Name: Mordecai Xavier Fawkes

Age: 25

Height: 5’11”

Weight: 210 Lbs (muscles weigh more than fat)

Physical Appearance: He is Caucasian of a muscular build with wide shoulders. He has shaggy (though not long) white hair, though his eyebrows and soul patch are both black. He has complete Heterochromia, with his right eye being navy blue, and his left eye being amber colored. He has a slight cleft chin and a large scar under his left eye. http://i96.photobucket.com/albums/l171/pardon_me_miss/IMG_20110222_213358.jpg.

Armor / Clothing: He wears red combat armor with a large slash across the chest plate, and the fabric underneath the plates is black. The sleeve on his left arm is full length, and he also has armored plates on his left forearm and the back of his left hand over a fingerless black glove. His right sleeve is regular length for combat armor, and he has a black leather wristband on his right wrist, as well as one steel ring on each finger on his right hand. He has a piercing in his left ear, and wears an eye patch over his left eye (it has full vision, but is extremely sensitive to light).

Weapons: Primary: A Hunting Rifle with an extended magazine, a custom action, and a scope. Carved into the right side of it’s stock is the words, R.I.P. Jacob and Terrence. It’s slung over his back.
Secondary: A Single Shotgun with a sawn-off stock and shortened barrel which hangs horizontally over the small of his back.
Sidearm: A .45 Auto Pistol, with an HD Slide, and a detachable silencer which is holstered halfway down his right thigh.
Melee: A Chinese officer’s sword, which is sheathed on his left hip. Held in right hand to dual wield.
Melee 2: A Trench Knife which is sheathed on his right hip. Held in left hand to dual wield.

Skills / Abilities: He is a skilled marksman, and also an excellent melee combatant. He is capable of shrugging of most small wounds, and has excellent endurance, due to his combat training in the Crimson Hounds. His left eye is extremely sensitive to light, even to the point that if it’s uncovered during the day it causes him great pain, so he wears an eye patch. This sensitivity to light can also be a boon to him however, as he can uncover it at night, and it’ll look as bright as day.

Faction: Mercenary

Bio: As a child, he always looked up to his father who was the leader of a well-known mercenary company, the Crimson Hounds. The company was known for breeding gargantuan, red-furred dogs, and unleashing them upon their enemies. When he turned ten, Mordecai, who had begun to use the nickname ‘Dex’ (derived from the ‘dec’ part of his name) was given his own puppy, which he named Zeke. From then onwards he began training to follow in his father’s footsteps in order to eventually become the leader of the Crimson Hounds.

In the beginning of his training, he was immature, and when Zeke got big enough, Dex even rode him around, receiving laughs from many of the other mercs. After a severe scolding from his father, he began to learn more seriously, becoming an excellent marksman with all manner of firearms, and even learning how to engage in hand to hand and melee combat. Some of the lessons were for both Dex and Zeke, because his instructors believed that the hound must be trained by his master themselves, in order to foster a bond of trust and loyalty. Dex showed remarkable ability in this, and so Zeke remained his most loyal companion even through the troubles that were ahead, never once disobeying his master.

By age eighteen he was receiving his first missions, and had a partner assigned to him, named Jacob, and Jacob’s dog, Terrence. After three missions together, the group was sent after a crazed NCR soldier who had went AWOL. After reaching his compound, they engaged him in combat, and one of the soldier’s shots grazed Dex under his left eye (which caused his scar), and hit Jacob in the neck. Dex and the dogs finished off the soldier quickly, and returned to Jacob to find he had bled out. Terrence lay down next to his master, and showed no signs of leaving, being gravely wounded and having lost the only person that had ever mattered to him. Dex, understanding, leveled his hunting rifle to fire off one shot, ending the poor beast, and then etched their names forever onto his rifle.

When he turned twenty-four, his father was ‘killed in action,’ though in reality he was killed by his second in command David Alexander, who wished to take over the mercenary company. Dex, who was supposed to take over, was stonewalled by Alexander’s supporters, who claimed he was responsible for the deaths of his teammates, and in the end, Alexander successfully took control of the Crimson Hounds. A year later, the NCR has sent out an invitation for settlers and mercenaries to head east to Spear City, and Alexander believed it to be the perfect solution to dealing with Dex, sending him as the leader of a small squad of the Crimson Hounds to heed the NCR’s call.

Name: Dominic Isaac Tanner

Age: 21

Height: 5’9”

Weight: 165

Physical Appearance: He is half Caucasian and half Native American, and his skin is very light. His hair is a ruddy brown, and is kept neatly in a buzz cut style with medium length sideburns. His face is usually clean shaven, though he occasionally forgets, and his eyes are an amber color, with dark lines underneath them due to lack of sleep. There is a light dusting of freckles over his nose and upper cheeks. His right arm is cloaked in a black tribal tattoo that almost completely covers his arm from shoulder to wrist. He is of an athletic though not overly muscular build, which marks him as being quicker than he is strong.

Armor / Clothing: Blue jeans with reinforced knees, a black leather belt with a large steel belt buckle depicting a bear, black steel toe boots, a dark grey tank top which is too long, and ends mid-thigh, a black sleeveless zip-up hoodie, a tan bandolier to hold dynamite, fingerless black gloves, a red bandana tied around his left upper arm, a bandana with a skull print worn over the bottom half of his face, black goggles with orange lenses, and a yao guai tooth necklace.

Weapons: Primary: A jet black assault carbine with an extended magazine and a silencer, which is slung over his shoulder.

Sidearm: A .45 Auto Pistol with an HD slide and a detachable silencer which is kept in a black holster midway down his right thigh.

Explosives: A bandolier full of dynamite and a stainless steel zippo to light the fuses.

Melee: A broad machete made of steel with a red hardwood handle, which is kept in a tan, leather sheath on his left hip.

Ranged melee: A single Native American tomahawk which is mainly used as a throwing weapon, but can also be used in close quarters when necessary. It is held in a tan leather sheath on his right hip, above his pistol.

Skills / Abilities: He is skilled with small arms, explosives, and one - handed melee weapons. He is very light and fast, and is also capable of jumping fairly high, having spent much of his life chasing after prey in order to feed his tribe.

Faction: Ex -Tribal / Settler

Bio: Dominic was born in a tribal, bear worshipping community known as Berskden, located in Arizona. His people were nomads who were constantly packing up their tents, and moving on to areas with more food and less danger of being discovered by the Legion, who would no doubt force them to take part in the war with the NCR. The tribe’s Chief, Geoffrey, whom was also Dominic’s father, truly believed this was the best path for the time being, as he wished to lead a peaceful tribe, though his shaman wished for other things.

The shaman, Gordon, was the spiritual advisor of the community, and was almost as revered as the Chief. This respect was able to draw a small amount of followers who were devoted to him, instead of Geoffrey, and they arranged for a rendezvous with a Legion patrol. Through this meeting, the Legion learned of the community and it’s locations, deciding to force them to join the Legion the next day. Dominic’s father had become wary of the shaman recently, due to a slip of the tongue he had made, and had set Dominic to spy on the group. So it was that Dominic witnessed the exchange, and the unprovoked and bloody executions of the group of traitors by the Legion. He ran back to where his people had set up their temporary village, and warned his father who realized there would not be enough time to pack up there camp, and they would have to fight.

Later that same night, Dominic was sent out as a guide for the younger children, ordered to bring them west to a small cave set into a hill near a lake. This was the place of his birth, and had always been used as a permanent storage for the Berskden, who never wandered too far from the place. There the group found a plentiful supply of smoked meats, and purified water held in clay jugs, so Dominic told the oldest of the children to watch over the others, and not to go outside until he had returned, or if three days had passed, in which case they were to head west.

