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This is fucking stupid. "Lets make a class that means literally nothing and would just make it so it wastes your time even more" when you could do the same thing by getting a single level and slave rags but you don't have to get mugged for more money and they don't get to waste an extra 5 minutes of your time.

The sounds of guitar music came from the corner of a shed in the middle of nowhere, Nevada. A ghoul, wearing a sombrero, wearing his leather poncho, brandishing his engraved guitar, strummed away at his metal strings, playing a beautiful song, which even without a single lyric uttered, told a story of love. The ghoul smiled as he strummed before a man knocked on the shed's door. "Ay, qué es lo que quieres?" The ghoul spoke, sighing as he stopped his strumming session. "This is important work I'm doing here!" "The deathclaws are back! We need some range down here!" Another sigh, and the ghoul stood up, grabbing his repeater and six-iron. The tassels on his poncho glistened as he grabbed his bandolier, a bottle of absinthe, and his hatchet off the wall. "Estúpidos lagartos..." He sighed as he kicked the shed door open. Name: Santiago de Cruz Nicknames: Vaquero, El Paladín, Tirador de Primera Backstory: Santiago de Cruz was a cowboy, living in Nevada when the bombs fell. His wife and children made it into a vault safely, while he was left to become a ghoul. He would wake up in the custody of Caesar's Legion, enslaved and put to work. When the First Battle of Hoover Dam began, he and a group of enslaved ghouls had planted homemade explosives in the armory tent of a nearby Legion encampment. After watching the explosion, they had escaped with the rest of the enslaved, using swords, pickaxes, and their bare hands to claw their way out of the Legion's grip. After doing so, he and the rest of the ghouls joined the NCR. He gained a position as a ranger, but was presumed dead during the Bitter Springs incident. He left for New Vegas and began a new life as a hunter and savior of the town of Caliente. He jumped onto the pink-skinned horse he had named Pretty Girl, cocking his lever-action repeater as he tossed the shell to a group of screaming girls (or a mirage, either or). He looked down at the city of Caliente, taking a swig of the absinthe before putting it back into his holster, and pushed into the town, ready to take on whatever irradiated demon he could find.

ROBCO SERVER LINE-002 SECURED LINE --- ESTABLISHED [CLASSIFIED TRANSMISSION] “HOME-COMING” DATE: 10/07/2278 DESIGNATOR: GENERAL OLIVER CALLSIGN: [ADMINISTRATOR] - [ADMINISTRATOR] - You need to understand Mr President the Mojave is where our future lays, not Seattle. As you've seen from the reports, this Seattle expedition is useless. Hell! the Legion Cohort in the area had a mutiny after our initial offensive. The local Brotherhood chapters lay dormant within their bunkers, the unity mutants haven't been seen since the first few weeks. I consider this expedition a success Mr President. [WAR-HAWK] - Oliver, my dear friend. You need to understand a lot of political weight had to be pushed for this expedition. If I call them back this early the press will be up my ass like boatflys on brahmin shit. [ADMINISTRATOR] - Mr President, You have a mega city under the NCR control. You have personal contacts with the Van Graff family now and most of the reno gangs. You've managed to strong arm one the biggest merchant this side of Colorado! Not to mention again the local cohort is in shambles. [WAR-HAWK] - I will meet you the middle, Oliver. You can take your veterans from 7th Battalion. I will also send First Recon too. I'll use my personal connection with the Ranger Chief and send some of those boys in dusters too. I will also give you executive permission to form a new division with those veterans. Furthermore, our seasoned veterans from 3rd Battalion were placed on R&R i'm allocating those troops and their command. Place the lead under Stetson he used to the desert. [ADMINISTRATOR] - I can work with that.