Ok, I'm having terrible writers block with the final chapter in War Never Changes so I decided to work these ideas out of my system so I can think clearly for the ending of that.

But this is not just some secondary project to help me practice with my other fan fic.

Now, if you're not familiar with my large amount of ideas for a Fallout game in the mid west than that's fine due to me repeating myself on established facts, but if you just want to know where the factions are by the end of this fan fic look at the second link in my sig.

Here it goes:
Chapter One: New Persia Part One
My name was Renice (pronounced Ren-is) I remember the attack clearly, it haunts me to this day. The Seizures were one of the craziest raider groups around, they got their name from using so much of the drugs that Scorpion's Tail sells to them that they collapse on the ground and have a seizure. They aren't afraid of anything, attacking all who appose them, and many who don't.
And that day they attacked Temple, a thriving town that had at least one church for every Pre-War religion, and many Post-War too. I was born with a mother who practiced Reaverism and a father who practiced Post Nuclear-Islam. Post-Nuclear Islam believes that Allah has destroyed the world so it can be rebuilt, better and ready for the Messiah. Reaverism is the worship of material things, believing all Pre-War technology is of great importants for a new world.
Both my parents were killed during the attack, they stormed into our house shot them, took the Med-X and stimpacks from the medical cabinent and lit the house on fire. I was upstairs when I smelled the smoke, I had heard the gunshots but I was too scared to go see what it was but I ran down the stairs and saw the fire and my parents corpses. I ran out of the rusted front door, trying not to vomit, and saw a sight far worse than what I could possible have imagined. Corpses littered the street and buildings were ablaze as the Seizures single handedly took everything away from us. I fled to the east and a dozen others did the same. We ran until we were exhausted and we stopped to breath, we all sticked together. Maybe it was fate or maybe it was just a coincidense but I recognized all of the others as people who went to the Islamic church that my father always went to, although it was all of the way across Temple because he grew up going there.
"Hello Renice, what happened to your father?" asked Abdul, the preacher, I told him what happened and he told me he would remember them in his prayers. During the break we decided who our leader was going to be, everybody voted for Abdul. He excepted the role as humbly as one can.

We had wandered for days before we found it, an oasis of sorts in the endless grassland with an asortment of berries, fruits, and small wild-life we all agreed to make camp here. We made a camp, picked the fruit and hunted the animals, survivng. After a couple of days of settling into routine Abdul announced that we should not let the destruction of Temple be the end of our fate so he called for a prayer for those who made it and those who did not. I will admit that I cried during the prayer, I cried for my parents who deserved a proper burial, not turned to ash in their home by fire.
After a couple of weeks of prayer and me doing odd jobs for those who needed it just to keep myself useful Abdul approached me and asked if I wanted to be taught in his ways, to become an apprentice preacher and spread the word of the Lord. I agreed.

Part Two will start a few years later, thank-you for reading!