Dominic headed back east, towards his tribe, fearing he would be too late. Running as fast as he could, he arrived at a scene of carnage, though it was difficult to tell how many had fallen from either side. He could still see some fighting going on around the Chief’s tent, where a small group of legionnaires were engaging the remaining Berskden warriors. Dominic could see that the Legion was clearly winning, but he pulled out his machete and rushed forward anyway, spotting his father in the confusion halfway there. Geoffrey looked at his son in an apologetic way, then held up several sticks of dynamite and lit them near the base of the fuse. The ensuing blast decimated everyone around the tent, and propelled Dominic backwards, and he looked back at the spot where he had last seen his father with tears in his eyes.

A piece of metal fell right onto his lap, and he grabbed it and began to sob openly. The piece of metal was his father’s prized belt buckle, which bore the likeness of the beast they worshipped. After attaching it to his own belt, he began to head back west towards the children of his tribe. Over the next several years he brought the children as far west as the NCR capitol of Shady Sands, before heading east once more. He settled in the Mojave and worked as a caravan guard, relishing every opportunity he received to shoot at Legion patrols that had made it past the river. Eventually, the Legion was defeated, and he eventually heard of a new city that had sprung up in what was once Legion territory. He decided he would head there, to start a new life in Spear City.

(This is not a great bio, as it is a synopsis of the fan – fiction I’m currently writing. Hopefully I’ll find the time to make better progress on that and eventually after it’s cleaned up, I’ll post it on the forums.)

Name: Warren Clyde

Age: 22

Race:Caucasian

Height: 5'10

Weight: 145Lbs

Physical Appearance: Warren stands at a decent 5'10 with jet black, naturally spiked up hair. Due to his slender frame, he has a lean build and is quite agile. He also has fairly tanned and has deep, hazel colored eyes.

http://i1141.photobucket.com/albums/n589/Drop__Deadz/775515-warren_large.jpg

Armor / Clothing: Warren wears a simple vest with a white undershirt, along with black faded pants. He is also usually sporting a red bandanna.

Weapons: Two Sawed-off Shotguns, a modified assault carbine with a slimmed-down barrel and close-range scope, and a unique Machete engraved in Greek with the saying "Χαρακτ?ρα? εν?? ανθρ?που ε?ναι η μο?ρα του". ("A man's character is his fate.")

Skills / Abilities:

Warren's skill with a blade is unmatched; Any enemy that can come within striking distance is usually slaughtered down without hesitation. At long range, Warren is a terrible shot. He tends to stick to up close encounters where he can work his blade and Sawed-offs in the most efficient way possible.

Though he can be rather efficient in up-front conflict, Warren prefers stealthy and tactical approaches when engaging enemies. Hes cunning, and knows how to blend in with the shadows.

Faction: Mercenary

Bio:

In a post-apocalyptic world, Warren had what most would call a "normal" childhood. He was born and raised from the age to a young couple on the edge of California. His parents hated the NCR with a burning passion, choosing to live just outside NCR borders as to evade their so called "laws" and "government". Whenever Warren questioned one of them about the NCR, they ignored his questions, never actually revealing just what was so wrong about them.

From the age of six, Warren was trained by his father to sport a blade. The old mans skills were exquisite; His form perfect. His talent came from generations of teaching; Each father continuing the tradition and teaching his own son with the skills necessary for survival. The blade he wield was equally exquisite; A family heirloom that too was passed from generation to generation. Warren was a natural; able to surpass his own father by the age of eleven.

His parents also taught him something that many others within the wasteland lacked; Virtues. They raised him to be kind, courteous, and generous; Hoping there teachings would raise him to become one of the few respectable human beings within the wasteland.

By the age of 18, Warren had learned all that he could from his parents. They wished for him to go, to leave them, and use their teachings to help make the wastes a better place. But he couldn't bring himself to abandon them. In their old age, the couple had become weak, fragile. If he left, they would hardly be able to survive on what little strength they had left.

But it seemed Fate had other plans for him.

It was not soon after Warren's 18th birthday that a large band of raiders assaulted the small families home, Swarming around the small ranch ike moths to a lightbulb. Warren and his father took arms and attempted to hold them off, but they were brutally outnumbered. It didn't seem normal for a band this large to attack such a small settlement, and Warren knew it. They wanted something.

Fought as they may, both Warren's mother and father were gunned down; And then without another word, the raiders vanished into the night. Warren screamed into the shadows, demanding the cowards to return and finish the job. But they were gone; Leaving him without a family, and without a home.

As he knelt down beside his father, still slightly breathing, the old man bestowed his blessing unto his sole heir. He told Warren how proud he was of him, of what he had become. He handed the young man his prize family heirloom, the Machete, and with his last dying breath, urged Warren to always remember and uphold the virtues they had taught him.

Then the body fell, lifeless, in Warren's arms, leaving him all alone in cold, unforgiving wasteland.

Years after the incident, Warren crossed into NCR territory, hoping to find a way to live out his fathers dreams and actually better what little of the world was left. He eventually became a freelance mercenary, expelling the wicked, saving others, and upholding the virtues that his parents had held so dear.

As the NCR began to spread East, after the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, they had an overwhelming need for mercenaries to assist them in creating new settlements and protecting the ones they had already set up. Without a second thought, Warren took up the call, and headed East, towards some settlement known as "Spear City".

Name: Charlie Moore

Age: 28

Height: 5’10

Weight: 185lbs

Physical Appearance: Light Build, medium length strawberry blond hair swept the left, grey eyes, nice teeth.

Apparel: Jeans, T-Shirt, Plaid Collared Over Shirt, Black Cap, Horn Rimmed Shades

Weapons: M9

Misc: A cart filled with Hydroponic Farming Equipment, Tools, Cook set, Brewery, Generator, Spare Clothes

Skills: Hunting, Farming, Trapping, Ranching, Mechanical, Cooking, Firearms, Repair

Faction: NCR, Rancher

Bio: Born in a small farming community in loosely NCR territory 28 years ago his family got by with not a lot. Merchants only came by a few times a year and the going was pretty rough. By age 10 he had learned how to cook, brew, hunt, trap, and fix all the damn things on the farm so that life could go about as normal when there was not much to get by on. Life was quite plain on the farm, though he and his friends were able to get away with a lot of things city folk wouldn’t have been allowed to. But things changed, and they changed quite suddenly. Brahmin Barons began gobbling up all the land and to make matters worse his Father Passed. Mother quickly remarried scared that the land would surely disappear without a “real” family in it. They would surely say the land was not going to be worked and snatch it without even paying the meager price. The man she married, Jason Gravel quickly sold both his own property hers as well as a few other plots he had bought up to the Barons for a hefty sum. He left with all the money.

Things got even worse the NCR came round asking why the land which had been sold hadn’t had taxes paid on it for the sale. Mother being the one with the deed to the various properties was quickly jailed for tax evasion, fraud, as well as being slammed with other charges that were all made up such as mistreatment of animals, and unsafe condition on the farm. His 2 brothers joined the NCR Army and his sister disappeared. Being only 16 at the time Charlie was taken into custody by the proper authorities and given a meager existence in a shelter for youth. He would trap small animals within the city limits and eat them and sell them so that life wouldn’t be so crappy.

Two years passed and being of legal age he was kicked from the youth shelter and onto the streets. With little money he had saved he bought an M9 pistol which he still has, he started using it to hunt larger animals like badgers and started selling bush meat for living. He set up a small stand and would hawk his wares every week at nearby markets. 8 years passed like this until finally the NCR destroyed the shack he called home and destroyed his stall since he did not have a permit to be a vendor. He happened across an advertisemant later that day for “Spear City” and how you could have a new life there a fresh start in settled Legion Territory. He thought something like might be the perfect opportunity for exactly that a new life.

