//------------------------------// // Journal 3 // Story: The Courier's Journal // by RF and AG //------------------------------// Zion Canyon - Day Four Four days, four days since I entered this forsaken canyon. It only took four days for my views of this place to completely flip. Optimism and wonder was replaced by a cold hard demeanour and maybe a little bit of sorrow. In helping Joshua and the Dead Horse tribe, I found another peaceful group called The Sorrows. Another tribe with more problems that they couldn’t handle on their own. I wouldn’t really blame them, though, the White Legs, which was the hostile tribe, terrorized them constantly with slightly more advanced weapons. It seemed to be a constant struggle for areas and resources among the tribes. The Dead Horses lead by Joshua and the Sorrow lead by a man named Daniel, together they could probably wipe out the White Legs, but their different views clashed. The whole situation was fucked and it seemed that without a doubt, the White Legs were a bunch of evil assholes. Every Time I talked to Daniel, Joshua, or Follows-Chalk I found out more about the past. They would talk about where they were from, and all that stuff while I just listened mainly. In the end, I found out three things, the Dead Horse tribe was only there to help The Sorrows. The White Legs invaded here just to try and join the Legion, and finally, the Sorrows were actually the original settlers from before any of us had lived. I didn’t find out that last part by talking to Daniel or the rest, instead I read it from a bunch of journals. See, I found a series of caves during those four days I spent running around. It was interesting to say the least, there were terminals, old digital entries among the stashes in the caves. They were written by a single man, Randall Clark, and boy did they tell of a grim past. No matter how much the man tried to make it sound like he had done something evil, I would have shook his hand had I met him. Spared the pain of an old couple, claimed vengeance on a bunch of Vault fuckers, and essentially raised a group of children to become self sufficient. The man was a role model and deserved to be respected like one. I ended up finding his body up by two massive red rocks that the natives called The Red Gate. All that was left was a skeleton, but I buried it. Even found the wood to make a makeshift cross to carve his name into and hang his weapon on. I took the armor though, I was always looking for a set of Ranger Armor. At one point, while helping Daniel, I was given a guide from the Sorrows. A woman named Walking Cloud … nice gal, but she has scars that lay below the surface. Maybe tomorrow I could pry something out of her and help, I already know the issue thanks to Daniel, but that doesn’t solve the problem. Normally I don’t do such small things like this to those who aren’t close, but I can sympathise with losing a close one. Yesterday, I found myself wondering just how much death this canyon faces everyday. I was up in one of the watchtowers overlooking the valley, having a nice break while listening to Follows-Chalk. He kept going on about the lands beyond Zion, probably New Vegas, as though it was the ultimate haven. As he kept rambling on, I watched a two man scout team of White Legs wander along a trail. I was tempted to put a round in one of them with my sniper rifle, but it wasn’t necessary. The first one stepped on a mine, shearing both of his legs off. It happened so fast that the other was frozen in place for nearly a full minute before he tried to help. Even if he had reacted sooner, the native would still have bled out. The pained screams were probably ear piercing to the unharmed White Leg, but from the distance it sounded more like a muffled cry. Poor bastard, wasn’t even given a quick death. Call me cold, but I left them alone. One died while the other would be fine physically; mentally, not so much. There are people who deserve it, and I had made up my mind days ago when the Caravan was hit. These savages deserved it. I didn’t really feel anything when I watched that scene, maybe I had seen too much to be phased now. From one area filled with death to another, I’m just glad I’ve gotten used to it after all of these years. Though I think, one day I will look back and find a lot of regrets, and reasons to have done something different. Now is not that day. One last thing to note; as I write this from the Sorrow’s camp, I know something big is coming, but as to what exactly, I have no idea.