#did cazador take them on road trips?

[thelikesoffinn]

This sounds suspiciously familiar...

I wonder why.

[whatacaitastrophe]

Everything Has Changed - Chapter 4

Previous Chapter

Chapter Song Inspiration: "After Midnight" - Dorothy

Chapter Warnings: Canon typical violence, blood drinking.

Spotify Playlist: Here

Author Notes: Thank you all so much for reading, reblogging, liking, and commenting on this fic (and the first one)! If you are interested in supporting me in other ways, I have a Ko-Fi link. ya girl has bills to pay and a dog to feed, and every little bit helps <3

Chapter 4: Kerosene Eyes

“Szarlnaxi coven? I thought you’d all died out after the final confrontation with Isteval.” Astarion questioned in disbelief. He was well aware of the Szarlnaxi coven and their history, as Cazador had instructed Astarionan and his siblings to kill anyone associated with Voltan Szarlnaxi, an ousted count from Tethyr turned local crime lord, on sight. The Sharran worshippers began consuming the blood of Baldur’s Gate’s lowest citizens while still human, posing a threat to Cazador and his own coven, threatening to expose them. Astarion couldn’t confirm (Cazador never would have deigned to tell him), but he was fairly certain the reason the agents from Tethyr hunting Voltan Szarnaxi found him to begin with were aided by Cazador himself. 

When Szarnaxi perished, his followers prayed to Shar as they consumed his blood. As a reward for their devotion, the Lady of Darkness turned them into vampires. Astarion and his siblings had been the ones to force the new coven of vampires out of Baldur’s Gate and retreat to what became their new homebase at Dragonspear Castle. Astarion hadn't heard anything about the Szarnaxi coven again until eight years ago, 1485 DR, when Cazador uncharacteristically declared they were having a celebration, because the coven finally met their end thanks to Sir Isteval, a paladin from Cormyr, who took them on twice in the same year and won both times. Of course, Cazador’s idea of a “celebration” was a night free of torture and cats for supper instead of the usual, but that had been good enough for Astarion and his siblings.

It was the only reason Astarion agreed to camp outside the gates of Dragonspear Castle to begin with: believing the greatest threat from the castle on the High Moor had gone extinct. 

Once Astarion’s vision adjusted to the change in lighting, he got a good look at their visitor.  Astarion recognized the vampire in front of him as one of the ones Cazador had ordered Astarion and his siblings to be removed from Baldur’s Gate after their numbers started growing. He couldn’t remember the man’s name, but it didn’t matter. 

“You thought that bastard from Cormyr managed to murder us all?” The other vampire sneered, releasing his hand from Fallon’s mouth to wrap an arm around her middle as his spell wore off. “Only the weak fell. The rest of us just knew where to hide until the dust settled.”

“So you’re a bunch of cowards, then. Duly noted.” Fallon quipped, and Astarion could have killed Fallon himself for goading a vampire with a blade to her neck, though he supposed it did remind him of their first meeting.

The vampire didn’t take kindly to her jab, either, and he expressed as much by pressing the blade against her throat just enough that Fallon whimpered in pain. Rage began to simmer in Astarion’s blood, and one look at Gale told him the other man felt the same way he did: this vampire was as good as dead the second Fallon was free from harm. Oh, how Astarion wished that he and Gale still shared a connection via their tadpoles– it made silently planning a coordinated attack so much easier. 

“You’ve yet to answer my question, spawn of Cazador. What are you doing here?” their visitor demanded. 

Astarion raised his free hand in a show of peace, but wasn’t foolish enough to let go of his dagger. “We’re just passing through,” Astarion replied, his voice much calmer than he felt. “Just three friends who stopped to make camp for the night on the road to Waterdeep from Baldur’s Gate.” 

“Quite a trip to make on foot, especially this time of year. Why not use a portal?”

“I’m afraid that’s my fault,” Gale spoke up with an awkward wave. “Ordinary human here, portals upset the stomach. Now why don’t you release our friend and proper introductions can be made.” 

When talking about journeying to Waterdeep, Fallon and Astarion had considered a portal spell. The trouble was that mages that not only knew how, but were strong enough to conjure one reliably few and far between. Gale had been the only person with that kind of magical prowess they knew, and they certainly couldn’t ask him before  Mystra dropped him on their doorstep, completely stripped of his magical powers, and that was the end of that discussion. As far as excuses went, the one Gale gave the Szarlnaxi vampire was probably also true, albeit untested. 

Their intruder’s body language relaxed only slightly, indicating he believed Gale’s story, but Astarion wouldn’t be lowering his defenses until there was no longer a blade pressed to his lover’s neck. “What’s in Waterdeep?” the vampire asked. 

“I believe that answer also lies with me,” Gale continued. “I originally hail from Waterdeep and my– my mother passed away. My dear friends agreed to act as emotional support and accompany me as I travel there to sort through her affairs.” 

Astarion had to hand it to Gale, the pain in the other man’s voice sounded genuine. If Gale learned to play an instrument, he would probably be a hell of a bard. The vampire looked to Astarion in confirmation, and he nodded silently. “You’re pretty far from home, spawn, does daddy know you’re out and about?” The other vampire asked. 

“Gods, you ask a lot of questions,” Fallon sighed in annoyance. “Cazador is dead. We killed him ages ago. Are you satisfied?” 

Astarion had to work overtime to keep his features as neutral as possible. If they survived this night, he really would consider killing Fallon himself. He knew from traveling with her in the past that in the face of danger that Fallon tended to abide by the code of “strike before you can be struck, and ask questions later,” and often ran headfirst into a battle without really thinking anything through; but this was a new level of recklessness, even for her. Especially without Shadowheart on standby to patch them up. He’d once told Fallon that the greatest threat to a vampire was not the sun, or a wooden stake, but another vampire; and she’d just handed this particular one all the ammunition he needed. 

“Well, well, well, isn’t that interesting?” The rival vampire crooned, as he stared at Astarion. “You should have made sure to warn your consort about our history before wandering into our territory. Cazador was the only thing keeping you all alive.” With his free hand, the vampire reached up and yanked on Fallon’s hair, causing her to gasp in pain. Astarion’s rage came to a boil the moment the stranger pressed his face to Fallon’s neck, right above the old puncture wounds on Fallon’s neck from where Astarion usually bit her. “She smells so sweet, I can see why you picked this one. I think I’ll have a taste before I kill you all.”