Going downtown to find out more about this, he overheard a conversation about a rich Jason Gravel who had thrown a party for some Brahmin Barons in a cottage to the north. It turned out after investing that money he had gotten 12 years ago Jason had struck big in stocks. Charlie traveled north doing odd jobs until he managed to make his way to the cottage which was also the home of Jason Gravel. He confronted him, shot him and made off with thousands of dollars in NCR currency. He bought himself all the necessary equipment he thought needed for a new life in “Spear City” and headed off hoping to strike big.

Name: Charlie Aurora

Age: 21

Height: 6' 0"

Weight: 190 lbs

Physical Appearance: Heavy build, Light tanned skin, Short red hair

Armor / Clothing: Assassin Suit,

Weapons: Plasma Rifle, Sniper Rifle, Plasma Pistol

Skills / Abilities: Mechanical, Eagle Eye, Repair, Firearms, Scavenger

Faction: Mercenary

Bio: When Charlie was nine a group of raiders attacked his small settlement far north of New Vegas. They killed his parents and fellow settlers but spared him for the miner fact that he was a child (apparently these raiders had morals). He soon became a scavenger, picking at nothing but dust trying to find his next meal. Over the years however he grew accustomed to his profession and he could find almost anything just simply by experience. He settled once again when he was fifteen in Goodsprings but soon realized that settling only brought back his cursed past. He suffered for many years becoming sick and mentally ill, a lost cause in many eyes. He turned twenty and the town had become tired of him hoping to sell him off to slavers. Charlie sat in his small house with a pistol in hand ready to end his life before any slavers could do it for him. But when he peered out the cracked window he saw what he had wished for his whole life. He looked the eldest slaver in the face and recognized the man, these men were the raiders who had killed his parents. He marched out of the house and slaughtered every last one of them with the pistol that was to end his life. Charlie ripped the Assassin Suit from the Eldest and took all the mens weapons. He found his calling, he would kill for a living, he would be a mercenary.....

Name: James "Sheriff" Wilson

Age: 28

Height: 6’5

Weight: 190 lbs

Physical Appearance: Caucasian, slim with a medium build. Short Black hair with light blue eyes, has a face scar = picture from an attack on a legion base

Armor / Clothing:

(armour) Light blue combat with slighy faded the words “Houston Riot” wirtten on front & back chest piece. the armour is also missing right shoulder plate and right leg plating. The fabric underneath (combat jumpsuit?) is white with “HR” witten on both shoulders with a Red Handkerchief wrapped around the right leg (to cover a bullet hole)

(Town) around town James will either wear a Gray suit (with matching cowboy Hat) in good condition or a white t-shirt and faded blue jeans with his combat boots.

(both) James also wears a combat belt, that his pistol holster is attracted to and light blue aviator sunglasses, both items he almost never takes off (apart from when he goes to sleep)

Weapons: (Maximum of five)

1.A sliver 44. magnum with a pearlgirp comes with detachable scope and hand made leather holster (attacted to Belt)
2. A double barrel with “Close encounter” Carved into the right side of it’s stock is slung over his back.
3. a snubnosed 357 magnum that will (usally) be Hidden somewere inside his house incase of emergency
4. Cyberdog has metal teeth/claws (can cause serious pain to someone so I counted it as a weapon )

Skills / Abilities: A skilled marksmans but somewhat poor at melee combatant make but up with a trained Cyberdog (Dog handling) James is alsos killed repairman and a “okay” cook…

Whlist James seems like a strong person he actually suffers from rhythm and conduction disorder heart condition causeing weeklong sickness, also Should James takes any type of drug (apart from stimpacks) there is a high chance of James suffering a heart attack that will kill him but has special pills that pervent him from dying but they are very rare and he only has a few left....

Faction: town sheriff? (If not NCR Mercenary)

Bio: James was born just outside ruins of Huston to rancher family who orignally came from a Nearby Vault James grew up experincing both the comfort and high eductaion of Vault life and harshness of the wasteland…..

When James was 19 a Ceasar legion slaver party attacked the ranch, unable to capture anyone ,they set the house on fire burning everyone alive inside, James however saved by a passing 1st Generation super mutant who dragged James out and killed some of raiding party, the rest fled to Houston…

James thanks the mutant and asked if there anything he could do for him. The Supermutant asked James to one for thing him “Treat every 1st Generation supermutant you meet like you treat me” and then continued on his journey…

Taking his Grandfather sidearm, James travelled to Huston to track down the suriving slavers. After 3 long and bloody weeks or months James tracked the remaining slavers to a police station, were he found his unique blue combat armour, took one the legions CyberDog as pet and travelled up north …. Towards the legion….and the NCR

For the 9 years James worked as mercenary for anyone that hated the legion, taking almost any job that caused the legion to suffer and gained quite a reputation as legion killer or “the Blue armour Devil” as legionary recruits / slavers called him…

2 weeks ago after a attack on legion base, a high-ranking NCR offical sent an invitation for James to become the sheriff of the new founded town,spear city. tired of mecenacry work and looking wanted to start a family James took the job, packed up his stuff and travelled to spear city…

Name: Mk. III Cyberhound, LEO Support Model, Serial no. B955882. also know as “Jack” or Jackie”
Age: 209
Height: 3ft 5 on four legs 4ft 5 on two legs
Weight: 132 Lbs
Physical Appearance: similar to other cyberdogs(Rex) but has the word Jackie wirtten on her plate side but with “Ie” faded so it spells jack
Armor / Clothing: protective brain case
Weapons: Metal claws and teeth
Skills / Abilities: A cyberdog, Jack can do anything a normal dog can but will added intelligence from her cybernetically enhanced brain, Jack is able to understand what (most) Humans say to her and follow slighy complex instructions (e.g fetch Guards)

Faction: James’s faction but techinally a Mercenary/Legion Remnant

Bio: Part German Shepherd, Jack is a cybernetic dog.born in 2072 a Normal dog, Jack was named after her owners wife, Jackie.

Fours years Later Jack was serving in the the Denver City Police Department K-9 unit when she was injured by a frag gernade, to save her life she was cybernetically enhanced and thus turning her into a Cyberhound…

Surving the destruction of Denver and the harsh wastelands, Jack was eventually found by Caesar's legion and became a high-rank Officers perosnally hound and fought in many early Battles of the legion but didn’t like her Legion Master….


In 2255 Jacks legion owner was sent to Texas to investage a rumour about a intact Vault and took Jack with him but after a Failed attack on Ranch and several Ambushes in the Town of Huston, Jack found herself a new owner, James wilson, a kind, friendly young man unlike her cruel Old master….

Name: Alexis (Lexy) Maria Gonzales

Age: 24

Height: 5'7"

Weight: 122 pounds

Physical Appearance: Lexy is Hispanic/ Caucasian, leaving her with a nice tan complexion, long thick shiney black hair with purple streaks dyed throughout. Piercing blue eyes, they are as alluring and curious, as they are cunning and deceiving. She has a bump on the bridge of her, otherwise perfect nose, a result from a bar fight at Moriarty's Saloon. A scar that goes from her left temple, back over and past her left ear, leaving a stripe where no hair will grow. (Really only visible when her hair is pulled back) Lexy has cauliflower ear on her right ear from training in Brazilian Ju Jistu, and kick boxing. She has a lean, but curvy figure, everything thing being well proportioned. They way she sways her hips when she walks, would make people think her father was a carpenter with the swing she has. She has a large tattoo, taking up her entire back and shoulders of an eagle holding a sniper rifle in its talons, its wings stretching up to the top of her shoulders. Another that reads, sixy Lexy on the right side of her neck, a dollar sign on the back of her right hand, and her left arm is sleeved with a tribal tattoo up to her elbow. She wears black hoop earrings, two black hoops in her left eyebrow and a black stud in her libre.

