The winds of the Badlands whipped at the sands and rocks of the land. The air was just filled with the debris of the earth. The eerie wind almost whispering as it blew across the rocky out cropping. In the distance a silhouette protruded through the blanket of sand. New EDEN. The settlement of New EDEN stood in defiance of the barren and desolate landscape. A true testament to human tenacity. The great concrete walls standing strong against the wastes. Towers cornered the walls, and atop those towers were men armed and armored. They stood in defiance of those who would destroy and ransack the settlement. Combined together, New EDEN was a true refuge against desolation and destruction. Though it may be a refuge, New EDEN holds a dark secret and a connection to a great evil.



The pilgrimages to and from New EDEN from the surrounding towns almost always happened every day. New EDEN was the only place to get fresh produce and food, and so it fed the Appalachian Badlands. If anyone wanted to survive long they would have to either trade with the "Gardeners" of New EDEN or those traders who are franchised to the "Gardeners".

Sunday, 0730, June 2083. A caravan of pilgrims and traders are headed to New EDEN to do business. Among them are several hired arms, all strangers to each other. The caravan soon arrives to New EDEN, and as promised the caravan leader pays each of the hired guns 50 caps. Now with the job finished, these men are left with nothing to do but blow their hard earned caps.

Clive stepped through the gates of New EDEN, a body slung over his shoulder. He had been walking for about a full day. He was tired and the body wreeked of an odor most fowl and his power armor thudded against the ground as he walked. People stepped away from him as he walked along the streets. He was back to turn in a mark. The man was a serial killer. He would find a nice, pretty, young blonde. Then he would get close to her, after which, he would rpae and kill her. He would then continue to paint the walls of her home with her blood, leaving messages that hinted where he would be next. He obviously wanted to be caught. He thought he was smarter than everyone, but he had obviously never met Clive West.

Clive walked into the mansion of his contractor. He ignored all of the guards as they protested against his entry. Whe they tried to physically stop him, he simply punched both of them, knocking them unconcious. He continued into the man's office. It was still being cleaned of his daughter's blood. He had posted a bounty on the man because his daughter had been his latest, and final victim. As he entered, the man's face glowed. Clive stepped foreward and dropped the body on the floor and removed his helmet, holding it in his riht hand. "I got 'im. And my pay?" The man nodded handing him his 800 caps. He looked at him with his eyes beginning to fill with tears and said, "Thank you for bringing this man to justice. After he killed my daughter, I just didn't know what to do. And then I found you. I thank you. If you ever need anything, just come and see me and I will try and give you a good deal or find it. If you ever need a place to stay, my doors are open to you." Clive smiled. This was his favorite part of the job. The part where he got to see how happy he made his contractors.

Clive nodded. "And if you need me for anything, just send someone out. They'll be able to find me as long as I want to be found." He shook the man's hand and left the building, placing his helmet back on his head. He chuckled at the two guards as he left. He walked to his home in the poorer section of the town. Upon entering, he looked around at how empty it was. He had designed it in a similar way of the Brotherhood's base. He walked to his bed and sat down, removing his power armor, piece by piece. He walked over to his dresser and put on some pre-war clothes. He through on a jean jacket, blue jeans, a black t-shirt, and some black Converse high tops. He had made so much money that he often found himself asking why he lived in such a place. He stood and set his traps. He set up his shotgun to fire if anyone opened his door without realeasing the thread. There was a bear trap hidden in a small hole right at the entrance under a rug. He then walked over to his computer, and activated his turret. All that had cost him quite a bit of caps. Getting the money was much easier than finding and setting up the system.


This being done, he carefully left his house, locking the door on his way out. His lock was a very complicated one and not easy to crack. Only a master lockpicker would be able to pick it. With his caps in his pocket, he walked off to a bar to drown in his loneliness. Ever since he left the brotherhood, and since then he has been on hs own. He entered the bar, waving to the bartender. "The usual." The bartender half-smiled and turned to get him a bottle of liquor. When he recievd the bottle, he popped it open and took a long drink.

