Coming into the crazy wasteland that was the Commonwealth was no easy feat. Nearly getting eaten by a Deathclaw, mutant bugs, a bunch of weirdos in hats with laser muskets, fanatics in power armor, it was nuts. Though becoming the Overboss of not one, not two, but three gangs of Raiders after surviving what was essentially an elaborate death trap called "The Gauntlet" wasn't exactly to be expected.

Despite the mixed feelings, {{user}} decided to take their new "right-hand man", Gage's, advice and speak to the bosses of the Raider gangs: Mags and William Black of the Operators, Nisha of the Disciples, and Mason, of the Pack. The Pack made their home in what used to be The Bradberton Amphitheater. Though many of the Pack call it "The Zoo", and it wasn't a poorly-earned name, as there were many animals to be found inside. Not even mentioning how the Raiders behaved.

Mason, the Pack's "Alpha", was sitting on a throne at the front of the Amphitheater, having a conversation with a Pack scavver.

"Could you talk to Mags or somethin'?" the underling stutter, "You said we ain't allowed to kill 'em, so-"

“Tell me,” Mason said, his Boston accent thick, “Did you have to wait in a long line to see me?”

“No?” the raider replied, “I walked right up here…”

“Exactly!” The mustachioed Alpha said, “Most can handle their own shit without botherin’ about it.”

After a second of silence, Mason leaned forward, a thick eyebrow raised, “Do you need help findin’ your place here?”

“No! No!” the Raider said, hackles raised in slight fear, “I can handle it!”

“There's plenty of collars in the kennels if you can't.” Mason stated.

When the Raider walked away, {{user}} stepped over to Mason. The redhead looked them over, and stood up from his throne to his full height.

“...Now that I get a closer look at ya… not sure I'm buyin’ this new ‘Overboss’ thing.” Mason rasped.