Armor / Clothing: Reilly's Ranger armor, not too much green left on it, its been repaired with other combat, and Talon Co. Armor. There are purple stars on the green shoulders, and across the black ass in purple writing it reads, kiss this. (I hint to her arrogant attitude). Black, steel toed combat boots. Black fingerless gloves, usually two black bandana's, one on her head to keep her hair out of her eyes, the other around her neck. In which she pulls up to cover her mouth and nose, and she wears black aviator sunglasses.

Clothing (around town): Lexy has a black leather bomber jacket she scavenged from a pre-war wrecked aircraft. Several pairs of camo cargo pants. Green, white/grey/black and urban camo. Black or white wife beater tank tops, mirrored aviator sunglasses. A belt made with spent .308 shell casings.

Weapons: (Maximum of five)
M40A3 bolt action U.S.M.C. Sniper rifle with interchangeable scopes (thermal, night, and normal). The M40A3 now adorned with grey and black camo. Etched on the side of the barrel are the words, Lexy's Loco Latina, and she refers to it like a child. Silenced 10mm sub-machine gun, attached to her hip. Twin 9mm pistols, holstered on each side of her ribs.

Skills / Abilities: Lexy is an excellent marksman, training in long range shooting since could hold a hunting rifle. Keeping her away front the front lines of the battle, her father thought it far safer for her. Able to maintain and repair weapons efficiently.

Skilled in hand to hand combat, but due to her stature, she is easily handled by larger foes. She may get some licks in, but if unable to get her opponent to the ground, where she puts fer brazillian ju jistu to work. Her larger opponents will dominated her eventually.

Proficient at lock picking, and scouting. Having been a member of Reilly's Rangers, she would scout the larger buildings and settlements that the LW had provided locations for. Lexy was capable of mapping the internal layout of her destinations. Allowing the Rangers to know their quickest entrance and exits should things get hairy.

Faction: freelance Mercenary / assassin

Bio: Alexis was born to Fernando Gonzales and Christina Ashby, and was raised on a ranch outside of what used to be Cincinnati Ohio. Her parents employer, Richard Appleton, took great pride in the functioning ranch. Supplying a healthy stock of brahmin to the local, and surrounding business types. Mr. Appleton's employees were also trained to not only protect his ranch, but themselves. All of his ranch hands were his only family. Alexis, was not afraid to work, but would regularly hide, taking pop shots at people's backsides while they tended the ranch. As her parents, and the others learned her hiding spots, she taught herself the art of picking the old locks, in order to find better 'sniping' spots.

When Alexis turned eight, her mother became terminally ill, Mr. Appleton allowed her father to tend to Christina as much as he needed. Alexis' father was a sniper, his post was in the top of an old silo. When Christina was sleeping, Fernando would work with Alexis, teaching her the ins and outs of sniping. By the time Alexis had turned eleven, her mother had passed, and her father had become manager of the brahmin business, often leaving for days selling and trading for Mr. Appleton. She had taken over her father's post in the silo. Out of shear boredom, Alexis would pick targets, using her father's .308 sniper rifle, she picked them off one by one.

At sixteen years of age, Alexis longed to venture out, her curiosity got the best of her as she snuck off one dark night. Leaving her father and Mr. Appleton a note, explaining her wishes, Fernando was devastated. Alexis roamed with a caravan for about two years. They would stop at Megaton, enroute to Rivet City, then return to Cantebury Commons. She had befriended a young Paladin, Paladin Steven. He taught her some hand to hand combat, and showed her an M40A3 bolt action U.S.M.C. Sniper rifle. She had to have it, but along with the rarity of the weapon, came a high price tag. Paladin Steven said he could purchase it for her if she could come up with the caps.

One year later, almost nineteen years old, she had sold herself many times, and saved every single cap. Finally with the caps in hand, she returned to the Citadel. Paladin Steven kept to his word, stepping outside with the rifle. It was in impeccable condition, yet another reason for such a demanding price. Alexis, while scavenging buildings in D.C. She ran into Reilly's Rangers, helping them sweep the building, she was invited back to their base. After the LW provided mapping data, Reilly was wanting the larger buildings gone through, providing rough floor pans. So her Rangers would know the fasted entrance and exits. Reilly tasked Alexis with this, and Alexis did so eagerly. Three years later, at twenty three years old, she grew tired once more and longed for something new.

Deciding to part ways with Reilly and her Rangers, she wandered aimlessly, staying in abandoned, and destroyed houses. Alexis was passing by Tenpenny Tower when she met an unknown scavenger. The scavenger had a flyer, tattered and torn, sitting on her counter. It was an open invitation to a place called Spear City. That was it, the new land to discover, and they sought mercenaries too boot. After she picked up some ammo, food and water, she headed west, to Spear City.

Name: Igasho

Age: 19

Height: 5'9

Weight: 130 lbs

Physical Appearance: Igasho's skin has be tanned to a deep brown by extended time in the sun, his hair itself is almost the same shade of his skin and it extends well past his shoulder blades(but he often wears it in a ponytail tied by some rawhide), his eyes are likewise, hazel. All this grants him to be easily lost in any type of desert like landscape. He has a rough beard, his teeth are crooked, his hands are rough, and his feet have a thick padding of dead skin on his soles. His overall body shape appears to be that of a runner and is not very intimidating.

Clothing: Wears nothing from the waist up, except a bone necklace of fingers and toes, and a Brahmin skull helmet. He has pants made of animal hide a couple shades lighter than his skin. He never wears shoes, preferring to walk and run barefooted.

Weapons: A simple spear and a bow with no more than thirty arrows.

Skills: In running, no one can compare to Igasho. He has been running for most of his life and it is something he loves to do, he can run hard and for long distances.

In close quarters he is agile, dancing around the enemy while jabbing with his spear. In long distances he uses his bow, trying to remain unseen. If he is found and can not close the gap to use his spear, he is more than likely, dead.

His good with animals and a couple years wandering the desert has made him slightly knowledgeable in cooking and medicine, the fact that he can't read or write can be a disadvantage. He is also deaf.

Faction: Exiled Tribal

Bio: Igasho was marked from his birth as an eccentric, and that is saying something coming from a tribal group constantly hyped on drugs and revels in combat. What marked as weird was the fact that he couldn't hear and did not like to fight.

Indeed, in the coming of age ceremony where he was required to fight another one of his brethren, he did not land a single punch. He just dodged the blows and ran around in circles until the young man was too exhausted to continue, and though he did technically win, the tribe did not look fondly upon such cowardly actions.

He managed to regain some of their respect when he was able to not only track down, but bring back their lost herd of Brahmin on which the whole livelihood of the tribe depended on. Though it was obvious that he was good with animal, they did not let watch over the herds because that was a job mainly reserved for the women. It did get him a necklace of toes and fingers from one of his brother’s (everyone in the tribe is known as a brother or sister).

The tribe fought other tribes and gangs often, and Ishago wasn't always able to disappear before it happened. In the case he did wind up fighting he would either hang back and shoot his bow from the safety of cover, or try to get lost in the confusion of close quarter combat, killing only if he had too. Thus it came to no ones surprise when he “wandered” away from the tribe and never came back. In that tribe, abandonment was a treason punishable by a form of scaphism and after three days, Ishago knew he would never be welcomed again.

For the next few years he wandered the wasteland, just surviving from day to day whilst try to explore some crumbling buildings and settlements as he was a very curious fellow and just observing wasn't enough. His wandering landed him near spear town and his curiosity got the best of him and went to observe.