Before he could open his mouth to take a bite, the sound of an arrow soaring through the air broke through the clearing, and found its mark in the vampire’s shoulder blade. He cried out in pain, lowering his blade from Fallon’s neck and staggering backward. The holding spell wore off, and Fallon quickly whirled around with her blade, decapitating her captor in one clean swing. 

Immediately it became clear why the Szarlnaxi vampire was asking so many questions, and biding his time: he’d been the distraction. The second his head separated from his body, four other vampires appeared, previously hidden by an invisibility spell cast upon them by their now dead leader. Gale swore loudly, readying his sword as one of them launched at him, and Astarion could only pray his training with Fallon stuck. Astarion briefly looked around to see if their savior had shown themself, but before he could truly investigate he found himself dodging a fire bolt shot at him by the vampire closest to him. The flame singed his sleeve as it flew by, and Astarion ran at his attacker, dagger ready to strike. 

The blade found its target, stabbing the rival vampire right in the side, and Astarion drove the blade in deep before dragging it across his gut, splitting him open as he cried out in pain. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other two vampires head for Fallon, one head on and the other coming at her from behind. “Fallon, behind you!” Astarion yelled, but their mystery savior seemed to already be on the case, for another arrow shot through the trees, this time piercing Fallon’s attacker in the back of the neck and going almost cleanly through, causing the vampire to collapse to his knees as he gargled and choked on his own blood. 

There was no time to breathe a sigh of relief, though, because Astarion’s opponent may have been injured, but he wasn’t out. He had just enough energy it seemed to cast a Thunderwave spell that sent Astarion hurtling backwards, gasping for air as he landed flat on his back, eyes closed as he winced in pain. A shadow appeared over his figure, blocking him from the firelight of the campfire, and as Astarion rolled over to try and stand, he saw their boots first. They were smaller than any man’s, or even Fallon’s, and for when he looked up in confusion he was met with the golden eyes of a gray skinned tiefling, beaming at him. 

“I suppose after this we’ll be even after all the times you saved my life, right?” She declared, extending him a hand, and Astarion’s expression changed from confusion, to elated surprise.

“Arabella?” 

“Nice to see you again, Astarion. Let’s finish these bastards off, so we can have a proper reunion, yeah?” 

The young tiefling tore off after the vampire who’d been assaulting Astarion, so Astarion picked up his dagger and ran to help Gale. He was doing fine keeping his own attacker at bay, and seemed to have avoided taking any major blows, but Gale also hadn’t managed to injure the vampire, either. “IGNIS!” Astarion shouted, aiming for the offending vampire, a pleased noise leaving his mouth when the bolt of fire hit its target. The vampire staggered, giving Gale a moment to swing his sword around and lacerate his arm. 

“Is that Arabella?” Gale asked Astarion in surprise. 

“Sure is.” Astarion answered proudly as he grabbed the back of the burning vampire’s neck with a wince, and drove his dagger into his shoulder before kicking him backwards onto the ground. The sounds of blades and spells slowly died as the last of the vampires fell to the ground, and Astarion looked around wildly for Fallon, praying she was still standing. 

The elf was intact, and on her knees on the ground with Arabella, tears streaming from both of their eyes as they embraced tightly. Astarion started to walk towards the two of them, but Gale grabbed his arm gently and shook his head. “Give them a moment.” he said softly. Astarion glared at Gale, but did as he was told, annoyed with himself that Gale still knew Fallon so well as to know to give her this moment with their friend. 

During her brief residency in their camp, Arabella and Fallon bonded in the way sisters do, and when the young tiefling left to strike out on her own and find her own way in the world, it broke Fallon’s heart. Astarion remembered the day Arabella left: just after they’d entered Rivington, the tiefling girl left in the night, leaving only a note behind, citing that a goodbye would have been too hard. They ran into her one other time, a few months later, but to Astarion’s knowledge, no one had heard from her since. 

“Gods, look at you! You’re all grown up!” Fallon exclaimed, pulling back from Arabella, placing her bloody hands on the girl’s shoulders. It had only been two and a half years since they last saw Arabella, but she was definitely no longer the child they’d seen before. Astarion had assumed she was eleven or twelve when they met her, and a full fledged teenager stood before them now. Her hair was darker, more ginger than it used to be, and she had a turquoise, wavy tattoo covering her left eye and spiraling down her neck (it reminded Astarion slightly of Halsin’s), and she had a couple of piercings now as well. “What the hells are you doing out here?” Fallon asked her. She turned around to look at Gale and Astarion. “Look! Arabella is here!” Fallon wiped tears from her eyes, but when she raised her arm to wave them over, she visibly winced. It was at that moment Astarion realized the blood on Fallon’s hands were not just from the vampires who attacked her, but also her own. He could smell it now that he drew closer to her, and his eyes immediately fell to the source: her shirt had been torn open and a long, bleeding gash leaked blood across her abdomen. 

“Shit.” He rushed over to Fallon and dropped to his knees beside her. “Where are the healing potions, darling, I’ll go grab one.” “Astarion, I’m fine.” Fallon argued. “You are not fine,” His nostrils flared. “We could have avoided this whole gods damned battle if you had just kept your mouth shut, and now you’re fucking bleeding out, don’t tell me you’re fine.” Fear filled his body as his temper rose, and he knew it was the only reason he lashed out at her. Though as far as Astarion was concerned, yelling at Fallon for starting a fight she couldn’t finish, and getting hurt in the process, felt like a pretty good reason to yell at her. 

“Astarion, calm down. Yelling at her isn’t going to fix it,” Arabella scolded him and he stared at the young tiefling in shock for talking back to him. In fact, the way Arabella had spoken to him reminded him of Fallon. “Just give me a moment. I know a fair bit of healing magic now. Fallon, lay back for me, yeah?”

Astarion instinctively reached for Fallon, helping her ease herself onto her back. He may have been angry with her, but the sooner she was healed, the less guilty Astarion would feel for yelling at her in the first place. Gale must have noticed Fallon was injured at the same moment Astarion did, and as he appeared on Fallon’s other side with a healing potion in hand. “This should help.”  

Fallon nodded in thanks, drinking the potion quickly and wincing as she tossed the bottle aside. “Gods, I’d forgotten how foul those things taste,” she looked over at Astarion and took his hand. “I’m sorry for starting a fight, my love.” 

