"Thing is... the game was rigged from the start." I hear a gunshot accompany a muzzle flash, and the man in the checkered suit with the gruff tribals who ambushed and accosted me were replaced by pitch-black darkness. I am empty, as empty as the stretch of road I occupied on my trek to New Vegas, tasked with delivering my last package as a Courier, on the lonesome road to Vegas. I honestly don't remember anything between the flash and waking up to the cool air of a humming ceiling fan flowing over my face.
"Good, you're awake!" A man with a somewhat gruff, yet gentle voice, seems satisfied with my state of consciousness, and further inquires, through routine medical procedure for patients who have received some form of cranial trauma, wheth…Read more >