[center] [i][b]McCarran Airfield--[url=http://wh40kart.im/_images/320c20fcb1403ebb5e2cb59161b91286.jpg]Warleader Dosh-Novan[/url][/b][/i] [/center]
[center] [i][b]Prologue[/b][/i] [/center]
The Cult of Ug-Qualtoth, was little more then the kind of rumor that people share over a drink, only to remember it in the depth of night, fearing that it might be reality, for the people of Vegas. Stories, brought in from traders and Mercenaries, from a strange new faith, far in the north, a city covered in a Dark Mist, and nightmares about a black Monolith, often circulated for a while, before they were seen as ridiculous overstatements. Yes, there were barbarians somewhere out there, with strange believes and a fanatic devotion to something above them, yet as seen with the Legion, these primitives could be beaten back, crushed under the returning might of civilization! 

It was unknown to most people, yet New Vegas had indeed more history with the cult, then met the eye at first glance. Ten years ago, before the battle of Hoover damn, a Missionary had arrived in Freeside, robed in black, with a crude copy of a book, with letters that hurt in the eyes, and some even claimed made their eyes bleed. It was this very Missonary who would preach among the Junkies and the filth of Vegas, and soon even be able to win the first Converts among the Downtrodden. Yet most mistrusted the strange preaching about the uncaring deity called Ug-Qualtoth and were keen on seeing this new faith vanish as quickly as it had appeared 
It was the brutal murder of a young girl, which escalated the tension. Even through nobody could proof any connection with the Missonary, a angry Mob, lead by the mother of the murdered girl, stormed the Quarters of the Missonary, killed some of the Converts, before setting the Missionary himself ablaze and throwing him into the sewers. Most say that his corpse still lays below the now restored Streets of the city of Light, while some say that he has survived, forming a cult below the city, in the sewers, waiting to one day return to the surface. 

[center][i][b] 2290, New Vegas, McCarran Airfield [/b][/i] [/center]

Warleader Dosh-Novan had lived three lives. His first was as a bright eyed boy in the Capital Wasteland, helping out at his parents trading caravan, Haggling for a minor profit with the Settlements around. It was a good life, as good as a live could be in the wasteland, until the day his parents were murdered by raiders. If it hadnt been for the Patrol of the Brotherhood of Steel, his first live would have been his only live. But they took him in, cared for him, giving him a new home, and a new Purpose. It was here where his second live began, the day he swore to Uphold the codex, and his Loyalty to Elder Lyons. What a fool he had been! 
For his third life began when the Cult pushed into DC, when he had been blessed to lay eyes on the Monolith, in all his magnificent glory! How pathetic the Brotherhood was, how insignificant their ideas and values! To turn on them, and cut down his former brother and sisters in arms with his Mini-gun had been no betrayal, it had been an act of Mercy!   

"We have Arrived, Warleader!" 

The words of the Warrior were soft, as the Plane slowly began to lower it altitude. Dosh-Novan had been lost in thoughts as he once more had played with his dog-tags, the last reminded of his second life. [i]"So foolish.."[/i] 

"Good!" 

It had been tempting to arrive in his old Power armor, now decorated in grim trophies with a cloak made out of the Skin of worthy opponents, yet the Pure One had forbidden such an open display of might and terror. An so, the Warleader had to wear the humiliating clothing of the world before the great fire had been scourged the world! A black suite, with a suitable trench coat and leather gloves, to hide the Tattoo´s on his hands. 
The Pure One demanded it, and the Warleader would follow! As such, the Warriors who he had personally chosen to serve as her guard, all wore a similar attire. Black Suites, with polished metal chest-armor and clean-pre war rifles. The only thing, that the Warleader had been insisted on, was that his men could keep their Rebreathers, allowing them to keep on breathing the blessed Miasma of the monolith. 