“You scared me, Fallon,” Astarion sighed, squeezing her hand as the healing glow from Arabella’s magic hovered over Fallon’s skin. “You can’t just go mouthing off to everyone who annoys you like you used to. It’s just the three of us now, and if it weren’t for Arabella, we’d probably all be dead.” 

“Thank you, by the way, since I don’t think any of us have said it yet.” Gale chimed in, smiling softly at Arabella. “It truly is lovely to see you, and not just because you saved our hides. I’m inclined to echo Fallon’s question: what are you doing out here?” 

“Oh, I’ve been tracking the Szarlnaxis for a while now,” The tiefling explained as casually as though she’d told them what she had for breakfast. “I’d heard a rumor they were keen to come back to Baldur’s Gate, and I think we’ve all seen enough without vampires running amuck unchecked, so I decided to go after them.”

“On your own?” Astarion asked in surprise. 

“Well, yes. I’ve learned that I’m actually quite powerful– taking on enemies on my own isn’t exactly difficult these days.” She shrugged. 

Astarion remembered the day they ran into her in the City Sewers, alone and surrounded by multiple dead bodies of men three times her size. At the time, she’d only been on her own for a few months at best, so Astarion had no doubt that the tiefling was not embellishing the extent of her powers two years later. Gale let out a low whistle. “That’s quite a bit of power, then. Do be careful with it, Arabella.”

The tiefling nodded in understanding. “I am, I promise. Sometimes I prefer shooting things with a bow and arrow more than magic anyhow.” “And I am certainly grateful for that.” Fallon laughed, wincing at the pain the action caused her. The wound across her abdomen was smaller now, and it was no longer bleeding. Arabella’s magic faded and dusted off her hands. 

“That should set you right. Though you should probably just rest tomorrow. I’ll stay with you all until you move out of this territory, just in case. I’ve got my own tent and everything, so no need to double up somewhere on my account.” 

The next hour or so was uneventful– Arabella quietly set up her tent while Astarion and Gale helped Fallon back to her tent and put her to bed, and soon after, Arabella bid them both goodnight as well. Astarion and Gale sat in silence around the fire for a long time, staring into the flames and completely lost in their own thoughts. So much so that when Gale finally spoke, Astarion jumped. 

“I’ve been thinking– sorry–” He apologized when Astarion jumped. “But I’ve been thinking about this situation we find ourselves in…and though you and I don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things, I think we can both agree that Fallon’s safety is both our priority.” 

Astarion simply nodded in agreement, allowing Gale to continue. “I know you feed on her, but not every day, and on the days she doesn’t sate you, you hunt animals in the forest. Like you used to,” Astarion looked at Gale with interest. Was this going where he thought it was going? “I know in the past I’ve been…closed off to the idea of you biting me, but that was also as much for your sake as it was mine. When The Netherese Weave was lodged in my chest, I can’t imagine my blood would have tasted very good anyway…but now that it’s out and I’m well– normal again, I’d like to be of some other use than just cooking and washing the dishes. You may have guessed I volunteer for those duties not only because I don’t mind it, but also because I find myself feeling like a bit of a burden on this journey.” 

“Gods, you can never say anything outright, can you? Spit it out, Gale.” Astarion sighed impatiently. 

Gale huffed. “I was getting to it. We got lucky that Arabella showed up when she did. It won’t happen twice. Therefore, I would like to offer the use of my veins to you. I know you’re stronger when you feed on humans instead of animals, and the stronger you are, the easier it will be for us both to protect Fallon.” 

Apparently this evening was just going to be full of surprises. Astarion stared at Gale. “Are– are you sure?” 

“I wouldn’t be offering if I wasn’t. You can’t feed on her all the time, and I want to help. Honestly it kind of feels like it’s the least I can do.” Gale confirmed. “When was the last time you ate? You can even feed on me now, if you like.”

Astarion’s stomach gurgled at the thought. “It has been a day or two,” He mused, considering Gale’s offer. “Well, alright. If you’re sure.” Astarion stood up and moved to sit next to Gale, but stopped when the other man shifted so he was laying on his back. “Gale…what are you doing?” Astarion asked, amusement creeping onto his face. 

“I–you have to bite my neck, don’t you? That’s where you always bit Fallon, even before the two of you were, erm, intimate. I figured it’d be easier on you if I lay down.” Gale explained nervously. 

“Oh, you’re too adorable, sit up.” Astarion chuckled. “I can bite your arm, darling. That way you can hide it with your sleeve, if this is to remain our little secret.” 

“Do– do you want it to be a secret?” Gale asked. 

“I mean, I don’t care, but Fallon will probably be offended that we think she can’t look after herself and that she needs protecting, so…you tell me.” Astarion gave him a pointed look, almost daring Gale to disagree with him. They both knew Fallon well enough to know Astarion was right. 

“Fair enough.” Gale conceded, rolling up his sleeve. “What do I do, just…tap your arm or something when I’m ready for you to stop?” 

“That’s what Fallon does.” 

“Well, alright. Get on with it then.” Gale sighed, offering Astarion his forearm. 

“I promise to be gentle.” Astarion teased, delicately taking Gale’s forearm in his hands. He gave Gale one last look, one final chance to change his mind, and when Gale remained silent, Astarion leaned forward and bit down near the crook of Gale’s elbow, the only sound in camp was Gale’s sharp gasp of pain when Astarion’s teeth broke his skin. 

A long time ago, Fallon and Astarion joked about what they thought the others in their camp would taste like. Fallon had declared that Lae’zel probably tasted like an exotic, imported liquor with a high alcohol content that packed a punch, and Shadowheart and Wyll probably tasted similar to the red wines they’d favored while traveling. Gale, though, Astarion had predicted that Gale would taste like a good brandy, perfectly aged with just the right amount of spice. It pleased him to confirm that his assumption was correct, and the tiniest noise of approval escaped the vampire’s mouth as he drank from Gale. Except, there was something else in Gale’s blood, too. Something Astarion hadn’t been expecting, and something he was certain Gale had no idea was there. 