Jak was loitering around the poorer section of New Eden when something caught his eye. This something was a man in Power Armor. Jak gave a mischievous smile and followed this man to his home, being sure to keep out of sight and not being suspicious. "This guy has got to have some caps." Jak quietly said to himself.

When the man arrived at his house and went inside, Jak found somewhere to stay in wait for the man to return from inside the house. He started to doze when the house door creaked open and the man emerged from the house.

Jak waited until the man got completely out of sight and slid up to the door. He looked into the lock to size it up before producing a bobby pin. "Hmm, this lock.. It's gonna be difficult. I like difficult!" Jak said to himself. It took eleven bobby pins before he finally got the door unlocked. "Phew.. that was a tough one." he commented. Jak then opened the door, and looked for any traps. That's when the thread met his eye. He pulled out his combat knife and cut the thread, disarming the trap.

He then stepped in lightly, keeping sure to look for traps. He noticed the turret first and then an indention on the welcome mat as if hollow. There would be something under that mat's hollow floor, and he didn't want to find out. Jak slowly inched around it, trying to get to the turret's computer. As he arrived at the computer he couldn't help but laugh. This man had forgot to log out. Jak easily turned off the turret and stood up.

"Now.. Where are these caps?" He asked himself. His eyes drifted to a safe. "Of course..." He said making his way to it. "Perhaps this one won't take more that nine bobby pins?" He laughed. He cracked the safe within five bobby pins. He looked inside the safe. Caps, a pistol and a picture? Who was the picture of? It didn't concern him. He took a hand full of caps and shoved them in his pocket before shutting the door and leaving the house.

He then made his way to the local bar. Tonight, he was going to sleep in a bed with food in his belly. He walked in and sat beside a man with a jean jacket and black shirt up at the bar. He then ordered a nice drink and some food as well as a room. He looked over at the man beside him. "How has your day been."

Looking over at the new guy, Clive shrugged. "Same old song and dance for me. Went out and brought down another person for someone with more caps than he knows what to do with." He looked over the man sitting next to him. He just didn't feel right. There was something strange about him and he was going to find out what it was. Clive has a knack for getting the information that he wanted. "So what about you? Do anything interesting today?"

Jak took a drink of the beverage he got. Scotch, with a tinge of radiation for an added kick. "Not really, just trying to make living doing odd jobs here and there." Jak knew better than to tell any one his real profession. As an Assassin, he was to kill people silently and secretly... Although between marks he had to steal to live. Both ways puts caps on the table, albeit underhanded. He looked over at the guy.. he looked oddly familiar. "What's your name stranger?" He asked.

George Dunder, the local sheriff, walked into the bar about then. He was doing the rounds, making sure no one was being too rough with each other. He usaly didn't have to get between to people in an altercation. He just had to pull out his unique .44 caliber pistol and every one just got real quiet. "Gallows" always had that effect, and when it was loaded with the AP rounds he had found in a US Army base to the southwest even those who had power armor shut up. Of course, not too many people had power armor; usaly once in awhile a trader, battlefield scavengers, mercs lucky enough to kill a Brotherhood Knight or Enclave soldier, and those ex-Brotherhood and ex-Enclave.

Sheriff Dunder looked into the bar, the Drunkard's Folly. No one was fighting so Dunder had no buiseness here. Before he left though he saw that Clive was sitting at the bar. Dunder had passed by Clive's house just a few minutes ago. He hadn't seen anything wrong with the house, but he did see an extra pair of foot prints leading into and out of the house. Dunder always made it his buiseness to find out if someone new was in town.

Sheriff Dunder strode up to Clive at the bar. "His drink is on me," George said to the bartender, "so Clive, whose the person staying at your house?"

Clive listened to everything the man had to say, hanging on to each and every word. Still, something seemed strange about him. "The name's Clive. Clive West. Nice to meet ya...I don't think I got our name." At this point the sheriff had walked up asking about someone staying with him. "Well, thanks for the drink, George, but there isn't anyone staying with me...Oh I swear if anyone broke in again, I am going to find him and bust a cap in his ass. And I don't mean money." He shook his head. "You sure ya didn't just have the wrong place?"

