around them. Wren's face, pale and bloody, while Loraq lay unconscious a few paces away, small pieces of glass embedded in his chest, and face. It seemed that luck had only saved you from serious injury, when you caught movement out from the corner of your eye. Lithe pale bodies flowing on all fours across the surface of the rocky as you pulled out your pistol, checked to see if it was damaged, and took aim.

(Small Guns Skill 50% or Perception 6.)

The almost human face that attempted to squeeze itself through the opening, blasted backwards in a spray of blood as more ferals piled on from behind, instinct forcing you to be patient and wait for each head to pop into view, before blasting grey matter across the train, yellow eyes and teeth snarling as they tried to claw at you. The stench of blood thick in the air, drawing more and more as you kept firing, heart in your throat, till finally the last body dropped.

-18 bullets.

(Melee Skill 50% or Strength 6.)

The almost human face that attempted to squeeze itself through the opening, stabbed in it’s yellow hate filled eye socket, it's eyeball popping like a water balloon as more ferals piled on from behind, instinct forcing you to be patient and wait for each head to pop into view, before thrusting your blade, yellow eyes and teeth snarling as they tried to claw at you. The stench of blood in the air, drawing more and more, till finally the last body dropped.

(Unarmed Skill 50% or Strength 6.)

The almost human face that attempted to squeeze itself through the opening, punched backwards, knuckles breaking through bone and peeling off flesh as more ferals piled on from behind, instinct forcing you to be patient and wait for each head to pop into view, before snapping their necks with a savage twist, yellow eyes and teeth snarling as they tried to claw at you. The stench of blood thick in the air, till finally the last body dropped.

(No applicable Skills.)

In a frenzy of fear, you fired at the almost human face that attempted to squeeze itself through the opening, and kept firing, your heart thumping in your chest. The empty click of the gun, forcing you to draw your knife, and hack wildly, your fear taking over as yellow eyes stared hungrily at you, and slavering jaws snapped shut. The stench of blood thick in the air as you felt cuts to your arms, till finally the last body fell.

-3 HP.

-28 bullets. (For each bullet you're unable to fire, take down an additional health point.)

Breathing heavily as you tried to slow down your racing heart, you moved towards Loraq and Wren, body still aching, and blood still dripping down your thigh again as you knelt down beside them.

Wren's sharp blue eyes looking into yours. "Help the boy." Her words firm and brooking no argument as you got to work hauling crates off of his small frame, his arm tilted at an awkward angle, and face twisted up in pain as he suddenly awoke and screamed, his missing tongue releasing a harsh wheezing sound.

(Calm him down. Charisma 3.)

"Easy, easy, unless you want to draw more ferals towards us," your hand lightly resting against his spine, before you dragged him free. His teeth gritted together as Loraq cradled his broken arm, dark brown eyes staring at the glass with mounting horror.

(Stuff something into his mouth.)

Worried he might attract more ghouls, you stuffed a piece of cloth into his mouth, saw his eyes flash with anger, before you dragged him free. His teeth gritted together as Loraq cradled his broken arm, dark brown eyes staring at the glass with mounting horror.

Not waiting to see if he was okay, you then moved on to help Wren, her dirty blonde drenched with sweat, throat rasping for air as you helped free her as well. Her groan as the crates were lifted off her body, causing a whimper of pain as she dragged herself against the wall. Blood drenching the lower half of her waist as you stared at her, and growled, "why didn't you say anything?"

Her tight-lipped smile, almost half amused. "What difference would that have made? I won't ever be able to walk again, and Cass has no room for weak links."

Sputtering as you mind recoiled at the thought of letting her die here, you replied, "Then we'll get you fixed up."

Wren, for the first time giving you a real smile as she cupped your cheek in heavily calloused fingers. "You really aren't from around here are you? Most wasters I've run across would have slit my throat by now, and gone through my belongings."

The part of you that was terrified at losing anyone, forcing you to crack a joke. "Well, I can't do that, not with that kid always watching me." The attempted humor, causing Wren to chuckle, and Loraq to glare at you, when Cassidy stepped into the car. Took one glance around the carriage, noting the bloody stains and Wren's pale features, before commanding, "It's time to move, grab what you can, and make your way to the front of the train. We leave on foot."