A minute or so later, Gale tapped Astarion’s knee and the vampire immediately released Gale’s arm from his mouth. Astarion licked the wound as he pulled away (he couldn’t help himself), and wiped his mouth as he looked at Gale curiously. “Well, how was I?” Gale asked. “Admittedly, I have been wondering what I taste like since I overheard that conversation with you and Fallon ages ago–” “Gale– didn’t Mystra take all of your magic?” 

Gale stopped speaking for a moment and frowned. “She– she did. Though I don’t know why you would bring that up now, it seems rather cruel after what I’ve just done for you–”

“No, Gale, shut up. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I– I don’t think she did. There’s magic in your blood. I tasted it.”

Chapter List

[incorrect-kotor-quotes]

I just found your New Vegas posts, and I sense a lot of hostility towards Lonesome road. Why?

The core problem with Lonesome Road is that it is, and I don’t say this lightly, the kind of writing I would expect from Bethesda.

Everything happens because the plot says so regardless of whether it makes any sense for the player to do, or in-universe. It tries to tell me how I feel, chastises me for decisions I did not make, and pokes holes in the worldbuilding. The whole narrative and its message rely on too many contrivances to make sense.

“This is your road. When you come, you’ll walk it alone.” The first area gave me a robot companion who follows me for the majority of the DLC and whom I regularly speak to… Wait, was that a pun about ED-E not having legs? I walk, but he floats?

Also, why can’t I bring companions to the Divide? In Dead Money and Old World Blues the Courier was kidnapped, then in Honest Hearts you travel as an employee of a caravan to the new location and they only have one opening. For Lonesome Road, you don’t bring backup because the plot says you don’t. That’s the justification of a lot of the DLC. Everything happens because that’s what happens.

“You had the option to turn back at any time, your refusal to do so put everyone at risk.” Bullshit, Ulysses had access to functional ICBMs and could probably have gone to get the components he needed if pressed. There are dozens of warheads lying around and he knows where the detonator is. Plus, he threatened that he would destroy the Mojave anyway, I wasn’t going to take that lightly and wouldn’t assume he was bluffing.

Even when I wasn’t aware Ulysses wanted components from ED-E, I knew he was tracking me through the robot (and also broadcasting annoying dialogue at me) so I would’ve left ED-E and gone on alone if that was an option. The game wouldn’t let me, because the plot said I had to bring him.

“The destruction around you is your fault.” I (supposedly) destroyed the Divide by accident. The guilt trip rings a little hollow coming from Ulysses, who wiped out New Canaan on purpose. He also nearly wrecked the entire wasteland by releasing the Think Tank and directed Elijah to the Sierra Madre, all of which are messes I had to clean up. Also, I’ve probably killed more people deliberately than I did at the Divide, I didn’t regret those, I’m not going to regret this.

“Ulysses will nuke the NCR if you don’t stop him.” I’m a Wild Card player who’s planning to transform New Vegas into high-tech development center by empowering the Followers of the Apocalypse with Enclave/Big Empty/Sierra Madre tech rather than continue Mr. House’s tourist economy. I don’t hate NCR, but cutting off their biggest supply line so they can’t invade would be doing me a favor, though I stopped the launch anyway because I want there to be less radiation in the world. Ulysses’ plan is based on my good standing with the NCR, and there’s no way to make it clear I’m not working for them, I’m working against the Legion.

“You should feel bad for your character’s role in destroying the society in the Divide.” What society? I couldn’t find any evidence of people living here prior to the nuclear detonations, only the Marked Men, who are all NCR or Legion soldiers, no locals among them. One of the ranger logs mentions a tribal society, that’s it. The only records were from before the war. The Tunnelers might be mutated humans who lived there, but it’s not clear, I thought they were mutant humanoid reptiles like the Lakelurks. Ulysses hates me for destroying a fledgling nation, one that was supposedly the hope of the wasteland, but I know nothing about it and my character doesn’t even remember. He just made up a complicated backstory about how important the Courier and the Divide were to each other, putting him somewhere on the intellectual level of Fantastic.

I’m serious. Please explain to me how “Before you… this is the edge of the Divide. Ahead lies your work, the history you burned in the earth. What you brought to the people here.” and “I read numbers. Sometimes I make up little stories in my head about what the numbers mean.” don’t convey similarly warped interpretations of reality.

“The Tunnelers are an imminent threat to the Mojave, even tougher than Deathclaws.” No, they aren’t. Maybe I’m just that unstoppable, but the Tunnelers were never a serious threat. As for being tougher than Deathclaws, the game mechanics make it clear they aren’t. Deathclaws can tank several hits from the toughest Tunnelers, whom they can easily one-shot at higher levels. The Tunnelers only killed a Deathclaw in a scripted event. And they definitely aren’t any worse than Cazadores. Those things actually can fight Deathclaws, I tested that out at the Thorn.

“The Divide will tear at you.” In Lonesome Road I had plenty of anti-rad drugs, could kill Rawr in two shots, and viewed the Marked Men more as walking sacks of cash than serious threats to the point I took it on at Level 2, making trips between the Divide and the Gun Runners to sell all the loot. The only part that gave me any trouble was that Deathclaw spawning outside a trailer after I entered it. I still killed it.

The Sierra Madre was worse, and developed more effectively from a gameplay perspective. I managed with the right perks and skills, but between the toxic cloud, invincible holograms, shielded speakers, the Ghost People’s resurrection ability, and the crushing weight of those gold bars, Dead Money was full of obstacles which could not be easily circumvented. Where LR tries and fails to convey a feeling of isolation because you have a friendly companion, DM punctuates its loneliness by forcing you to work with allies who would probably kill you if they could, and might try later. Y’all want challenge and danger until you get it.

“You have to sacrifice ED-E to stop the missiles. Can you bear killing him?” I absolutely can. ED-E is a copy of the Mojave ED-E, and the ending slides make it clear the Divide version transmitted all relevant data to the Mojave, something I expected to happen, so I stopped the missiles while losing nothing. There are no negative consequences for me. He’s fine.

“Stories spread of the battle between the two Couriers.” Told by who? Literally no one saw the fight and lived except the Courier. No one goes to the Divide, the Marked Men ain’t exactly chatty. Were there recording devices? Was ED-E transmitting everything? How does anyone else know what happened well enough for me to get a reputation boost? Also, the confrontation was over in seconds, fighting the Legendary Bloatfly was more intense.