And was almost shot in the head for looking like a tribal, once he convinced the guards that he meant no harm, they let him in. After all he had weapons, seemed friendly, and honestly they needed whatever they could get no matter the amount of crazy he looked.

Name: Lanthios

Age: 47

Height: 6.1

Weight: 165

Physical Appearance: http://images.wikia.com/fallout/images/1/11/Legion_Praetorian_armor.png

Armor / Clothing: http://images.wikia.com/fallout/images/1/11/Legion_Praetorian_armor.png

Weapons: (Maximum of five) Machete a power fist and his hands.

Skills / Abilities: Lanthios is best with his hands but being a guard of Caesar he knows his Melee well

Faction: / Legion Remnant

Bio: Lanthois was there at the battle of the dam; he was there when the bombs came. The giant bird came towards the camp; and Lanthios grew scared and ran and ran. The cries of his men echoed behind him, but Lanthios kept fleeing. Towards his homeland was his destination towards his death. They knew Lanthios at home his job, to protect Caesar. He failed and he was to be killed, it was a very slow journey Lanthios lived off the land until he came across his men. They stopped him no matter what Lanthios said, they where making a counter attack. They journeyed back until they came to a canyon, it was there they died.

Men peered from the rocks above, rangers their guns trained on us. The entire canyon side lit up it was a slaughter. Lanthios was the only survivor when the Rangers came by and shot the rest. Lanthois hid under the body of his brethren. Lanthios knew then what he must do kill every NCR at the dam. Lanthios ran rage filled him; he made only minor stops for food and water. He knew he would soon die, until he some across something a settlement. "Spear City" Surrounded by sharpened twigs Lanthios knew this was his target. No longer would they invade our lands. Lanthios set up camp on a mountainside and watched.

Name: Paul Shard

Age: 42

Height: 5' 8"

Weight: 187 lbs

Physical Appearance: Has short brown and a small beard. Kind of like http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/c/c0/Paul_Krugman_BBF_2010_Shankbone.jpg/240px-Paul_Krugman_BBF_2010_Shankbone.jpg

Armor / Clothing: Vault lab unifrom, Enclave Officer hat.
Weapons: Desert Eagle 44. , Throwing Knives.

Skills / Abilities: Medicine , Investigation , Academics.

Faction: Doctor, Traveler.

Bio: Paul Shard was born in Iowa but soon after his birth he was adopted by a scholar at an university in the city of Carrol. From a young age Paul learned a lot of stuff about he wasteland. His buddy was John Horton. When they both were 16 they wrote a letter to there parents took a backpack full of food and water, a bunch of bottle caps, an old hunting riffle and went into the wastes, traveling west.
At the city of Lincoln in Nebraska they were attacked by a small group of Enclave. John was killed and Paul was taking hostage. They took Paul to some Enclave camp on the west coast. There Paul worked as an Enclave Doctor

When Paul was 31 and has worked for 14 years on the Enclave Base he decided he found out that he may never get out of here. But he wanted to do so much more in his life, not rot away in an Enclave Base. Of course getting out of an Enclave base is almost impossible. So he waited. And one day when paul was 32 he was assigned to join an Enclave squad to cure the soldiers if needed. Paul knew that this was his chance of getting out of that place. During his stay at the Enclave Base he recorded a lot of notes on different surgeries he did for later. An hour before the squad was going to leave he took the holotape and but it in his doctor's bag.

When the squad left Paul was given a Laser Pistol and 2 grenades and 1 mine. The squad was made of 5 persons: 3 soldiers, Paul and an Officer. When the soldiers were investigating a house Paul threw his grenade far to the left. The soldiers (in panic) walked out of the house towards the explosion. While they weren't looking Paul but a mine under a loose plank near the entrance of the house. When the soldiers went back to look in the house the mine exploded and all 3 of em died. Paul quickly shot the Officer through his head. He took an Enclave Helmet and the Officer's hat and went East ready to travel around the wastes.

When Paul was 39 he found Camp Mccarran near New Vegas. There he was recruited as a Doctor. After 2 years of working Paul heard some of the soldiers talk about a spear city to the East. So Paul once again gathered all his belongings and went East. To find spear City in hope to finally have a home.

Name: Raven "Thirteen" Dirge

Age: 29

Height: 5'6

Weight: 126 Ibs

Physical Appearance: Thirteen is lightly tanned, with long black hair that hangs at about her waist. She has a small, lithe frame but is definitely feminine. She has several burn-scars on her hands and an empty star tattooed on her upper arm. She has amber eyes that are always carefully guarded and cold, dissuading any interaction that is not initiated by her. However much she may hide it, however, her past as a healer gives her an air of trustworthiness.

Armor / Clothing: She wears a version of the merc charmer outfit with the sleeves and stockings removed, and she has a "fancy" dress in storage for special occasions. Her armor is a version of a security uniform. She has several backup outfits, most are stored in trunks she's brought and none of them are the same as her usual outfit.

She has a necklace around her neck with several pendants: in the middle; an earth made of sapphire and emerald, and on each side of that; a golden sun, and a silver moon, and beside the sun is a ruby star, and beside the moon is an amethyst star. This necklace was a gift for her mother.

Weapons: (Maximum of five) Two silenced 10mm pistols, and two 10mm SMGs.

Skills / Abilities: She's experienced with small guns, and unarmed. She also has a gift for "herbal remedies" but she likes to hide this.

Faction: Legion Remnant (freed slave), Settler.

Bio: Thirteen earned her nickname as one of the twin children of her community's leader and the healer, at the age of three. She wasn't unlucky but those who crossed her became unlucky. Her entire community lived in a prison, protected from the outside world until a plague forced the gates to open and several "Heroes" to go out and die to find a cure. Ten years later, Thirteen's father was slaughtered in his room, her mother imprisoned for his murder, and her twin brother rose to power. Many reveled in this fact, Thirteen was against it. She swore her mother did not do it, swore this on the name of their Gods. No one heard her for they were in awe of her brother's "glory", not to mention he bad reputation...

Thirteen was a healer-in-training, and a "rebellious youth"; she had bullied her brother and his friends since they were old enough to talk, she stole several things, and even committed some arson, taking a whole "neighborhood" down. While her brother lead his campaign sending more and more people out to die, Thirteen did what she could to heal, and discredit her brother. The next year, her brother asked her to go search for the cure, and she did not refuse for not listening to the leader would mean death, not by law but by the townspeople. She left, and it earned her being hunted by his soldiers like a dog. She returned, no cure in hand, but with her came the legion, the legion who promised her they'd help. Instead of helping, they made a deal with her brother, in exchange for pretty little Thirteen and the women being enslaved, they'd make the brother a leader.

He accepted, and Thirteen was wrestled to the ground and dragged to a slave pen. She spent the years watching her friends and family die because they were too weak, too old, or a slave trying to escape. She'd had a son, who was whisked off to be in the Legion Army, never to know who his mother was. Then the NCR freed her, and she found her son dead in legionnaire armor. She never thought back to her brother, she did not know where he was or how he was faring. She simply stopped caring. She left the Legion camp and came across some mercenaries who tried to convince her to "travel" with them, but the leader made the mistake of putting his hand on her and she attacked them, leaving none alive. She took their weapons and a change of clothes, to get rid of the slave clothes. She avoided main routes, and if she saw someone, she hid from them. Unless they were Legionnaire remnants, then she slaughtered them. One day, she stumbled upon Spear City. She settled down, hoping that she could lose her path.

Name: Kitten Reese, "Ki", daughter of General Alan Reese.