"Nah, it was your place all right, walked by and saw a set of foot prints not belongin to you," Dunder replied, putting the caps on the table for the drink. The Bartender pocketed the caps, and set back to pouring drinks. Sheriff Dunder sat down on the bar stool, an old 55 gallon drum barrel, his back to the bar it's self. "Now, if I remeber right, your place is pretty locked up tight, any ideas who would be breaking into a place like yours?" George asked.

"Clive West, hmm? My name is Jak Enkou." He answered Clive's question... That name seemed immensely familiar. Then the sheriff came up and and they started to talk about Clive's house and that it's been broken in to... Oh Shit. Jak suddenly remembered the name on the turret's computer. Clive Owen.. This was the man who's house Jak broke into.

This revelation however did not show on Jak's face. He learned how keep a straight face long ago. Assassin's need to know these things. But footprints? Dammit, he forgot about those. Jak decided against standing up and walking out as that would be extremely suspicious. Jak instead decided to stay and eat. He continued to listen to the banter.

Clive's face seemed to swim with insanity. "Oh when I find the son of a bitch that broke in my place, I'm gonna rip out his throat and bathe in the bastard's blood." He obviously didn't take wel to people breaking into his house. "Of course... This all depends on what was taken.If it holds any sentimental value, I will do what I just said I would. If it was just cash, then who cares? I have enough. All the person had to do was ask." What clive said was true. He cared not for all the glamour that cash could get him. All he really wanted in life was to be happy. Unfortunately, he hadn't reache that goal yet.

Jak took a sip of his scotch. Now for some reason Jak felt bad for taking Clive's caps. It was just enough for a night at an Inn and some food though. He'd be alright. Then Clive said something about he would have gave caps to those if they would have asked. "You're a good man." Jak said after that comment. But, if he would have asked, where would the fun be in that? He always did like to things the difficult way. He was strange like that.

Jak shook his head. He always liked to be after a mark. Stealing for a living was only a back up plan. He liked the thrill of a hunt of a man who deserved it. It's been a while since the last mark.

"Well, if you don't want to press charges then I ca..." Sherif Dunder began saying, but mid sentance he was interupeted by bar tender Steely-eye Joe, who was half way to becomeing a goul. "HEY KEEP IT DOWN, THE GOOD DOCTOR IS ON," Steely-eye yelled as he turned up the radio.

To the badlands and New EDEN, I bid you a found hello, the man on the radio spoke in a deep baratone, smothe voice, This is your DJ speaking, The Good Doctor, with your daily dose of news, myth, and adivce. To the news, all you folks traveling to and fro from New EDEN, becarefull, a few caravans have gone missing down in the southeast, my reporst say that what ever is causing this is hiding in the sand whiped dunes of Devil's Lot, take care about that you here. Now as to the myth, it pertains to that same area as well, go figure hu, a few traders said they saw what appeared to be a giant roaming Devil's Lot, though I wouldn't bet my eye on it. My advice, don't head down that way unless you have to, and try to keep in low numbers. Now my segment is done, I bid you adue, now here is some Billie Holiday with I'll Be Seeing You.

Clive's ears tuned to the sound of the radio. When he heard about Devil'd Lot, he smiled. "Sorry Sheriff. Looks I've got some work to do." He downed the rest of his drink. "Thanks again, man." He patted the George's shoulder and slips the caps for his drink in the man's pocket. Looking over to Jak, he said, "Sorry, but I have business to attend to. I'm a regular here, so I'll be back eventually." He was about to turn, but then stopped and said in a solemn voice, "I know what's out there... That giant probably is no myth. I've dealt with three before. Super Mutant Behemoths is what they are. If I'm not back in a month's time, George, you can have what left at my place." he turned towards the door and walked outside.

"Good to hear, well see you when I see you Clive," George said as the man left the building. He turned to the man who was sitting next to Clive. He tipped his hat in a hello fasion. "I don't believe I've met you, names Sheriff Dunders," George said sticking his hand out to Jak.