“The Courier tore the ancient flag of the Commonwealth from its cables, and cast it over the corpse, though whether done as a sign of respect, or in anger for what had been endured to reach this moment - that is unknown.” No, I didn’t. I killed Ulysses with a .50 explosive round to the back of his head, looted his body, threw his remains down a missile silo, then tossed some frag grenades down after it because he was rude to my robot. His body was in chunks. I went back after the ending to check, it was still there. As for what had been “endured”, Ulysses did not inflict significant physical or emotional harm upon me. I lost exactly one hit point in the Courier’s Mile, you can do the math on how tough the rest was on me. Don’t ever imply I respect Ulysses.

The problem with Ulysses as a character is that he makes a lot of assumptions about me, my motivations, and how I work when New Vegas’s strength lies in providing a variety of options. Avellone wanted him to be the Courier’s antithesis, but there are so many choices you can make he ran into the problem of making Ulysses every Courier’s antithesis regardless of their faction, morality, personality, or skills, and he makes no sense as a result. You can’t have a character who’s opposed to both an evil low-intelligence legionary and a sneaky pro-independence member of the FoA. He’s just a pretentious dumbass who wants to blow everyone up.

[badcowboy69]

Thundering Trivia

Whew bet y’all thought you’d not see another bit of writing from me ever again, huh?  Sorry for the absence and hopefully I can keep the stories going again.  Cute little short (well short for me) story dealing with Travis and Riley on a little outing of theirs out in Zion Canyon.  Bit of mild fluff, safe for work, and something new for any fans out there to learn about Travis.

Special thanks to @zoey-and-dakota for always encouraging me to strive with writings.  The thoughts were always there, just couldn’t get my mind to make my fingers type.  Story under cut due to length.

The sun was starting to set in Zion Canyon bringing with it a much needed coolness.  Bright red and orange light streaked the sky while fighting a losing battle against the evening blues and purples taking their place.  Off in the distance a thunderhead was forming with its anvil shaped mass reaching high up into the atmosphere.  Brief flashes of lightning could be seen within as the clouds making up the approaching storm continued to grow and swell.

Riley was leaning peacefully against the wooden door frame to the cabin that he and Travis were staying at.  He watched the skies carefully and figured the storm would be getting to their location very soon.  A sudden blast of cold air hit him from the downdrafts and he could feel the faint hint of rain on his face.  This certainly was not going to be one of the gentle showers that he’s previously experienced here in the Canyon.

It’s been almost a week since Travis brought him here saying they both were due for a change of scenery.  He didn’t say where they were going as he wanted it to be a surprise.  Having a car in their lives meant taking trips and exploring the wasteland would be much easier and pleasurable.  They could now travel farther and stay at their destination for a longer period of time as a result.  Although Travis missed cruising on his motorcycle, it wasn’t practical for the couple for extended trips like this.  Once plans were set and the car was packed with supplies, the two men headed off on their newest adventure.

The drive through the desert offered scenery was flat and barren for the most part, exactly what Riley would expect.  However, the closer they came to Zion the more things changed with towering rock formations and deep ravines.  Riley still doesn’t know how he managed to maneuver the car down the twisting dirt roads leading far into the canyon, but he did so semi-flawlessly leaving only a few smashed cactus in his wake.  At a certain point, Travis guided him through an area which was once a pre-war camping ground and to a lone cabin perched on a cliff.  

After parking, Riley got out of the car and had his breath taken away by the splendor and beauty surrounding them.  Travis smirked to himself as he gathered up their packs and headed to his cabin.  Even if he wanted to, Riley couldn’t move from his spot.  He was too taken in by the tall canyon walls glowing bright orange in the brilliant sunlight.  Scattered trees dotted the landscape and he could faintly hear the roar of a stream down below.  He was brought out of the enchantment feeling Travis’ hand on his shoulder.  Giving the redhead a kiss on the neck, Travis told him to come rest and cool off inside the cabin.  There would be plenty of time for exploring and sightseeing later.

Riley reluctantly stepped away and followed his partner inside the log cabin.  While unpacking, Travis told him the lands here were virtually untouched by the bombs and radiation, a complete hidden paradise for centuries.  He happened to discover it on one of his motorcycle trips and made sure to put the location data in his pipboy for future use.  Since then he’s made good friends with the Tribals that populated the canyon.  On return visits he would bring them goods from New Vegas such as tools and knives to help make their lives a bit easier.  In turn they offered him lodging here whenever he desires.  

In the days that followed Travis showed Riley around the canyon and introduced him to his Tribal friends.  The couple also spent long hours fishing or swimming in the clear non-radiated waters of the canyon.  There was always so much to see and do, but almost like clockwork a gentle rain would happen in the afternoon causing their exploring or fun to halt for a few hours.  However, today’s shower was obviously not going to be little or gentle.  Giving one last look at the approaching storm, Riley stepped back inside the cabin.  

Travis was sitting at the kitchen table cleaning his rifle, Medicine Stick, and looked up when he heard Riley shut the door.  “Gonna get rain, huh?  I can smell it.  Well, at least I think I smell it.  This gun oil frigging reeks,” he grimaced while pushing the bottle of cleaner off to the side.  “Why can’t things that clean actually smell good?  I mean how could something that stinks so bad do good?  Ugh!”

“I suppose the thinking is the more powerful the smell, the more powerful the cleaning it provides.  Anyway, the rains might be more a thunderstorm by the looks of it.  Lots of lightning in this one.  In fact I’ll say it’s going to be one hell of a storm,” Riley replied as he eagerly made his way to a window.  It’s been a long time since he saw a storm that wouldn’t include radiation like back in Boston.  “Are these frequent in these parts?  Like, is there what’s considered a storm season here where you can expect them every day at a certain time just like the showers?”

Riley turned hearing the loud scraping of chair legs on the wood floor as Travis pushed himself abruptly away from the table.  The courier looked slightly flustered as he kept his gaze focused on the rifle before he frantically looked around the cabin, crystal blue eyes wide.  “Travis?  You alright?  Are the fumes getting to you?” Riley asked.

“Y-yeah...uh….”  Travis loped to the door and pulled down a hinged wood board to barricade it shut.  “Can’t have this thing blowing open if it’s going to storm like you said.”  He ran a hand through his black hair and shot Riley an uneasy grin.  “You thirsty?  Want a beer?”