Age: 18

Height: 5 ft 2in

Weight: 110

Physical Appearance: Short, fair skinned, Ki has long auburn red hair and forest green eyes, along with long legs and elegant movements. She is the kind of woman who looks younger than she really is. She has hawk feathers clipped into her hair to be the difference between the New Vegas inhabitants and herself. She also has a necklace in the shape of a crown made from scrap metal, and a makeshift wedding band, with which she absently fiddles with.

Armor / Clothing: Ki has several different outfits; The dress she wears when she works in her diner is a clean thigh-length dress of light blue with an apron over it, she also wears her hair up in a messy bun at the nape of her neck held there with another homemade trinket. When she's out and about, she wears a bullet-proof vest under a black "wifebeater" that's neatly tucked into a denim skirt that was once upon a time, pants. She wears a pair of stolen (yes, stolen) NCR issue boots with these outfits, which has a nice sharp blade tucked into a sheath her mother had sewn into it. How else could a young, pretty girl survive running in and out of Gomorrah's without being pegged as a prosttute?

Weapons: She has a total of five weapons, one knife is sheathed in each boot, while another one knife is inside a sheath that are sewn on the inside of her skirts at the waist. Finally, she has two sharp, metal chop-stick-like weapons which she tucks the sharp point into her hair.

Skills / Abilities: She is an poor combatant, average courier, good barmaid and waitress, and a great cook. Which is why she opened a Diner.

Faction: NCR

Bio: Ki was born in Shady Sands to a then-Colonel Alan Reese and a free-spirited Cat Reese. She was a pretty baby, the only daughter ever to be born to Alan and Cat, for when the NCR wanted to move them from Cat's home to an officer's housing, Cat took Ki and fled to New Vegas, and took up a job with the Gomorrahs. Ki knew who her father was, for him being a Colonel in the NCR kept the Gomorrahs from bugging her to be anything but their courier, barmaid, and cook. Ki, growing up in New Vegas and the Strip, is extremely twitchy around most NCR and Securitrons, since it was an MP arguing with a Securitron that spotted her and recognized her from a picture of her and her mother as a baby.

Before that, however, Ki met a boy, a new King member called Elliot. Elliot was nice to her, helping her up after she had fallen one day when she was on her way to the Followers' camp. The Followers were her friends, having trained her in her skills. They welcomed her with open arms, and with the King boy, they let them stay there while they had their affair. However, Gomorrah had other ideas, so they convinced the girl was a bad seed, and he left her. She did not pursue him, she had no heart to, especially when, in the following months, she found a child, three actually, growing within.

When her beautiful children were born, only one, the youngest, lived. From there, her world shipped her to the NCR embassy, with her father and for a year, she raised her baby, Ellie, with the help of her mother. Ki went through the days with a fake smile until she realized how much she loved her daughter. So one day, on her way to heading out to Spear City, much to the chagrin of her father, she stopped in at the Kings' to show Elliot their daughter. He offered to give her a ride to the city. She accepted.

Name: Crow "Cerberus" Ward

Age: 29

Height: 5'6

Weight: 130 pounds

Physical Appearance: Crow is lightly tanned, with cropped black hair. He has a muscular frame from years of toning his muscles. He has a star tattoo is colored a blood red on his upper arm. Though no one would see them, he has amber eyes with dark mahogany flecks. His facial structure resembles that of Thirteen but while she is feminine, he is masculine.

Armor / Clothing: He wears a legion outfit until he gets into town, and then when he's in town, he wears a pre-war suit, and sunglasses, to hide his eyes..

Weapons: (Maximum of five) He refuses to have weapons, he prefers to go unarmed.

Skills / Abilities: He is especially skilled in unarmed combat, lockpick, sneaking, and science.

Faction: Legion Remnant/Merc. He's just biding his time until he can ruin it all from the inside out.

Bio: Cerberus gained his nickname in the small village he grew up in, for his twin sister gave it to him. As children they were close, it was only when he began to have other friends did she start to realize who he was becoming. He killed their father, framed their mother, and knew that Thirteen's bad reputation would keep people from believing what she saw.

His hatred for his parents started when his father plotted from a young age to replace him with Thirteen. His mother agreed, thinking Cerberus too soft to be the leader, to deal with the plague. Thirteen protested, content to be the healer, but neither parent listened. Still, their father allowed the village to believe Cerberus was to follow the customs; the son follow his father's footsteps and the daughter follow the mother's. This was when Thirteen began to act out, and when Cerberus began to really, really hate his parents. He never hated Thirteen, but she was a tool and a woman in the end, never worthy of his care.

You see, Cerberus was, when the gates to his village were opened, contacted by the Legion. It was a Legion plan all along, to train young Cerberus and Thirteen knew this was happening but not that it was the Legion. She thought the Legion was helping her community, when it all fell upon her head. Cerberus saw that Thirteen found the Legion, and he accepted that his sister be a slave, a wife to the legate. She only ever made it as far as a slave pen, last he heard. Cerberus was sent farther and farther away from camp. He heard he had a nephew but by what brave soul, no one knows. He was not there when the NCR attacked his camp. He found Thirteen's son, the likeness to her was undeniable, but no Thirteen. He tracked her to Spear City, and instead of going directly in, he searched for a good camp nearby.

Name: Alistair Sinclair.

Age: 28.

Height: 5'9

Weight: 132 Lbs

Physical Appearance: Tall and muscular. He has black hair and wears it in a rough ponytail. He is Caucasian.

Armor / Clothing: A black suit and black trenchcoat.

Weapons: A stylized pistol (think "Lucky" from FO:NV), a combat knife, and a small SMG he keeps in his office if an emergency arises.

Skills / Abilities: He is a charismatic and manipulative man who has been educated as a diplomat in Shady Sands. However, he trod on the toes of a senior member of the NCR Congress, and they sent him to Spear City to act as the local diplomat and marshal.

Faction: NCR Diplomat.

Bio: Born in 2261, Alistair was always a persuasive man. His parents, Maria and Andrew Sinclair, were rich from owning brahmin ranches and casinos, and gave him the best education money can buy. Eventually, a Congresswoman by the name of Imogen Baywater noticed his potential, and took him under her wing. Alistair learnt how to be a Congressman, and was eager to join Imogen's political party, but... it didn't go so well. At a party fundraiser, Alistair got drunk and insulted General Oliver, who had him promptly shipped off to Spear City. Alistair is bitter and irritable because of this unfortunate event, but takes heart that in five years he'll be able to leave. In the meantime, Imogen has become something of a surrogate mother to Alistair and constantly sends him care packages.

Alistair has a small office in Spear City which is a stone's throw form the bar. (House 10.) It is very primitive, even worse than the NCR Embassy on the Strip, with the ground floor serving as the office and the second floor as his bedroom. Also with him in the city is Violet Merryweather, who serves as a kind of 'deputy' for Alistair.

Name: Warren Adams

Age: 28

Height: 6'2

Weight: 180 lbs

Physical Appearance: Warren is a tall, lean and well muscled man.He has a large scar across his back that spans from the small of his back on the left to his shoulder on the right.He has a rough beard with a smooth wave type of hair-do, he enjoys being well-shaven. His eyes are hazel and appear to shine. This all accompanying his strikingly handsome features and well developed bone structure.

Armor: Reinforced leather armor with a plate on the forearm with a heart etched in, a heart painted in with dried blood. The armor is somewhat patchwork. In the way that where the leather has fallen off or where there are holes, metal plates have been placed to help provide more protection. Warren also wears Authority Shades.

Weapons: .223 pistol, dual combat knives, and an AK-112 Assault Rifle with an expanded magazine.

Skills: Guns, Speech, and Repair.

