[ EU ] The Lone Wanderer does not leave Vault 101 when ( s ) he is 19 , but instead escapes it after taking the GOAT when ( s ) he his 16 . Seven years later , in 2281 , ( s ) he is in New Vegas , and meets the Courier .

**Just a quick backstory, my Lone Wanderer was a sniper/sneak build ( with added melee ), Regulator, Great Emancipator, and addicted to Mentats. 
 
 My Courier was a gung-ho cowboy, used only revolvers and lever-actions, and addicted to alcohol ( specifically whiskey ) ** 
 
 The dusty saloon in the small town of Goodsprings, a little over two hundred years since nuclear fire bathed the world in its searing heat. A perfect place for a chance meeting of like-minded individuals. 
 
 The stranger seemed to blow in with the desert wind, a tall man, nearly the same age as the courier, though few would believe it, his brown hair and matching eyes would, at first glance, make him nondescript, just another wastelander. 
 
 What made him different, ( other than the high-powered rifle strapped to his back and Pipboy on his wrist ) as the old saying goes, was the company he kept. At his heel, a friendly-enough looking dog, his grey and black coat reminded the Courier of Cheyenne. 
 
 Who, at that moment, took the opportunity to introduce herself to another K-9. 
 
 `` Cheyenne, heel!'' Sunny called, the dog reluctantly returning to her owner's side. 
 
 `` She's quite alright,'' the stranger smiled warmly, a smile that only seemed to barely touch this man's calculating eyes. Not quite cold... but almost. 
 
 His other companion gave everyone in the bar pause, as most hulking super mutants do. 
 
 The stranger stopped, looking non too pleased. `` Something you all want to tell me?'' He asked, the friendly tone doing nothing to mask the warning underneath. 
 
 *Oh boy* The Courier stood, placing his hand on his hip, right next to Lucky's handle. `` Everything alright here?'' The Courier growled. 
 
 The stranger's eyes met his. Usually, the voice and look of the Courier would fright most into submission. The stranger seemed, no, the stranger *was* unfazed, he casually moved his olive-colored duster aside, revealing a gruesome-looking combat knife. The knuckle-guard covered in spikes, and a equally-mean looking silenced 10mm pistol. 
 
 At the same moment, the dog dropped into a defensive stance, his earlier friendliness a thing of the past. The courier reckoned the dog had n't won his place in this band of warriors by his charm alone. 
 
 `` Maybe I should just wait outside....'' The super mutant began, looking to his friend pleadingly. The courier cursed inwardly as he remembered that Rex was waiting for him, back in Doc Mitchell's. Boone, though... 
 
 Boone announced his presence by racking the bolt on his hunting rifle. The courier turned, seeing it was currently pointed at the floor, carried in a casual grip by the ex-NCR sniper. 
 
 `` No.'' The stranger said evenly. `` Look... All I want is a drink, some trading... I've been on a long journey, with nothing but raiders, slavers and other wasteland degenerates as my company... so, how about we all just calm down?'' 
 
 Boone exchanged a glance with his friend. The Courier shrugged, returning to his seat beside the radio. The stranger took a seat two down from him, and ordered two Nuka-Colas and a bottle of water. 
 
 `` Can I borrow a bowl?'' He asked politely, nodding down to his four-legged companion. 
 
 Trudy smiled, `` Of course you can dear,'' she replied, turning to retrieve the object. 
 
 The courier took this opportunity to examine the stranger more closely, taking note of the many scars over the man's face and neck. One in particular peaked the Courier's interest. 
 
 `` Excuse me,'' He began, causing the stranger to regard him in that same way, as if he was sizing the Courier up. `` I do n't mean to be rude, but, what happened...'' The courier's voice trailed of as he indicated his own throat. 
 
 `` Oh,'' The stranger chuckled. `` That.'' He shrugged, `` I uh, well, its kind of a long story... Simply put, I grew up in a Vault. When I was sixteen, I left, and shortly after I left, I got captured by Slavers.'' The stranger paused long enough to remove a tin of Mentats from an inside pocket, he threw one into his mouth, and continued. `` I spent three weeks with a damn bomb collar on my neck.'' 
 
 The Courier started, looking at the man in shock. `` Bomb collar?! What the hell do you mean?!'' 
 
 The stranger smirked. `` Back east, that's how Slavers keep their *pets*'' obvious malice filled the man's voice, `` in line. Try to escape, boom.'' 
 
 `` Shit.... Are you serious?'' The courier just could n't imagine it. `` How'd you escape?'' 
 
 The stranger's eyes dropped as he took a sip of Nuka-Cola. `` Well, the slaver had his back turned, the others were off.... gathering more merchandise.... I used my bindings... He'd tied my hands in front of me... I strangled him, kicked the detonator away.. got the key.'' 
 