Giving a quick nod Riley got quickly sidetracked as the angry rumble of thunder could be heard echoing through the canyon.  A heavy gust of wind slammed into their cabin making it shudder in its wake.  “Hoo boy!” Riley breathed excitedly directing his attention back to the window.  “I hope this won’t bring floods or anything.  I know we’re up high enough, but those people at riverside will be…” he paused seeing Travis was now pulling the curtains shut and tucking their sides into the window frame.

For a fleeting moment he wondered if Travis was afraid, but he quickly pushed it aside as they’ve dealt with a few small storms before.  However, maybe that was the key.  Previous storms were little rain dumpers with scant bolts of lightning and gentle booms of distant thunder.  This powerful storm was going to have them right in the middle of the mayhem.  The skies now grew dark almost as if it were night and the winds continued to slam against the cabin and make the door rattle.

Meanwhile, Travis continued to cover the windows, but was halted when he got to the one Riley was staring out of.  “Umm...precaution.  In case the window busts we won’t be getting glass or rain in here.”

Riley obliged and moved out of the way and that’s when he noticed the slight tremble in Travis’ hands while he pulled the curtains shut.  He watched his partner closely and noticed the subtle indications that Travis was stressing about the approaching storm, but doing his best to hide it.  Not wanting to bring attention to it, especially if the assumption was a mistake, Riley carefully chose his conversation to see Travis’ reaction.  “I’m glad we’re in this cabin.  I’m sure getting caught out in a storm like this would suck being in a tent.  Has that ever happened to you?”

“N-no.  No, if I am out and about and see a storm coming I try and get somewheres better than a crummy tent,” Travis replied while putting the finishing touches on his window covering task.  Shooting Riley a nervous glance, he twitched his moustache and tried to muster up a smile.  “Oh, I forgot to get you that beer.”  Striding back to the fridge, Travis snagged two bottles out of it and proceeded to make his way back to Riley.  “Sorry about that.”

“It’s ok,” Riley smiled as he took the bottle and twisted off the cap.  He was about to put it to his lips for a drink when a bright white light filtered through the spaces between the cabin’s slats.  Almost immediately following, a deep, resounding boom of thunder filled the air making the very foundation of the cabin shudder.  The event sent a jolt of excitement through the redhead, but seeing the momentary change of Travis’ expression from strained relaxed to fearful verified Riley’s assumption.  Travis was afraid of the storm.

Frowning and doing his best to hide his alarm, Travis made his way back to the table and began putting away the gun cleaning supplies.  He knew Riley must have noticed the shift in his behavior and attitude and that only served to upset him more.  Travis had no secrets to hide from his lover, but his irrational fear over thunderstorms was embarrassing in his eyes.  Riley knew plenty of other things that caused Travis to be afraid such as cazadores and being restrained in any way.  However, fear of thunderstorms almost seemed a bit childish and not something Travis would readily admit to anyone, not even Riley.

While Travis did his best to calmly place the cap back on the bottle of cleaning solution, another flash of light filtered through the cracks making him flinch and bite his lower lip in anticipation for the thunder.  His unwanted wish was granted as the boom made the cabin shudder once again.  The thunder also served as an announcement to the rain which began to pound against the windows sounding as if someone were tossing pebbles against them.

Seeing Travis obviously stressing over the forces of mother nature outside, Riley pondered what he could do to help his partner relax.  He knew the worst thing he could do is question Travis about this as it would bring unwanted attention to the fears and no doubt upset Travis all the more.  Getting an idea, Riley made his way towards their bed and grabbed a blanket.  “You know, nothing beats snuggling under a blanket during a storm.  Would you like to join me?” he asked while taking a seat on the couch and placing the blanket on his lap.

Furrowing his brow at the suggestion, Travis turned towards Riley.  He hesitated for a moment as he wanted to get his supplies properly put away, but seeing the arched eyebrows and sincere look on Riley’s face, Travis couldn’t exactly resist.  Setting the gun cleaning kit back on the table, Travis snatched up his beer and joined Riley on the couch.  “Is clothing optional?” he nervously jested while taking a seat next to him.

“Well...if it makes you feel more comfortable, by all means,” Riley responded with a chuckle while draping the blanket over them and tucking it around their shoulders.  However, Travis didn’t strip and instead snuggled against Riley’s side.  Adjusting his position, Riley put his arm around Travis’ shoulders and held him close.  Leaning in, he pressed his lips against Travis’ cheek right as another boom of thunder sounded.  He felt Travis tense and slightly shudder cementing his assumption about Travis being scared.

From past experience, Riley knew the best way to get Travis focused on something when he was unhappy or uncomfortable was to talk to him about historical pre-war topics.  At first he thought he’d discuss weather conditions back in the days such as blizzards or hurricanes, but then realized mentioning extreme weather during a storm might not be the wisest of choices.  As thunder once again rocked the wood cabin, Riley suddenly got an idea for an interesting topic.

“Back in ancient times some cultures believed that the weather was controlled by their gods.  Some of the more well known ones were Thor of Norse lore and Zeus from Greece.  They were the gods of thunder as well as a few other responsibilities.  Thor was a protector of mankind and wielded his powers for good.  Zeus, on the other hand, would sometimes hurtle lightning bolts at the…” Riley stopped.  He wasn’t sure if telling Travis about gods who enjoyed tossing lightning to the earth down below or even zapping people for the hell of it would be appropriate at this time.  He knew Travis wasn’t one to believe in such beings anyway, but it still was a bad idea.

Travis squirmed at Riley’s pause.  “Earth?” he asked while closing his eyes to the recent flash of lightning that shone through the cracks.

“Well...for the most part, yes,” Riley reluctantly continued, but felt if Travis was asking questions he deserved them answered.  “They’d also get sent down on people that disobeyed or displeased him.”

“What a dick,” Travis snickered.  “Why did people always have these so called supreme beings that are always bent on snuffing ‘em out for whatever reason?”

“Not all of them were dicks,” Riley stated while gliding his hand lightly over Travis’ arm.  “I’m sure the biggest reason they were created that way was to simply keep people in check.  If people had some gigantic being looming over their life with the power to punish or destroy them if they misbehaved I’m quite sure they’d do their best to behave.  Pretty much to keep an honest man honest so to speak.”

