Why are you dropping your pistol old man? Are your bones to brittle to fight on? Have you lost enthiusiasm for our battle? So many people count on us, on you, to push back and conquer our oppressors. Why quit now? They took it all from you and even a little more. They stepped on your fingers and spat in your face. They pointed and laughed at you as you struggled to regain your pride and honor. As the grasp on reality was slowly drained from you. Yes. You're weaker than before. Your memory is dusty at best, but you still know how to fire that gun. You can still make a difference.

Stand up! Yes you. Stand! Let the weight of the leather straps on that rifle encumber you. Feel the cold, hungry grip of your pistol once more. Finger the trigger and squeeze it. Smell carbon ambush the oxygen around you and fill your lungs with nastalgia. Watch the enemy tumble down before you. Let's take the fight to their front doorstep. We'll knock hard and wait to see the look on their face before we run them through and tear their house down around them. Why not? We've got nothing to lose. Don't stop now old man. Give 'em a run for their money. I know you can.

It's around two or three in the afternoon. My lungs are cursing my name as I light up another cigarette and lean back in the old rocker I've had for three decades and some change. What a life I'm living. Two empty bottles of whiskey and a half pack of smokes are all I've done with my day. I gave up a long time ago. Hell, the revolver I keep slung around my waste has bullets in it that are around twenty years old. What am I doing here? I should end it all now.

Where's your spirit at old man? You made a promise to whatever god could hear you that you would bring down the Enclave one way or another. Your words weren't feeble old man. You meant them. So why are you smoking those cigarettes and drinking that whiskey? It'll kill you.

You gotta die sometime sweetheart. I guess this is the way I'm gonna go. Can't fight fate in this game of chess. You'll always be a pawn.

Since when has a pawn ever been the least important piece in chess? You hold sway over the knights, rooks, and bishops. For they know they'll never fight on the line like you do. Without you they'd have no army.

I'm a pawn with bad knees and nothing to fight for. If I go fight I'll die.

And become a martyr. You'd rather die from a bullet than a bottle and you know it.

Get outta my head lady. I don't got enough will to go insane and make it.

That's exactly what you need Sampson. To go insane. Let me take over your pain. All you need do is fire those guns and show them what hell really is.

I guess you're right. Jazz would've went out that way. My wife would kill me if she saw me right now.

If she weren't already dead.

Watch your damn mouth lady!

But you know I'm right Sampson. The Enclave did this to her. They killed your wife. They're to blame.

The Enclave should pay. They killed my wife. They're to blame.

That's right Sampson. No guts...

...no glory.

You've aroused my intrest. I'll keep an eye on this story thread.

Remember why you've chosen to dust off your armor and weapons and head back into the fight. The Wastelands don't need a hero. They need a madman. Someone who knows they're going to die eventually. So that they'll be merciless and ruthless. You'll strike fear into the hearts of the Enclave. Imagine the tales to be told of your valor Sampson. Just like the Sampson of the ancient biblical days. You'll stand alone against many and show them they are so misplaced. This is not the time for mistreatment. We are in need of healing.

We need you Sampson. Use memories of your wife as inspiration. Let the wounds you've sustained justify your cruelty towards them. Show them unending pain as they've done you. Become a monster. Feed off their fear. Once you've reached the morale limits, exceed them and be relentlessly courageous in performing actions and fulfilling deeds no righteous man should ever have to. Become a vessel of justice. No matter what the cost.

Do this for yourself.

I've just reached some sort of cave just outside D.C near Tenpenny Tower. It wreaks of ill-kempt human flesh and ceturies of decay. It's lit by small fires scattered throughout the interior which doesn't aid the smell. I made sure to down another bottle whiskey before I made my way inside. Only a man unaware of himself would be foolish enough to try something either insanely bold or insanely insane as this. Rumor has it this is some sort of keep for the families of Enclave officers. The further in you go the more extravegent it's suppose to get. I'm not sure what I'll do when I get there. There's something inside me. It's telling me to shred them to bits. To put a bullet between the eyes of everyone here. I don't know. I'm only just starting at this game of Craziness.

You're doing well Sampson. You've made this far. Your knee's are killing you. You feel drained from the trip but you've finally reached your first location. This is where you'll begin Sampson. Start here.

I can't. What am I gonna do? Kill them all? How would that make me any better then them?

It won't. But it will help you sleep better at night. That feeling inside you is a hunger you haven't fed. It's revenge Samspon. Your heart is dying from the pain you feel. It will help old man. Just do it. You'll see.

I can feel the warmth from the fires growing stronger. If I listen closely I can hear echoes bouncing off the rock walls. There are people ahead. Children I believe from the pitch of the voice.

It's easier to start young. It may seem brutal and barbaric but it makes killing the advlts even simpler. Look at it as an escape for them. One bullet for each. You can shoot them from the back so they don't have to watch. It might make it easier for you.

I have to do it.

Lord Dren requested close.