Saying Sorry is the hardest part

I should be a bit nervous heading into Goodsprings, but the continuing existence of well-tended gardens and herds of bighorners indicate that it’s unlikely the Powder Gang have taken over. They don’t seem like the type of people who are keen to support a basic agricultural economy get off the ground.
It turns out that Goodsprings is pretty much as I left it… a sleepy little ghost town where folk are just happy to get on with the business of getting on. If it wasn’t for the Powder Gang gang-member keeping watching on the outskirts of town you’d imagine it was the perfect place to live.

Lily and Joe drop in at the Saloon for dinner and a drink. If I’m going to introduce a crazy Nightkin pseudo-grandmother to the good folk of Goodsprings, I’d better do it while they’re drunk.



It’s nice to catch up with the old gang, but at last I can’t put it off anymore, and head up the hill to speak with Ringo. Ringo – the guy at the centre of this whole debacle. For those who don’t remember, Ringo is a trader with the Crimson Caravan, and his specific caravan had the audacity to fight back when the Powder Gang tried to murder them all and steal their stuff.

Ringo was the only survivor, and the Powder gang suspect that Goodsprings is hiding him. Things will turn ugly if this that’s confirmed.

Remember the time I fled Goodsprings, leaving you and the rest of the town to die? Wacky fun times.

Remember the time I fled Goodsprings, leaving you and the rest of the town to die? Wacky fun times.

Ringo is happy to see me (and why not, I’m a handsome guy), and is thrilled that I’m now willing to help fight the Powder Gang… and by “fight” I mean “sic the over-protective mutant who is deluded into believing I’m her grandson on them”.

Is this a good karma thing or bad karma thing? On one hand I’m saving a man’s life – maybe a whole town. On the other hand, I’m planning to achieve this feat by hiding while a grandmother who mistakenly believes I’m her grandson does all the work for me.
Actually, come to think of it, has there been a single mentally ill person that Joe’s met in the Mojave that he HASN’T subsequently killed or taken advantage of? I’m basically a monster.

Be that as it may, before revealing his hand to the Powder Gang, Ringo suggests getting the rest of the town on board and prepared. Can’t argue that logic.

I figure that forging this small community into a well-oiled fighting machine is a job for tomorrow, so I spend the night in the same rusty old caravan that I slept in so many nights ago.


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