“Yeah...I reckon that makes sense.  Still kinda stupid, though.”  Adjusting his position, Travis poked his arm out from under the blanket so he could take a sip from his beer.  Out of the corner of his eye he saw Riley’s expression change and Travis couldn’t help but smirk.  “Didn’t you see me with it?  Had it since you invited me over.  You want a sip?”

“No.  No, that’s ok you…” Riley stopped speaking as thunder roared and made windows and any glass items in the cabin rattle loudly.  Not wanting to be outdone, the rain intensified and made it seem as if they were camping under a waterfall instead of up on a cliff.  When the rumble of thunder finally ended, Riley rested his head against Travis’ and continued to lightly glide his fingertips over the black hairs on Travis’ arm.  “Well, if murderous and mighty humanoid deities aren’t your thing, maybe divine creatures would pique your interest instead?”

Finishing the last of his beer, Travis dropped it off the side of the couch to the floor with a hollow thunk.  “Animals you mean?” he asked while settling back comfortably under the blanket and against his partner.

“Yes, animals.  In Asian cultures like China, great dragons were the masters of the skies and a vast majority of them ruled the weather.  In Egypt most of their gods had human bodies, but their heads were that of animals.  Set, or Seth, was the god of chaos and also in charge of storms.  It’s unclear what his animal was supposed to be, some say a jackal others say some sort of aardvark.  But if you want to talk about gods being dicks, he was a big one.”

Travis giggled nervously and moved his hand down to squeeze Riley’s knee.  “Bet he ain’t got nothing on you in the package department.”

Riley rolled his eyes and shook his head.  “I said he is one, not has one,” he replied, giving Travis a poke in the ribs making him giggle all the more.  “Anyway…” Riley continued while adjusting his glasses, a smile still on his face from Travis’ playful remark.  “A great majority of the Natives from North and South America believed a giant bird caused the thunder and lightning by simply flapping its wings.”

“Does that mean the rains came from it taking a…”

“Don’t even go there!” Riley laughed then laughed harder as Travis returned the tickling he got.  Almost as if disapproving of their behavior, a loud crackle of lightning tore apart the atmosphere followed immediately by a boom of thunder.  Much to Riley’s surprise, the sights and sounds hardly phased Travis as he was too busy squirming under the blanket trying avoid Riley’s hands.  

Once the tickle fight and squirming stopped, Riley took a deep breath and slowly exhaled to try and calm himself.  “Now then, if I may continue.”  He looked at Travis over the rims of his glasses and smirked seeing his lover’s eager and attentive expression.  “I think besides most of the dragons, the Thunderbirds weren’t out to torment humans.  They mostly were protectors and kept giant snakes from killing everyone and taking over the earth.  Interestingly enough, throughout all the different tribes on the north and south continents, they all shared the belief of a Thunderbird.”

“I reckon I like the bird the best,” Travis chimed while changing his position so he was laying over Riley’s lap.

“How come?”  Riley asked as he gathered Travis in his arms to help support him and keep him comfortable.

“Well, think about it.  Almost everyone else was out to kill and punish mankind, torment them, or whatever.  Then you get the birds.  They seemed like they were more wanting to help people than destroy them.”

“Don’t forget that Thor was a protector of the people as were a lot of the dragons.” “See, that’s just it.  Thor’s still a guy.  Don’t care if he’s a god or not, he’s still humaniod and probably prone to fucking up or getting pissed off.  Dragons too.  I dunno...the birds just seem cool and helpful is all.  Plus I think by two entire continents with different people all sharing similar beliefs and stuff about the birds shows they were pretty chill critters.  Had the birds been assholes I think they’d have found something else to try and conjure up.  People usually try not copy bad shit.  Does that make sense?”

Riley grew silent for a moment and chewed on his lower lip while pondering what all Travis said.  “Yes, in some crazy way it all does make sense.  Man, you would have been a great student to have in my class back in the day.  You always have strong interest in so much and ask pretty good questions too.  Your thought process is really unique and imaginative to say the least.”

Travis grinned, but then sobered quickly while averting his gaze from Riley.  “You do know I don’t...ummm...I’m sure you might have noticed, but I ain’t exactly fond of storms.  Kinda scared about them, really.  We ain’t never really experienced storms together outside of the casino or anything so I was able to hide my fear pretty good.  Out here all the sights and sounds are like in your face and stuff.”  He trailed off for a moment, his mind working a million miles an hour on how he wanted to word things.  “Your little lecture about the ancient stuff really helped me a lot.  Kept me distracted and kept me interested.  Maybe later on I’d love to hear more details if you got them, especially about the birds or other Native lore.”

Smiling gently, Riley nodded and lightly touched the side of Travis’ face with his fingertips.  “I’d be very happy to tell you about anything you’d like to know on the topic to the best of my knowledge.”  Bowing his head down, Riley placed a tender kiss on Travis’ brow while wrapping his arms around him.  “I’m also glad I was able to help you through your fears of the storm.  It’s nothing to be ashamed of either.  I figured something was very wrong with your change in behavior, but I wasn’t going to pry and make you more upset.”

“Thanks, Riles, I really appreciate it.  Ain’t saying next storm comes along I won’t be bothered, but it’s good to know that I got you to help me through it.”

“Anytime, Travis.  I’m more than happy to help you ride out the storms in any way you need.”

Narrowing his crystal blue eyes and allowing a lascivious grin to pull back his lips, Travis purred, “Hmmm...I know something much better I’d like to ride during a storm.”

“Oh, Travis,” Riley chuckled with a roll of his eyes.

~fin

[incorrect-kotor-quotes]

HOW DID YOU TAKE LONESOME ROAD AT LEVEL TWO?!

Ah, there’s that bewilderment and outrage I was talking about. 

Let me regale you with the tale of Kari Essex, who is less of a human than an invisible tank on legs.

The first thing you need to know about New Vegas in contrast to KotOR is that stealth, called “sneak” here, is totally overpowered. Max it out, and you’re practically undetectable while crouching unless you go up and touch someone, your attacks when you’re hidden are automatic critical hits, and several perks can increase the damage output even further. At the start, with my well-educated, maxed-out intelligence courier, I put all available skill points into sneak, then busted into an abandoned schoolhouse, and stole the stealth boy (cloaking device if you’re not familiar with Fallout). I headed towards Sloan, the place overrun with deathclaws, one of the nastiest enemies in the game. Once there, I injected myself with a ton of drugs to get the Day Tripper perk, which makes stealth boys last slightly long, and headed through.