Faction: Mercenary

Bio: Warren is a man of many words. He enjoys company and is very social, along with being very suave and cocky. He can usually back his claims but he's lost and it cost him dearly. His bares the scar on his back and on his heart. Even his armor shows a sign of that one loss. He grew up in New Reno with his father and younger brother, Alan. His mother died giving birth to his brother when Warren was 8. Warren always blamed his mother's death on Alan and hated him for it for quite a long time. Warren's father was an NCR Ranger until he was framed for dealing drugs, his father was cast from the ranks of the NCR and fell into a spiraling depression. He eventually resorted to the thing that lead to his downfall in the form of Jet. When he wasn't stoned or passed out he taught Warren to shoot and fight with blunt or bladed weapons. His father wasn't a great teacher but he helped start Warren out, from there Warren taught himself and his practice was shooting thieves who broke into his small, shot-up house every night. Warren grew older and realized it wasn't Alan's fault their mother died and grew fiercely protective of him. When Warren was 17 his father was beaten to death on the street. His world nearly fell apart and the only thing keeping him going was his 9-year-old brother. Warren began working as a gun-for-hire at age 18 when he bought himself a .223 pistol with the money Warren and his brother managed to save up. He was convinced he'd make it with his fast shots and marksmanship. He had to kill many men and guard many caravans but saved up enough money to buy a place for himself and Alan. He moved to a small ranch he bought near Vault City. The same gang who were responsible for his father's framing caught wind of Warren's activities. They it was he who killed the son of their leader. Warren had not known when he took the job but he payed. Returning home one day he noticed it was eerily quiet and he walked in to his house pistol drawn but as he took his first step in, a blunt object met his face and knocked him out. The gang had kidnapped 13-year-old Alan and 21-year-old Warren and brought them to a shack in the desert where they tortured the two for days. He earned both his scars there. After so much torture Warren made a bet to his captors, that if he hit a target at 300 yards with his .223 he and Alan could go. Warren's shot was foiled by the gang and for laughs the gang killed Alan and left Warren near-death in the desert. A passing caravan discovered him and brought him to Vault City for medical aid. He has long since recovered and turned to a drifter. He looks at Spear City as an opportunity to make some money and maybe do some good. The heart with dried blood on his armor is homage to his brother and truly does wear his heart on his sleeve, only that one heart is for two.

? Name: Kevin Wright (Paladin Wright)

? Age: 22

? Height: 6 foot

? Weight: 11 stone 7 pounds

? Physical Appearance: Wright is a Caucasian male who looks a bit young for his age, he has dusty-brown hair which he usually keeps looking short but rough looking with stubble around his chin. Thanks to the strict training rituals given to young BoS Initiates he has well above average muscle mass and endurance. He is able to wear Power Armour and carry a large amount of weapons, ammo, food and water without even wearing his combat armour. Which he doesn’t like that much because he finds it too clunky and noisy to use.

? Armour/ Clothing: When moving around populated areas or when relaxing, sleeping and travelling, Wright likes to stick to a hoodie and a pair of jogging bottoms for comfort and mobility. However, when entering combat or travelling through dangerous areas he dons his reinforced leather Armour he fashioned himself. It can absorb the impact of small arms from long distances as well as knives and blades. Close range it doesn’t have as much protection as his Power Armour, but it still offers some protection.

? Weapons: Being in the Brotherhood means you are proficient with all manner of laser weapons. However, Wright much prefers his lighter Laser Pistol for close range, his laser rifle for medium range engagements and since leaving the safety of the Hidden valley Bunker all those years ago he has become quite the shot at long range with his hunting rifle. And always his trusty combat knife he stole from his first kill after frying his body with a laser pistol. Etched into the handle of this blade are his parents initials – EV for his dad and LK for his Mother (using her maiden name). He also carries a small box of EMP grenades after seeing the damage that those mark II Securitrons could do.

? Skills: obviously growing up inside the BoS, Wright is proficient with all manner of laser weapons, from the pistol to the Gatling. He has also had Power Armour training. Being in the BoS also means that Wright wasn’t a great shot with conventional weapons or with melee weapons. He does have some hand to hand training and upon leaving the Hidden Valley Bunker has also taught himself how to use conventional weapons and ammo, stealth and to kill silently with his trusty knife. Living alone also meant Wright has to survive alone; he is good with cooking on a campfire, surviving and repair, always taking his sewing kit with him to patch up his armour. He also is an expert scavenger and is at the moment trying to find the some materials to help repair some combat armour he has found.

? Bio: Wright was born in the Hidden valley, the child of two Knights, survivors of the Helios One massacre; his Father is Knight Edward Vance and his Mother Knight Lara Kraft. Since he was young the BoS Initiate was different to the others. He was clearly more in love with the attraction of being alone and operating with no one to watch his back – or get him killed. When he passed his training he quickly rose through the ranks, saving lives and gathering important information on the few patrols that left the bunker, to Paladin. Once a Padalin, Elder Nolan McNamara gave Wright his first taste of what he really wanted – adventure, along with a gift, a Pip Boy 3000 that was scavenged on one of the patrols, he hoped this would prove useful in the future. His first objective was to recon Helios One, the site of the BoS defeat many years earlier. Marking the map coordinates on his pip boy he set off on his adventure. Just outside the chain link perimeter of the Hidden valley, wright came across a person brandishing a knife and some dynamite. He was in the path of Wright and there was no way of sneaking past as the valley was too narrow. Taking careful aim with his rifle wright scored a headshot on his victim and his first kill alone. Looking at the body he saw he was wearing a jacket from the NCR correction Facility with ‘Powder gangers’ crudely sewed into the back. Odd he thought, he noted the kill in his Pip boy and took the Combat Knife with him. Cleaning it and eventually engraving the four most important letter in his life into the handle.

Wright was then tasked with recceing the surrounding area, the Mojave Outpost, Nipton, Novac and New Vegas. It was on these trips that Wright saw some of the worst atrocities in the Mojave, he grew as a man and learned new skills. He watched The Strip for weeks all the way until the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, always updating the BoS on what he found and saw. He returned after the battle for 2 weeks R&R before heading out to investigate the new NCR settlement out east, known as Spear city. Even though the NCR and BoS had a truce, they were by no means allied. If a BoS ‘spy’ was found this far east it could spark allout war with the NCR and the BoS. Regardless, Wright decided he had to go…


Long Bio: Wright was born in the Hidden valley, the child of two Knights, survivors of the Helios One massacre; his Father is Knight Edward Vance and his Mother Knight Lara Kraft. Since he was young the BoS Initiate was different to the others. He was clearly more in love with the attraction of being alone and operating with no one to watch his back – or get him killed. When he passed his training he quickly rose through the ranks, saving lives and gathering important information on the few patrols that left the bunker, to Paladin. Once a Padalin, Elder Nolan McNamara gave Wright his first taste of what he really wanted – adventure, along with a gift, a Pip Boy 3000 that was scavenged on one of the patrols, he hoped this would prove useful in the future. His first objective was to recon Helios One, the site of the BoS defeat many years earlier. Marking the map coordinates on his pip boy he set off on his adventure. Just outside the chain link perimeter of the Hidden valley, wright came across a person brandishing a knife and some dynamite. He was in the path of Wright and there was no way of sneaking past as the valley was too narrow. Taking careful aim with his rifle wright scored a headshot on his victim and his first kill alone. Looking at the body he saw he was wearing a jacket from the NCR correction Facility with ‘Powder gangers’ crudely sewed into the back. Odd he thought, he noted the kill in his Pip boy and took the Combat Knife with him. Cleaning it and eventually engraving the four most important letter in his life into the handle.

