Outpost Sierra-Whiskey 109 callsign Archeron; one of the furthest reaches Anselmo has, or better yet "had", some time ago. It brought part of Anselmo's "safe" territory to a point, earning it the moniker The Edge of Elysium or Anselmo's Spear since anything beyond it was considered Hell and its defenses were fairly efficient in keeping anything that got close to it at bay. Minefields stretched a mile or so in front and to its sides with sentry towers posted along the way, some offering simple pleasantries like food, water and hygienic goods, others offering fuel or a place to rest for a couple hours. A few dirt trails offered effective movement through these fields as did the transportation whose mapping units were dotted with all mine locations. To its sides were towers retrofitted for large artillery. Though ammunition scarce, it did offer a bit reassurance for whatever managed to call Archeron home. A small village had been set up after its construction and many of its rugged civilians had taken up the position of scavenger whose sole purpose was to travel into the barren world in search for anything that could be beneficial to the post.

As a younger lad, James was such a boy. However, at age 10 he was too young to go venturing out into the Wild Wood but instead would pretend to be one of those rangers or scavengers with his friends as they ran about the outpost, pretending to out in the Wild Wood. As real as the threat was of possible attacks, it did offer a bit of lightheartedness to those who stayed in the outpost. Seeing a child enjoy the smaller things in life all the while fairly ignorant to how serious their "games" were to the rangers who would stop by the outpost before venturing out into the unholy terra before them. It was during one of his games with his friends did he start to take notice. When he was supposedly being "eaten" by his friends as monsters, a ranger had managed to catch a small portion of their fun before breaking down, dropping to his knees and sobbing. It was around then he begun asking questions about what happened outside of their outpost and other relative inquiries. His father, being a former ranger turned mechanic sat him down and slowly explained over time what James' games meant to those who traveled through and told the young Nathan about his own personal experiences. He soon stopped playing but told his father he wanted to be like him, like when he was a ranger. His father refused to see his son turn out like so many rangers did mentally, or worse. But this didn't stop the boy's ambitions.

When he came of scavenging age, around 18 years old, he volunteered for the next venture out. He had heard from a previous expedition that their was a cache out there, some 20 odd miles into the nothingness that held what could be considered the holy grail of technological recovery to date. However, the trek to such a place was considered too dangerous and practically suicide. "We went in with a group of 13. A few rangers, one or two guardians, a medic and a handful of scavengers. Kid...The sights and sounds I heard...what happened to our group...You're not coming back the same way...Not by a fucking longshot." What the guardian had told him sent chills down his spine but he didn't feel scared. No, this was different...Excitement? Maybe that was it. The fear of what could be out in the empty wastelands filled his head with ideas and despite holding back a smile, a subtle twinkle in his eye could be seen.

It was a few weeks later and his first venture into the Wild had come about. The expedition team had rolled through and went by TR-110 callsign Titan. A fairly experienced team aside from the few other scavengers within the group with Captain Abraham Hopkins leading the pack. The man held much respect and a commanding order that James was in awe of him. The others that would accompany him were Lt. Atermis Wilson, an asshole from the south/southwest side of Anselmo, Srgt. Jessi Duvae a rehabilitated girl from the Wild Wood and excellent navigation officer as well as mechanic, and privates Henry Dawson the Medic and Kevin Dirk, or Joker as many considered him. These names may not mean anything to anyone else, but to James, these were some of the closest people he knew, and the ones whose deaths held the most meaning. It was an awakening, a reality check; clarification that life outside of Anselmo's grasp was not what he originally imagined. It was gritty, gory and full of negative emotions.

It was during this "super cache" search and James' arrogance and ambition that got most of the team killed. Three miles out from their objective in the old abandoned city of Epsilon. They were rumors going around Archeron that going through the ruined city was suicide since packs of Duvari ran through there as they were one of many hunting grounds. Despite Abrahams warnings, James broke away from the group and ventured into the city, armed with only a magnum revolver and a few flares. James was lucky in the aspect that Abraham had decided to stop and make camp, otherwise, Titan would never had heard the screeching of Duvari, followed by the sound of gunshots. So the team went in, in search of "that stupid little arrogant shit".

He had stumbled upon a pack of Duvari grazing. He had never seen these creatures before and when one turned, "baring" its fangs at him (unknown to him their protruding fangs are apart of their anatomy and somewhat of a deterrent for other monsters), he open fired, causing the pack to turn on him and a firefight breaking out into the streets of the abandoned city. However, the fighting and sounds echoed through the city with vigor and drew the attention of a wandering Leviathan, not to mention small packs of carnivorous creatures. It was apparent something big had closed in on them if the roar rumbling the ground meant anything. With this, the team evacuated from the city and headed back towards Archeron save for Atermis, Henry and their captain Abraham. This would not be the last time James would see this Leviathan. The second time he saw it, would be when he lost his father and most that lived in Archeron, hence "The Day the Spear Shattered".

Fast forward 5 years into his scavenging career he had eventually made a name for himself within the outpost and some of the surrounding ones as well, considered a capable and silent individual who could get in and out of an area with relative ease. Sadly the past had not escaped him, especially with Titan as word of his arrogance still traveled around the outposts. Thus, he was, despite his skills, considered a liability that many did not want to carry on their shoulders. James decided it was time to leave the outposts and head to Anselmo and join their military. That way, he could continue to do what he liked to do, start with a somewhat clean slate and work in a group once more, whether they wanted to or not. The next transport out of Archeron was the following day and when it came, he left for Anselmo.

Fast forward to the age of thirty-one, James had been apart of Team Sierra-Victor One Four Four which had been codenamed "Jester". They had completed 28 successful missions whether it be salvage expeditions or search and rescue. Jester was to head for Archeron, debriefed on the way and then head northeast to their objective. It had been about a few hours after they arrived did it happen. Massive earthshaking footsteps followed by explosions, a roar that was unquestionably familiar in James' ears. It was that thing, that thing from long ago had managed to wander into Archeron territory. This was when the outposts defenses let loose. During the firefight against this thing, it had without resistance, bust past the retrofitted walls and down onto a nearby mechanics shop, his father's shop. He quickly made his way to what was left, only to find that his father had been smeared across the ground. Emotions were all over the place and he couldn't figure out what to do. Not until his captain ordered a retreat, leaving the rest of Archeron to fall to this monstrosity.

He would never forget that day, nor the first time he witnessed death outside of the outpost, when he traveled to Epsilon. It haunts his memories. The screams of terror, the sound of gunpowder igniting and the boom of cannons and explosions. But what scared him the most was the ear deafening roar from the leviathan. That sound forever etched into his psyche. The sight of his father's....remains. Everything remains so clear to him. This was five years ago. He is thirty five now and had been transferred to Kilo Victor Seven Three. He has begun questioning why he still remains with the rangers. Maybe to help inspire the greenhorns? To provide a reality to those who dream of adventure in the Wild? Who knows. If there is a God, only he does. For now however, he will travel into the Wild with his brothers and sisters in arms, being their guardian angel when needed, and the angel of death to those who dare threaten them.