Journal of Sir Latham

Journal of Sir Latham, Entry 10.1.4.
We have crash landed north of a camp occupied by Super Mutants. We believe these to be remnants of the Master's army as encountered by the first Vault Dweller. Although the archives mentioned that some of these Super Mutants might actually be friendly, we found little to like about these ones, especially the chief.

The leader of this camp went by the name of Gammorin. We were set upon by his patrols soon after we pulled ourselves from the wreckage. Bound and gagged, the mutant guards dragged us back to their camp. Fully half of us had been killed by the crash, and now less than half of that survived the treatment of our mutant captors.

We were scheduled to be killed for the amusement of Gammorin. It was not hard to see that several of the Super-Mutants were unhappy with this. In fact, I was amazed to discover that they were not as savage as I had been previously lead to believe.

I challenged Gammorin to single unarmed combat. It was to the death. There could be no other outcome in my mind. If I die, it will in combat.

Journal of Sir Latham, Entry 0.0.1.
I am awake.

To tell the truth, I remember little of the battle. The gash on my head, along with multiple fractures and breaks, paint an adequate picture. However, the mutants are now expecting me to lead them since I laid Gammorin to rest. I will record more later. I fear my brain has been set awry by the fight. I will try to rest until I can think clearly.

Journal of Sir Latham, Entry 0.5.8.
The Super Mutants are a simple but good people. While considered stupid by many, they show a loyalty stronger than I have seen in many humans. They live life the only way they know how.

I have begun to organize these Mutant forces with the handful of fellow humans who survived the crash. I have recovered physically but I find myself prone to mysterious fits of anger and depression. But much worse are the hallucinations.

Journal of Sir Latham, Entry 1.4.5.
Today is a day filled with absolute horror.

Only one mutant returned from a scouting trip that was ten soldiers strong. He staggered back to camp and collapsed without a sound. He died in my arms while trying to hold back the blood pouring from his mouth.

Before I had a chance to close his eyes, the menace was upon us! Metallic death machines entered the camp undetected by my sentries! I have never seen creatures such as this before, but they seemed unstoppable. It was only the sheer power and, more importantly, our numbers that allowed us to defeat these three machinations of death.

Our losses were staggering.

Journal of Sir Latham, Entry 1.8.2.
We are resting now. Humans and mutants alike, hanging their heads and trying to catch their breath. Who knows how far we retreated? Twenty miles? Forty even?

Once we put enough distance between us and this... this Menace from the West, then we can regroup and plan a counter-strike.

Journal of Sir Latham, Entry 2.3.4.
I am not well. This morning I thought I was attacked by a Deathclaw. Too far from my SMG, I lashed out with my Ripper, slashing the beast's throat. My vision cleared in time to see Nathan the scribe's eyes go cloudy. His neck in ruin, his blood covering my hands. How can I go mad when humanity is in such dire peril?

I must maintain my sanity. I must.

Journal of Sir Latham, Entry 2.4.2.
My scouts engaged an enemy today. The sound of chain guns and explosions hasting my steps. What I observed in that fight changed me to the core of my being.

My mutant scouts were engaged by a Brotherhood patrol. For the first time in my life, I was frozen in battle.

I watched, curious even, tribal looking Brotherhood soldiers laughing manically as they cut down my new companions.

My mutant companions, who dedicated their life to me as their leader. I lifted my weapon then, and fired again and again.

When it was over, with Brotherhood corpses littering the ground, my head suddenly cleared. I now know my purpose and, more importantly, I finally know who I am.

I am Gammorin - sworn enemy of the Menace from the West.