Hi, my name is Sam Edwards and a budding writer. I am a huge fan of Fallout and the Fallout Universe, and have always wanted to write some kind of Fallout literature. I recently planned on writing a Fallout novel, either as a form of re-write of the Fallout canon, or a completely new story set within the timeline and universe of Fallout. I would have wrote this novel, and self-published to Amazon Kindle. But then the dawning realisation hit me, that I would almost definitely be breaking some form of copyright law, and would probably get sued

So until Bethesda find my talent and commission me to write for them, I am showing an interest in fan-fic. This is an idea I recently had, as to continue the story after the events in Fallout: New Vegas. In this narrative, the courier lost his life at the Battle of Hoover Dam, sacrificing his life so the NCR could be victorious.

Attached is a brief blurb, and a very short excerpt from around the third chapter... All first draft form. I am a fairly busy guy (hope that doesn't sound too arrogant!) but this is something I would love to continue in my spare time, but only if demand is high enough and enough interest is shown from other users.
Anyway, let me know what you think. Compliments or constructive criticism always welcome

Fallout: Phoenix Rising

Six months have passed since the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, the bloody conflict that cost the courier his life in return for a New California Republic victory. The federation drove any remaining Caesar’s Legion from the Mojave, and were rewarded by establishing a definitive control over New Vegas and the surrounding lands. Peace, at long last, had come to the Mojave.
But such things never last in the wasteland. Riots have broken out across Freeside, the Brotherhood of Steel have started to re-establish themselves, and a mysterious figure has begun butchering NCR soldiers, leaving their corpses disfigured in the way the Legion once did…
It seems that in this dark and dystopian future, tranquillity is impossible. Because War… War never changes.


Alex remained on his knees, shaking uncontrollably. The stench of death hung in the air, seeping from the bodies that surrounded him, blood soaked and butchered. He glanced down at his friend, at the motionless corpse he had now become. Blood trickled from the bullet hole in his forehead, and his eyes remained open, still the look of shock and horror spread across his face from the moment before his death.
Nervously, Alex turned his head quickly to look in front of him, to see if he could gather from where the gunshot and commanding voices had come from. He scanned the surrounding area, from the mound of bodies to the buildings that had been painted with blood, when a figure stepped forward.
He was tall, menacing and frightful. He wore what appeared to be Caesar’s Legion armour, not that Alex had ever seen such things, but he had heard enough stories to know what it looked like. But it appeared different; chalked black, yet still looked metallic. He strode with the air of pride and arrogance, walking straight towards him.
The figure stopped right in front of him, and spoke in a deep voice, ‘Whom do your allegiances lay?’
‘What?’ stuttered Alex, daring not to look up at his face.
The man grabbed at Alex by the collar, and dragged him to his feet. At the same time, he unsheathed a large blade, and pointed it straight at his cheek. Over the sound of Alex’s whimpers, and almost face-to-face with him now, the figure repeated ‘I ask again, who do you support? Do you follow the cowardly Bear, the NCR?’

Hmm, good idea. If you don't mind, I would like to point out a few things.

As a "semi-professional" writer, you make an awful lot of grammar/typo mistakes. In addition, I think you would know how to separate your story in paragraphs. It's not easy to read a block of text, such as your excerpt (and yes, that's how you spell excerpt. ).

For example: "motionless corpses" Corpse usually implies that it's motionless. Unnecessary adjectives will weigh your story down.

"The stench of death hung in the air, seeping from the bodies that surrounded him, blood soaked and butchered"

Blood soaked through his pants and he could feel it slowly coating his skin. The stench of death, emanating from the butchered bodies around him, hung thick and heavy in the air.

"Nervously, Alex his head turned quickly..."

Show, don't tell. Avoid adjective and adverbs, if you can show how he feels through his actions. And it should be either Alex turned his head quickly or He turned quickly. Don't use "his head turned" which is an disembodied motion and never sits well with the readers.

Good story idea though! I would like to read the first paragraph of your first chapter. See how it all starts.

Besides that, I understand your fascination with the Fallout Universe. I also thought of starting a novel about a post-apocalyptic world, not set in the Fallout Universe though.

