Someone's heading toward us.
Ain't hard to miss the campfire. Or the car.
No sense hiding then. Howdy, stranger.
I don't mean no harm. I'm a merchant.
Where's your brahmin cart?
Brahmin? You must be from out West. We don't use brahmin carts where I'm from. Traders
out of Dogtown haul our wares in dogcarts. Faster than them cows of yours, and good in
a fight too.
Then where's your dog cart?
Some bastard Luddite stole it yesterday. They don't cause trouble if you keep your pre-war
tech outta sight, but this one just knocked me right off the cart, and was on the move
before I even sat up.
Which way they heading?
Back the way I came, East toward Dogtown.
Dogtown?
What they call Denver. Was Legion territory last time I passed through. Legion gets their
mongrels there.
All we got in Dogtown is dogs anymore. Some of 'em can be tamed like my pack dogs, but
most is just feral mutants. And them pre-war cyberdogs are running the show in most neighborhoods.
When I was there, the locals said the dog packs killed all the brahmin long ago, ate
the cats, the rats, and the slower children. Dogtown certainly earns its name.
Angry beep.
What’s the matter with ol’ ED-NA?
ED-NA recently discovered she isn’t a fan of dogs.
Streets ain't fit for humans most nights. Happy to let the Legion take the wild ones.
I shoot as many as I see, and make a good living trading dog hide and jerky to the Luddites
out in these parts.
Dog jerky?
I tells the Luddites it's coyote meat Tastes the same to me.
I ain't sharing my campfire with some dog eater.
But if we don't eat them, they'll eat us.
Get along, or you're dinner for the first critter that scents your corpse.
You mean to shoot me for eatin' a dog?
Yes.
Alright, I'm moving. I'm moving'.
The Luddite that stole his cart. That's our android. Might still be on the road.
Android? What Android?
No time to explain.
Ma'am, I appreciate that you got me out of that ruckus with the Luddites yesterday, but
I ain't driving into pooch city after some mystery robot just because a pair of strangers
are in a hurry.
Alright, thanks for driving us this far. So, you were about to tell me about the time The
Vault Dweller fought the Super Mutant Master.
That’s right! I'll tell you while we walk.
Wait!
This better be one hell of a story.
A monument of ancient black stone rose from the graveyard of four million dead angels.
A cathedral to a dark god. A New God for a ruined world! A holy flame that would purify
humanity and restore the Earth!
Give me a break…
A single hero stood against a beast of unfathomable horror! Their companions had fallen in battle
against the minions of this eldritch abomination. One by one they sacrificed themselves so that
humanity might endure.
The Vault Dweller had fought through the wretched, deformed, demented servants of the mutant
Master, and emerged into the deepest chamber beneath the dread cathedral. Alone. The Vault
Dweller had a mission... They had a goal... They had a really big gun.
The Master had once been human, a man of science. A leader who sought to bring unity to the
world. But he had become something both more and less than human. Gifted and cursed with
untold mutations. It's body flowed through the halls of its subterranean lair.
It had a mind that could influence its mutant army from miles away. What such telepathic
power do to a human standing mere feet away is incomprehensible. The Vault Dweller endured
a psychic assault that would have crushed a lesser person-
-yet our hero staggered on, until confronted by the abysmal creature face to face!
You think you can destroy me!? Destroy! Me?
What happened next?
No one knows. The Vault Dweller didn't explain how they defeated the Master. Maybe brute
force-
-maybe they snuck in, and set off some sort of self-destruct system, and the Master never
even knew they were there.
Maybe the Vault Dweller was clever enough to spot a critical flaw in the Master's plan,
and convinced the miserable creature to kill itself.
Doesn't matter how. The Vault Dweller saved our little corner of the wasteland. And the
ingrates back at Vault 13 didn't even let 'em back inside.
That bastard Overseer felt that the Vault Dweller had spent too much time in the wild.
Would be a bad influence on all the little dwellers in the down under. Sent them back
out into the wasteland, permanently.
Hmph. Reminds me of some old song I heard. "Maybe the one who is waiting for you will
prove untrue." I hope that Overseer got his comeuppance eventually.
Yup. Some of the stories I've heard say he didn't have to wait too long, either.
But those were just rumors. Most of the stories say that The Vault Dweller left in peace,
and eventually others from the vault followed, and they founded a village up in the North.
I actually met a direct descendant of The Vault Dweller myself, about forty years ago.
A Chosen One on a quest to save their village.
Well ain't that something... 'Cause I met some tribal savage wearing a Vault 13 jumpsuit
about the same time. Called themselves "The Chosen One" too.
The hero that saved the wasteland from the Enclave.
Hero? That Chosen One was the meanest son of a bitch to ever walk the wasteland.
Why do you say that?
'Cuz the Chosen One... Killed... My... Pa'!