 The courier whistled. `` That's really something, man. Got ta admit, I'm impressed.'' He took a swig from the flash of whiskey. `` What'd you say your name was?'' The courier asked casually. 
 
 `` Oh, that depends. To some, I'm the Great Emancipator, to others, I'm the Savior of the wastes.... Most called me The Lone Wanderer.'' 
 
 The Courier cocked an eyebrow, his eyes traveling from the'Lone Wanderer' to his companions, one of which was eagerly lapping water from the bowl Judy had provided, the courier supposed Trudy had handed it to the Super Mutant to the man's left. 
 
 `` Yeah, I know, does n't make a lick of damn sense, still, you know that's-'' 
 
 The stranger was cut off by the song,'I Got Spurs' faded away, and Mr. New Vegas took to the Airwaves. 
 
 `` Hello, this is Mr. New Vegas with the-'' 
 
 `` This guy's good.'' The mutant commented, `` but he's sure not any Three-Dog.'' 
 
 The Lone Wanderer chuckled. `` Damn right. I miss that crazy old son-of-a-bitch.'' Shaking his head, the Wanderer continued, `` Anyway, yeah, I know, not so'Lone' am I? The real name's Carter, this,'' he tapped the bulging green bicep by his head with a nuckle, `` is Faukes, and the little guy's name is Dogmeat.'' 
 
 `` I'm Arthur, and this here is Boone.'' He nodded to the quiet man behind him. 
 
 `` Nice to meet ya,'' The man stuck out his hand. Dogmeat barked, seemingly in agreement. 
 
 `` Just so you know,'' Faukes began, `` I named the mutt!'' Faukes chuckled happily. 
 
 `` Bullshit. I found him months before I met you, you green bastard.'' Seeing the courier's look of confusion, he added, `` I took cover in a junkyard near where I ditched the slavers, found this guy, always liked dogs.'' he shrugged. 
 
 `` I got one.'' The courier smiled at the man. 
 
 `` So... you hate slavers?'' Boone finally spoke, not looking away from his meager meal. 
 
 `` Ah, the sniper speaks!'' Carter chuckled, his expression only turning a hint grim. `` Damn straight. Killed every one I could get a bead on.'' His eyes suddenly narrowed. `` Why?'' 
 
 Boone smiled, or what passed for it, basically a twitch at the corners of his mouth. `` Do n't get smart with me, I can outshoot you any day of the week.'' 
 
 Carter held the expression for a moment, before breaking into a smile, `` Well, let's just hope that we never have to put that to the test. But really, why?'' After a moment, recognition dawned on the man. `` Who did they take of yours?'' 
 
 *Damn. Right for the throat. * 
 
 `` Wife. Mercy kill.'' Boone said evenly. 
 
 `` Shit.'' Carter blinked. `` Oh fuck man, and I thought I'd had the worst time...'' 
 
 `` The Legion.'' Boone continued. 
 
 Carter blinked. `` What?'' he asked, confusion painting his face. 
 
 `` The Legion.'' Arthur broke in. `` You came from the east, right? You had to cross Legion territory... right?'' 
 
 `` We had to swing north... the Mississippi River is almost impossible to cross... guess we skirted them.'' 
 
 `` Slaver culture, camped just across the river, about to start a war with the NCR?'' 
 
 Carter's eyes narrowed. `` Tell me where.'' 
 
 It was Arthur's turn to be confused. `` What?'' 
 
 `` I want to know where they're camped. Is their leader with them?'' 
 
 `` Y-Yeah Caesar. He's in the-'' The courier was cut off as Carter began to chuckle madly at the mention of the name. 
 
 `` Put the location in my Pipboy.'' He brought it up to Arthur. 
 
 `` What are you gon na do?'' Arthur scoffed, `` Go to war with the whole damn Legion?!'' 
 
 Carter shrugged, `` Why not? I took down The Pitt. It's a whole city worth of slavers. No different.'' 
 
 `` How the hell are you supposed-'' 
 
 `` We storm this camp, kill them all, then, I move further into their territory, guerrilla style. Take them out, one by one.'' 
 
 `` You ca n't jus-'' Arthur began 
 
 `` I'm in.'' The smooth, even voice of his ever-present companion. 
 
 Arthur exhaled, placing his forehead on the bar.... 
 
 `` Fuck it, why not?'' He shrugged, earning a war cry from Carter. 
 
 The two powerhouses strode out the door, into the dark, silent Mojave night. 
 
 Each fought their own battles, to some they are heroes, and to others, they are nothing more than men who bring hell on their heels. 
 
 This is how it is, how its always been. 
 
 *War. * 
 
 *War never changes. *