Keeping crouched and with my back to the rock wall, I made it as far as possible until one of the twenty nearby deathclaws sensed something was amiss. I turned on the stealth boy, got through unmurdered, and headed for the Gun Runners. Then, since the weapons I needed were way out of my price range, I fast traveled back to the starting point. Now with the Gun Runners marked on my map for fast traveling, I could bypass most of the map to come and go as needed, and made for the Canyon Wreckage protected by my pathetic armored vault suit and a 10 mm pistol, ready to take on what’s supposed to be the final DLC. If I wasn’t supposed to do this, they shouldn’t have put the entrance so close to the starting town.

The first area of Lonesome Road is mostly deserted, with a bunch of corpses and some defense robots. My solution for said robots was to let my own robotic companion, ED-E, take care of them while I cowered in a corner behind some boxes, hoping my sneak skill would protect me. This worked out, because sneak is broken. Also Lonesome Road’s attempt at setting a dismal, isolated tone fails completely thanks to ED-E. Because when I hear the words “lonesome road” the first thing I imagine is having a companion constantly following me everywhere whom I can talk to whenever I want.

With the robots taken care of, I got to looting them and the bodies of the Marked Men, the most common enemies in the DLC. Then I went right back to the Gun Runners and sold it all for my anti-materiel rifle with a ton of explosive rounds. 

The game was basically over at that point, nothing could stop me anymore. Everything after me getting that gun and that ammo was a formality. There might be weapons that technically do more damage, but I haven’t found any other with the same combination of range, accuracy, and destructive power. The base damage is 110, plus that same amount for a critical hit, plus 80 points from the explosive blast which affects nearby enemies, then double that because all my hits were sneak attacks. Standard Marked Men have <300 hit points. With the scope and my sneak skill, everything in my way would inevitably explode before it could fight back.

I went back to the Divide and emerged from the initial silo area to hear Ulysses, everyone’s second-favorite Chris Avellone avatar, start talking to me, except in this run he was confused because I was still level 2 and had no faction allegiance for him to insult me over. He insulted me anyway, and I headed down into the ruined landscape, squatting low to the ground, looking for elevated positions from which I proceeded to kill everything in my way with no effort. Then I looted everything, cashed in as much as possible at the local terminals, and lugged everything else back to the Mojave again to sell, this time upgrading my rifle and getting more explosive rounds.

Back to the Divide, I proceeded to the next area, got the laser detonator so I could get those damn warheads out of my way, continued to slaughter the Marked Men, looted their bodies because every one of them is worth like 1000 caps, and went back to the Mojave. This time, since I was full up on ammo, I began buying implants from Dr. Kusanagi at the New Vegas clinic, beginning my transformation into an unstoppable cyborg badass with the health regeneration implant and the subdermal armor. Combined with the riot gear I found, I was well-protected and could slowly regenerate any minor damage without needing stimpaks.

Then in the underpass, I had my first encounter with the Tunnelers, the supposedly implacable threat even Ulysses fears as if they’re anywhere close to the same threat as Cazadores. The Tunnelers emerged from their burrows, then looked around confusedly because although the game had told them I was present and they should come out and kill me, they could not tell where I was, even though I was close enough to start laying down frag mines everywhere. After slaughtering them all with my shiny new 12.7mm  SMG, I headed up to the High Road.

Once there, I found another cluster of walking money sacks for me to kill, made another trip back to cash it all in, and moved on towards the deathclaw-infested road. The deathclaws proved to be the most difficult obstacle so far, required two or dare I say three shots to kill, with a couple even managing to get as close as fifty yards away from me. At the Crow’s Nest, I found upgraded armor to make myself even harder to kill even though I was still probably around Level 5 or so, I don’t remember, and used the elevated position to clear out most of the deathclaws in my path.

Then I moved forward and went inside the trailer. You know the one. The one where you go in and a deathclaw spawns right on top of you. By all rights this should have actually been my first death, but luckily ED-E was outside and drew its attention away long enough (about four seconds, RIP ED-E) for me to get out and shuffle far enough away for it to lose track of me, then I killed it just like every single other enemy in my way. 

Then I reloaded the game and placed frag mines everywhere to hurt it when it spawned and took it out head-to-head with my SMG to prove I could. Because if the game wants to pull cheap bullshit, I’ll pull cheap bullshit right back.

One more Marked Man Massacre and three cybernetic enhancements later, I launched a nuke, listened to Chris Avellone Ulysses get mad at me for launching a nuke even though Chris Avellone the many talented, hardworking, totally-not-pretentious people who made this DLC didn’t include any other option to progress, and moved on to the next stretch.

You know the pattern by now. I got to the next location, killed everything, looted bodies, bought upgrades. The Cave of the Abaddon presented my second instance of panic, though this one was my fault as I forgot to keep squatting while moving forward so the horde of Tunnelers inside spotted and swarmed at me, forcing me to kite them back the way I came. I collected Seymour the dog, and headed up to the last stretch of the Divide.

The Marked Men continued to die easily to me in the next area. Then I went to track down Rawr, the most dangerous deathclaw in the area, killed him in two shots, and took his talon as a trophy. In the next area, I encountered a few Marked Men with their own stealth boys. I killed them, took their stealth boys, used the stealth boys to maneuver and get above their friends. It was over once I had the high ground, and I rained explosive death upon anything and everything that wasn’t already in pieces by this point. I’d finally reached Ulysses’s Temple. Then I turned around and walked away because I had a ton of loot I needed to sell.

I entered Ulysses’s little base, sprung a captured ED-E, then went down to face the devious villain, who was standing at the far end of the silo room facing away from me. I shot him in the back of the head, then a few more times to finished him off, looted his body, fought off a swarm of Marked Men, sacrificed ED-E to stop the nukes from launching, and left.

I went back to the Courier’s Mile, retrieved Blood-Nap, my favorite Bowie knife, and approached the area the same way I did everything else. I ended up taking exactly one hit point of damage from a stray bullet throughout the entire area.

That’s it, that’s how I approached Lonesome Road. I originally found it to be an obnoxiously stupid and boring conclusion to the DLC storyline, so I chose to exploit it to rapidly gain money, experience, and equipment while participating as little in the story as possible. Also, I got the Legion version of the Courier Duster at the end and I have no idea how or why.