Hey, thanks for the constructive criticism, it's what I was looking for! Firstly, with the block of text, when I wrote it out on Word, it did have paragraph spacing and tabs etc, but it obviously hasn't copied well, that's my own fault for not previewing the post before I posted it. If I post any more, I will make sure that is amended

And yeah, it is a really early first draft, I would usually go over it and double check for spelling/grammar and often re-write, but I see where you're coming from and once again appreciate it

don't worry about the spacing man, the same thing happend to me when I first started on the forum. The story looks interesting and I look forword to more

So this is the Prologue to Fallout: Phoenix Rising. A first chapter should follow in the coming days


Prologue

It was a grim evening in the Mojave, on the long stretch of Highway 95. There was a cold breeze in the air that chilled the bones, and sinister rainclouds hovered above, covering the night sky and threatening to erupt at any moment.

The sound of voices and laughing broke the evening hush. It was with jovial spirits that three men came staggering down the road, resting on each other’s shoulders and singing merry songs. They were NCR officers situated at the nearby HELIOS One station, taking the night off to enjoy a few drinks in the company of joyous but desperate women. It had been six months since the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, which each of the men had been at and survived, and since that time their usefulness as soldiers and as officers had all but been extinguished; there was no need for fighters in a time for peace. So they languished there time guarding the facility; whom they were guarding it from was a mystery, as no-one still remained who would challenge the NCR these days.

Tom was the oldest of the three men, those being Alex and Detrius respectively, and he was also the highest ranking. He found it the hardest being at a guard’s post where nothing ever happened; he quickly began to resent the facility, and grew bitterer with each passing day. So it was with great relief that on the six month anniversary of their great victory at the Dam, that him and his two closest friends go out into the Mojave, to well and truly enjoy themselves.

They slowly walked down the road, with the occasional swagger or sway, confident in the knowledge that they were untouchable.

‘I think… I think she really liked you,’ laughed Alex suddenly, interrupting songs of an immature nature.

‘Who?’ asked Tom.

‘That girl. That… um… you know, the fat one,’ he replied with a grin, almost falling over sideways.

‘Yeah she was gagging for it,’ said Detrius, pushing Tom playfully but almost knocking him over.

They all embraced and laughed, continuing down the barren stretch of road. But it was Tom that saw them first, and they made him stop dead in his tracks. The other two walked on for a moment, oblivious to anything, before they noticed his abrupt stop, and followed his gaze to the road in front of them.

Standing some way down the road were three figures, motionless in the dark. It looked as though they were facing their direction, though they could not be certain.
Tom and his two friends exchanged glances, before he called out to them ‘Who goes there? Announce yourselves!’ Silence followed, and the three NCR troops glanced nervously at each other once more. They had nothing to fear of course; the NCR had taken control of the Mojave, everyone knew that. The last of the Caesar’s Legion had been rounded up and executed, the remnants of the Brother of Steel were working alongside the NCR, and none now remained who would challenge them. Still, rational thought prevailed and they moved their fingers down to their holsters… Just in case.

‘I asked who goes there!’ repeated Tom, shouting into the night. ‘We are NCR, and we are not to be messed with.’

The three figures in front of them slowly stepped forward. Before another word could be uttered, the sight of two of the men raising their weapons could be seen, and in a flash gunshots echoed across the night. Detrius took two to the chest, and dropped instantaneously. Alex had his weapon half way outstretched, when a bullet tore through his skull. Blood splattered, and as Tom lifted his gun upwards, he caught a bullet through the shoulder, tearing through flesh and muscle. He dropped his weapon instantly, collapsing to the floor with a scream.

He lay there for a moment in agony, pain surging through his body. He glanced upwards, and a figure stood over him, watching him. He had never seen such a man; tall and menacing, and cold ruthless eyes. He wore what appeared to be Caesar’s Legion armour, but it seemed distorted and burnt, and splashed with what could only be assumed to be blood.

The man reached into his sheathe and pulled out a blade, bringing it down to Tom’s temple where he let it rest.

‘The Bear will be punished. You will all pay,’ spoke the figure, his voice deep and emotionless.

‘Who… Who are you?’ stammered Tom, the pain in his shoulder almost unbearable.

The man bent down closer, and Tom looked deep into his eyes, seeing the anger and revulsion clear as day.

‘I am the Phoenix. Our vengeance will be terrible.’ With that, he lifted his blade, and brought it down on Tom with such tremendous force. He was beheaded instantly, his life wiped out in a bloody mess.

The three men stood still for a moment, surveying the scene. When they were satisfied with the death they had caused, they disappeared into the night, as silently as they had come.