<strong>Marcus Kincaid narrates upon a black background.</strong><br/><br/><em>So... You want to hear a story, eh? One about treasure hunters? Haha, have I got a story for you! Pandora... This is our home. But make no mistake - this is not a planet of peace and love. They say it's a wasteland, that it's dangerous, that only a fool would search for something of value here. Then perhaps I am a fool. But do not be fooled by what Pandora appears to be. There was a legend... Many people tell it. The legend of the Vault! My father would always go on about the Vault; even with his dying breath. Advanced alien technology. Infinite wealth. Fame. Power. Women. So you can understand why some little kiddos who hear the stories grow up to become Vault hunters. Well, I have a story you may not believe. But I tell you it is true. The legend of the Vault is real! And it is here on Pandora. And a... let's call her a guardian angel appeared to guide the Vault hunters to their prize. The tale begins right here on Pandora, with the brave Vault hunters, the guardian angel and most importantly... Me.</em><br/><br/><strong>An acoustic guitar strums into an apparently blown-out mono speaker.</strong><br/><br/>The white screen fades into the view of a desolate wasteland.  The landscape is little more then dry, arid flatlands and jutting walls of mountain scales, baked into various shades of brown by the hot, unforgiving Pandora sun.  Two massive, brown, jagged mountain peaks on the horizon form an O shape.  The badlands floor before it is nothing more than sand and dust, with the occasional patch of shriveling bush hugging rocks.  There is a road in the dirt, beaten by the rubber wheels of heavy land vehicles.The only sign of “civilization” is a large, decrepit, rusting sign besides the packed dirt road.  It reads “PANDORA; your final destination!” with the picture of a young couple facing to the bright and sunny horizon in the background.  As another piece of the long-abandoned poster falls with a flat, steely clang, something walks through a makeshift doggy door at the bottom of the sign, thanks to another piece of the sign slipping and falling on the ground, creating a kind of ramp.<br/><br/>It’s a skag, one of the many…  Shall we say, unique?  members of the Pandora fauna.  Skags are dog-like creatures, easily identified by their strong bony armor plates, aggressive behavior, and distinctive three-jawed mouths.  It shuffles about, sniffling the steppe-like ground for a moment, before craning its neck back, its three-jawed mouth stretched out into a roar.  Its long, prehensile tongue flickers comically with the vibration of the roar.  Satisfied, it huffs and gallops a few steps, unknowingly stopping right on one of the two distinct tire tracks on the flat Pandora ground.  A second later, a blue blur on wheels blind-sides the skag with a satisfying “splat”.  Where there was once a skag, big bold floating white letters write:<span class="bbc_u">“BASS BX PRESENTS”</span><br/><br/><strong>The impact seems to knock some sense into the speakers; now, the theme song is loud and clear, coming out in full stereo glory.</strong><br/><br/>(Song: Ain’t no rest for the wicked, by Cage the Elephant.)<br/>http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wBgp5aDH23g (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wBgp5aDH23g)<br/><br/>The massive blue transport vehicle that smashed into the skag hit with enough force to embed it, at least temporarily into the thick front bumper.  The dents along the steel frame suggests that this is not the first roadkill this bus has offered Pandora.  The skag’s tongue wags limply out of its mouth as the bus keeps its top speed in the desert.  Right next to the skag, written on the bumper;<span class="bbc_u">“A BORDERLANDS-INSPIRED RP”</span>.  The four-wheeled land transport has five windows on each side, with a sixth for the driver sitting on the left.  A large bay window is in the back, and there are supply crates strapped on the roof.  Every window is covered in heavy steel shutters, limiting sunlight and allowing aeration in such a confined space.  As the camera pans up over the front of the bus, we peek in through the front of the vehicle.  At the helm of the vehicle is the one and only pasty-skinned, chubby-faced, buzz-cut, goatee-wearing Marcus Kincaid: narrator, bus driver, gun<del>hustler</del>dealer, and many, many more things.<br/><br/>(Also, Mad Moxxi’s third husband.  Just…  You know…  Putting that out there.)<br/><br/>Marcus looks back briefly at the four Vault Hunters in his bus.<em>All right back there, time to wake up!</em>He laughs, obviously in a great mood.<em>It's a beautiful day, full of opportunity!</em>He raised his left fist for a moment, as if to make a point.  The camera pans away from the driver to slide towards the back.  The quatuor being transported is difficult to make out from this angle, as shadows play on their figures.  The camera zooms in to take a closer look.<br/><br/>The first Vault Hunter presented is a nice hunk of man meat, sitting on the first bus seat to the right, closest to the folding bus door, looking outside.  A tall man, mightily shouldered and deep of chest, with a massive corded neck and heavily muscled limbs. He is clad in Atlas-issue combat boots, khaki cargo pants and a form-fitting grey t-shirt.  A long, blood-red bandana rests in his square-cut black mane.  His brow is low and broad, his eyes a volcanic blue that smoldered as if with some inner fire. His dark, scarred, almost sinister face was that of a fighting-man, and his simple garments could not conceal the hard, dangerous lines of his muscular, tanned limbs.  His back is flat against the seat, and on his left shoulder rests the short barrel of an assault rifle.  A large combat knife rests in a scabbard strapped behind his waist, at the belt level, with the knife handle to the right.  Crimson Lance dog tags hang from a short chain around his neck, glinting in the morning sunlight.  His eyes turn and narrow to the camera, and his jaw sets aggressively for a moment.  The camera quickly backs off and begins to pan out.  The white letters appear to the left of his head, on a white Crimson Lance logo.<span class="bbc_u"><strong>“ROHN as: The Shock Trooper”</strong></span><br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button"> Rohn Jambo</div><div class="spoiler_body">(http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2011/196/6/7/run_rambo_run_by_themasman-d1mlxxv.jpg)</div></div>