As the Plane landed, and finally had reached a halt, the Warleader got up from his seat, and passed his men, who, like naive children, stared out of the Window, glaring at the city in the distance, so unlike anything they had seen before. Their enthusiasm for this place was worrying, and the Warleader would keep an close eye on them, that they would not fail in their Duty to the pure on. 
Reaching the enclosed Compartment in the Back, he wanted to Knock, yet the door opened on its own, and Marie Ashur, Adopted Daughter of the Prophet, stepped out of the room. She had chosen a modest, yet still quite suiting dress, in a pale white, that matched the snow-white of her skin. 

"Yes, Warleader, i share your opinion!"  

Leaving the Plane, they quickly could hear the rolling of a single wheel, and soon the securitron had reached them.
Mr. House seemed to enjoy a little joke, that only few chosen or especially literate would understand. For the Face on the screen was nobody else but the Pre-War Horror-Writer Howard Edgard King, famous for his dark Short stories of the Cosmic Horror. Later in his life, he was unable to make the jump to Cinema, and had to do a wide range of humiliating Commercials, leaving him mostly remembered after his death in the year of 2051, for the Penny Gram Fishsticks.
The Warleader was bit tense as he mistrusted the Machine, yet the Pure one simply made a step forward. 

"Welcome, Travellers, your journey has ended in one way, yet just began in another! A meeting is held in the Ultra-Lux, a place of glamour and luxury...yet some may rumor of it Dark Secrets! I may indulge you with the story of their heritage on the way there, so stay a while, and Lisen..." 


[center][i][b] 2290, New Vegas, Ultra-Luxe Resort & Casino[/b][/i] [/center]

Many eyes had looked for the delegation of the cult, yet many that had seen them, didnt realized it. Marie Ashur, who lead the group, didnt looked like the representative of a dark faith from the north. More like the daughter of an NCR Brahmin Baron, who lost all her caps on the first day, and would have to write a tearful letter to her father to came and take her home. Yet on the second look, the ones that werent distracted would notice that something was off about her. The very way she walked seemed off, and strangely weightless. The ones that would continue on watching, would meet the Iron glare of the Warleader, and wouldnt be able to stand it long. As such, the delegation soon reached their goal, entering the Ultra-Luxe.

"Introducing the honored heiress of Dunwich, Marie Ashur, who are here to act as Representative of the Faith!" 

The young pale woman was the first to enter the building. Her eyes wandered over all who had arrived so far, while the Warleader placed himself to her side, making her look even smaller and thinner. Resting them for a moment on the Legion, especially on Lucius, she shortly whispered into the Warleaders direction. "I want you to talk with this man! Warrior to Warrior!" 
Raising an eyebrow the Warleader just let out an accepting grunt, as her eyes wandered towards the freshly elected President of the NCR. A smirk layed on her face, as she seemed to wave away a thought, before looking further. 
Yet it was the Warleader himself who spotted the High Elder first. His lip began to twich, as he took a deep breath, before the Pure on turned her head. 

"Tempted to Salute your old masters, Warleader?" 

"They never were my "Masters"! They are from a chapter far from the pathetic rabble Lyons has led! They mean nothing to me, Pure one!" Crossing his arms, he couldnt help but think, what a wonderful trophy the head of an High Elder would make. 

"Well, look what we have here..." Marie´s suddenlty began to step towards the delegation of the Keys, a broad, slightly unsettling smile on her lips. Her eyes had focused on Suttbray, yet her feet firstly guided her towards Bartholomew Hemingway. Slightly annoyed, the Warleader followed, his eyes still on the High Elder. 
"It is always a pleasure to met our honored trading Partners.." Bowing her head slightly she offered her hand to both, before taking a seat right next to them, making sure that she sat close to Suttbray. "..and interested souls in the one true faith! Ug-Qualtoth smiled upon you, Alexander!" 

Taking a stand behind the Pure one, the Warleader refused to sit, until all had arrived. Even then, he would just be a silent watcher, guardian and servant for the pure one! His true mission would begin after this charade had ended!