As Clive headed towards the south gate of the city, he stumbled upon a man yelling out to a crowd. "I've got two hundred caps to the man who kills this giant in Devil's Lot, it killed my brother who was due into town two days ago, his caravan has yet to arrive, I want revenge on that thing that killed him," the man was in a frenzy. A few guys had volenteered, but they didn't look like they could handle them selves out side of the city. One man though did, he was equiped with a sniper rifle, a chinese assult rifles, and a bagfull of bottlecap mines. His attire was what looked like the arm of a T-51b power armor, and what seemed to be a mishmash of straps of leather and armor.
"I'll do it for 300, and I'll bring back it's head," the man with weapons said. The crowd quited down, as the man who lost his brother stepped forward. "
"What's your name?" the man asked.
"You can call me Yank," the man replied.

Jak nodded. "Nice to meet you Sheriff." He said shaking his hand. Then Jak started to think about the announcement over the radio and thinking over his chances with a giant. Jak thought it would be fun, and as he hadn't had a mark in a while, might as well.

Jak took the last drink of his scotch, and stood up. "Well, Sheriff. I got me a giant to slay. David and Goliath stories never get old." Jak laughed to himself as he walked the way Clive did.

Clive had no interest in the money. He just wanted to kill it before it could do any more harm. Clive heard someone taking about a pay, and someone called Yank offered to do it for one-hundred more than the starting offer. Clive stepped up and offered his own bargain. "I'll do it for free. If any of you," he said you as he looked at the man named Yank, "want to help me, then be my guest. I've killed three of these and I know what e are dealing with. None of you idiots have a clue." Shaking his head, he went to the man making the offer. "Rest assured that it's going to die. Keep your money. I don't want it." He turned and ran to his house, hoping to be able to take care of the behemoth before anyone got hurt. He charged in, stepping over his bear trap, and slamming the door. He put on all of his Outcast Power Armor and grabbed his Auto-Shotgun. He went to his secret stash of caps and grabbed every bit of caps he had there. It was a thousand caps. He then reactivated his turret and logged off of the computer. He went to the door and locked it as he walked out.

Jak listened and watched as Clive offered to do the job for free. Then he heard his offer for help, if you could call that an offer... Jak watched as he ran to his house.

"Well... I suppose it'll make up for me breaking into his house. Eh, why not? I don't have anything else planned." Jak said as he walked towards the gate to wait for Clive. He felt down at his sigh for his trusty combat knife feeling the cool handle. He then pulled back the collar of the shirt he was wearing to see the stealth suit under it. This was all Jak had, he carried on his person.

Jak then leaned up against the wall near the gate waiting for Clive to show up. "Heh, idiots don't have a clue. Probably." He laughed remembering what Cliver had said.

Yank's face turned into a scrowl, his offer had been bested, and he was not happy about it. The man had walked off too soon for Yank to confront him so he followed. The crowd was too think though and Yank soon lost sight of the man. "Fucking bastard, I'm going to... ," the last of the words was mumbled as Yank walked toward the souther gate. He was going intercept the man there before he left, since the south gate was the only way gate that exited towards Devil's lot.

Clive walked down to a nearby weapons store. Upon entering, he was greeted with the smell of freshly polished guns. He walked over to the owner. "I doubt you guys have one, but might you have a Fat Man?" The owner shook his head and said, "No, but we do have missile launchers." Clive nodded and laid his money on the table. "I'll take the one that's in best condition and five rockets." Nodding, the owner brought him his order and whie he was getting it, Clive swiped three frags. When the owner brought out his weapons, Clive left the store with his purchase. He had aquired a considerable amount of weight, but it didn't bother him. I'll pay him back later.

Clive held his shotgun in hand as walked towards the South Gate. The rocket launcher was on his back, unloaded. He noticed Jack leaning against the wall. "Hey there, Jack." Not waiting for a reply, he left through the city gates. He stopped just outside them to look at the wastelands. "Time to get to work!" He began walking towards Devil's Lot, determined on killing the Behemoth.

Yank followed, closing the distance quickly. "Hey you," Yank yelled at Clive who turned around in suprise to see a fist slam into his helmeted head, "YOU COST ME THREE HUNDRED CAPS!" Yank stepped back. "I really don't appreciate that," he said, "now this is how it's going to go, your going to give me one hundred and fifty caps, and I'll lead you to Devils lot, because with out me, you just going to get your self killed."