The first six months were the most physically taxing.

In the morning's Marcus took physical fitness training. They ran five miles to build stamina, then they enter the 'gym' to work on building muscle mass. finally they study nutritional information and what to eat to grow and maintain peak physical and mental performance. Every friday the trainers would have the New Bloods go through a long and arduous obstacle course.

Marcus also spent a few days taking shooting/melee combat class just to cover the basics, like how to reload Fang for example. He also noticed that roughly more than a third of New Bloods stopped taking physical fitness training, saing the training was too difficult. Those New Bloods focused more on the combat classes, which Marcus thought was the wrong decision.

For afternoon training Marcus took survival class. He learned basic techniques like how to find and gather water, how to tie knots, and how to start a fire, and make a variety of different fires for various situations. Marcus also learned to forage for food in different climates, from edible plants and mushrooms, to insects and small game. By showing up early he was also taught things one on one like trapmaking, reading tracks, and how to stay hidden from predators.

Night classes he took language/writing. Since he already knew how to read and write, he went in early and asked the trainer if there was another language he should know?

"Hmm... No one has asked me that in a number of years A-84, but yes there is. It's called 'Low Speech'. Aptly named because it is used by raiders, bandits, cutthroats, and other scum to hide their real intent. If they feel other's might be listening in, or if they send letters of vital importance, they use low speech. Most groups of ruffians have slight differences in their speech compared to one another, but if you nail down the core dialect, you can get the general idea about what their saying. Come to class an hour early and I can teach it to you. Just don't completely slack off during actual lessons, alright?"

During his two days of free time, instead of relaxing, or going to the marketplace for food and drinks, he would go over what he learned that week, and really internalize the information.

After six months of rigorous training the New Bloods were ordered to gather outside the east gate. When they arrive they are briefed about the first 'basic' test.

"For your first test you will travel eastward into the wasteland for six hours. Then you will survive anyway you can for three days. Finally you will make your way back to the training facility, and write a detailed report on your experience. You will be provided with a locator, backpack with a mess kit, tent, half a day of water, and a knife. If you feel unable to continue, simply press the button on the locator, and we will retrieve you. Using the locator is an automatic fail, and if we feel your results are unsatisfactory, you will also fail. Your test begins now."

Marcus looked out at the wasteland in front of him. Like most of the Drylands the area was a mixture of sand dunes, and arid shrublands.

As the New Bloods started moving, over time they slowly spread out. After an hour, other than Porter who stuck by him like glue, Marcus didn't see anyone else. After two hours Marcus could faintly make out dust trails of trucks coming from Devil Maw, stopping, and going back. It was clear that they were picking up people that used the locator. Over the course of six hours Marcus saw the trucks make at least 20 trips. By this time, Marcus and Porter have finished off all their water. Hot, and tired, they waste no time finding an ideal place to make camp.

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The duo ultimately settle on the bottom of a steep hill. After setting up their tents they went to collect water. The reason they chose this spot in particular is because they spotted a small congregation of various wildlife like small marsupials, rodents, and insects. Digging a two foot deep hole, they hit damp sand. After waiting awhile a pool of water formed which they collected every couple of hours with their mess kit pots.

While they wait, Porter collected cactus fruit, cactus pads, and wood for a fire. Marcus scavenged around for food, collecting various scorpions, beetles, and grasshoppers. During the evening, they made two small holes in the ground and made a tunnel connecting the holes. They built a fire in one hole while the other fed air into the fire. This way the fire won't be visible, and the smoke will be minimal.

Porter boils off the water they collected, and roasted the food they collected. Marcus makes, and sets up a few snare traps around the hole they dug before going to sleep in shifts with Porter.

On the second day, not much changed, the snares didn't catch anything, but they did collect enough food and water. Marcus did also spot more trucks coming and going in the area.

On the third morning they went to collect enough water for their walk back to Devil Maw, when they reached the water hole Marcus noticed one of his snares caught a small fox, that is now being feasted on by a large mutant hound. They quickly took cover to think on their next move.

"We could just make our way back Marcus, we still have a few cactus fruit left?"

"That won't be enough, and you know it. We aren't in as good of shape as when we trekked out here, and it was miserable then. No, we have to get water. besides if we kill it and can cook it, we'll finally get some real protein in us. It's distracted so we can get the jump on it, as long as we can control its neck, it won't be able to bite us."

"Alright Marcus, i'll follow your lead."

Marcus and Porter slowly made their way closer to the hound, using the shrubs in the area to keep out of sight. Once Marcus felt they were close enough he gave the signal.

Porter sprinted out of their hiding place at breakneck speed. The hound was distracted from eating, and was one step too slow to respond. Porter throws himself at the hound, tackling it to the ground onto its side. Marcus then runs up and pins the struggling hounds head with his elbow and forearm right where the hounds jaw meets its neck. Marcus then takes his knife and plunged it into the dogs neck sending a burst of blood hitting his chest. As the hound makes it's final struggle Marcus hears Porter murmur.

"Shh shh shh, it's alright boy, it's going to be alright. Just go to sleep, that's it. You're a good boy."

As the hound eventually dies, Marcus turns to look at Porter.

"You going to be okay, man?"

"Yea yea i'm fine. Just don't like killing dogs, puts a bad taste in my mouth."

"It's alright Porter I understand. You'll probably have to get used to it though. Were going to be mercenaries. Extermination jobs will be quite common, and mutant dog packs can be quite the menace."

Porter sighs.

"I know Marcus. By the way, you were pretty swift with your moves just now. Have you done this before?"

"Kinda, what we just did is the same way I used to hunt rad rats with the other kids in the settlement I grew up in. Anyhow, let's gather and boil the water, cook up some of this hound, and head out. I want to make as much headway as we can before the heat starts to slow us down."

They quickly finish cleaning up their camping area, and start heading back to Devil Maw. As they traveled they realized it was a lot hotter than the first day. Marcus is glad he had enough water for the trek back, and some meat for energy. After six grueling hours Marcus and Porter finally arrive back at the training facility, barely able to stand. In the courtyard was an assortment of desks with paper and pencils on them.

As they enter one of the trainer's approach them, with a big shit-eating grin on his face.

"You must now write a detailed report on what you experienced on your mission, and how you survived. You got one hour."

If looks could kill, the daggers Marcus was staring at his trainer would have made him a murderer a thousand times over.