When he arrived at Helios One arrived he noticed that it was guarded by a number of NCR troops and constant patrols around the perimeter, however, the plant looked to be operating at about 2% efficiency, or not much more – he guessed. He had set up a small camp on the mountains to the east of the site. Each night he would make a daring close contact recon of the site to train in stealth and sneaking, he liked to see how far he could get to the perimeter without been spotted. However, on the third night he got too close. A NCR guard dog must have picked up his scent and escaped from its handlers grasp bounding towards Wright. He was in a gulley about 300 meters from his camp; the dog fell down this hole and suddenly went silent. Fearing, correctly, the worse for his trusty companion the NCR dog handler radioed in and the base went on full alert and soon NCR troops were pouring out of the compound towards Wright. Thinking his time had come, Wright decided just to make a run for it, 300 meters back to his camp. He was lucky, the NCR troops defending the site must have been rookies as not one shot hit the intruder and he made it back to his camp in one piece. He packed up as fast as he could and left to return to the bunker, had the NCR known he was from the Brotherhood they probably would have taken chase, however they assumed he must have been a scavenger looking for parts and gave up after firing from the compound perimeter.

When he reached the chain link fence the Paladin realised he had to carry on, checking his pip boy had updated with the newest orders, he headed back out into the Mojave heading towards his next objective: The Mojave Outpost. The MO was an NCR held post in the South East corner of the Mojave and controls caravans entering and exiting. He made camp in the surrounding mountains and radioed the bunker with his findings at Helios One and his current position, should he be killed. After silently watching the NCR at the Outpost for a few days, Wright had concluded that the NCR troops stationed there were too overstretched just defending these piece of land and posed no threat unless they gave up their position, which, as he though, they wouldn’t. He radioed his findings back to the bunker and received his mission update.

Head to Nipton and find out what’s going on. Elder McNamara had heard reports of a large Legion force heading towards the town. Wright to the road West down through the remains of a whole line of burnt out and rusted cars from the pre-war days. He also saw some more recent remains, some caravans had been ambushed down the road, looked like a group or Giant Ants, which the paladin decided to ignore. He headed on further down the road to see other caravans had been ambushed by someone, or something. He watched some buildings which flanked the road on either side, near where the burnt out caravan was stationed, for a few hours. And as he had suspected some raiders appeared outside. The Paladin had heard stories of the Mojave raiders, constantly high on chems and always looking for the next thing to kill and maim. He counted about five raiders, enough for him to take on, as long as he had the element of surprise, but he decided it was best to steer clear, as he didn’t want anyone to hear the gunfight that would surely ensue.

He skirted south for a while, encountering nothing but a massive bowl of sand, sand and dust. He then re-joined the road and was a couple of miles from Nipton before he left and skirted towards the north side of the town and set up camp adjacent to the town hall, according to his pip boy and from what he could see, this proved accurate.
From this position, Wright witnessed the worst scene he had ever witnessed or heard of in his life. However, he was sure that on his adventure he would soon see a lot more of these cruel, barbaric and inhumane acts inflicted on others as the balance of the Mojave rested in a balance. This was Wright’s first encounter with the legion, a nasty one. He watched as the legion entered the town and took command of the town hall. They started talking to the residents and only a few put up a short, possibly, stupid fight. However, the ones that died fighting the Legion had had a lucky escape, although no one knew this yet.
A day after entering the town, putting down what little resistance there was and interviewing the tows people the legion started rounding up what appeared to be criminals and then he watched as they caught the rest of the citizens of Nipton and, one by one, killed them all.

It was clear that the legion took no prisoners, only those deemed good enough to be slaves, and were intent on advancing through the Mojave towards the NCR settlements. After the day’s events the Paladin watched the Legion as they crucified anyone else who they had missed and started patrolling the surrounding area, getting too close for Wright’s comfort. He decided that night he would have to leave, or suffer the same fate as those he had watched before him.

He radioed the bunker letting them know what he had seen, his predictions and his plan to move. His next orders were clear, head back up towards New Vegas, passing any towns along the way and preforming a quick recon of Helios One, again. The Paladin had also issued a supply drop to be stored just behind a town called Novac in an old shack. As he set off his Pip Boy downloaded all the necessary map markers, he headed north west first to Novac.

He reached Novac with only a few skirmishes with small bands of raiders, pumped up on jet as usual – a [censored] to take down noted Wright. Approaching Novac, he saw a huge 20 foot Dinosaur loom out of the darkness. Getting closer Wright saw something sticking out of the dinosaur’s mouth. Getting out his binoculars, Wright insantly recognised it as the barrel of a pre-war sniper rifle. These things still pack a punch and can take out any living thing up to 2 miles away. He quickly scrambled for cover when he realised the barrel was pointing right at him. Diving behind a rock and catching his breath wright poked his up and took another look, thankful that the barrel and swung past him. Luckily, he’d not been spotted by the sniper – had he been he would have been killed, because the sniper was from the famous, or infamous, first recon a special detachment of the NCR – everyone handpicked and a seasoned sharpshooter. He knew the sniper was First Recon because he still proudly wore his beret. However, later that night Wright noticed something even stranger, the sniper had disappeared, nowhere to be seen. Thinking he could make a run for it, Wright darted from his position zig-zagging across the open ground, from cover to cover. That’s when he heard the CRACK-BANG of a high velocity sniper round narrowly missing the sprinting man’s head and harmlessly penetrating the rock behind him. Wright dived behind the biggest rock he could and hugged the dirt as low as possible.

The sniper, cursing himself for missing and letting his target get to cover, cautiously advanced towards were Wright hid. However, wright had anticipated this and had already drawn for his Laser Rifle and his finger was on the trigger. Both men high on adrenaline, hearts pounding and ready for action fired at the same time. The sniper round hit the thick rock in front of Wright and his laser fried some grass a few meters from the Snipers feet. The sniper then too took cover himself pulling out his standard issue 10mm pistol and returning fire. Both wasting ammo firing blindly at rocks and patches of ground paused to reload. The sniper already had a new round in the chamber before Wright could even reload. Weirdly, to Wright, the sniper then withdrew under his own covering fire and sprinted off into the distance. Not wanting to burn through more ammo, Wright held his fire; his rifle was useless at that range anyway. Wright decided he needed something with a bit more firepower at longer ranges.

Looking around in the mountains surrounding Novac Wright encountered a few more raiders, whom he dispatched with no trouble. Looking through their makeshift camp Wright found Stimpack, Jet, Psycho, the usual raider stuff. Taking the Stimpack from the cabinet he spotted an almost pristine Hunting Rifle and 50 .308 rounds to go with it. Having never fired a conventional weapon before Wright decided to use some raiders he had seen the day before as target practice. Making his way across the mountains he located the larger raider camp, home to about eight raiders. Having already discharged a few rounds to get used to firing a weapon which didn’t concentrate light, didn’t use Micro Fusion Cells and he hadn’t grown up with he hoped that the 35 rounds he had left would suffice.

Setting up a bedroll for comfort and his back pack to level his gun on he lined up a raider’s head in his sight. Snatching the trigger the shot went well wide of the intended target and clanged around some cooking utensils. Alerting the raiders, all ten of them – two more than Wright could see. Luckily Wright was too far away for the raiders to see. This time Wright thought about his shot, he took slow breaths and squeezed the trigger gently putting the brains of a raider all over the wall behind him. Wright encouraged by his new found skill hit home two more headshots, then getting too excited his fifth shot missed. By this time the remaining raiders had figured out where he was positioned and were working their way around the rocks and up the mountain side. Wright managed to pick two more off as they were climbing, but they were getting closer every second. With half the raiders still alive and running towards him any man would have been worried, but not Wright he knew as hey got closer and closer he would soon be able to hit them all with his laser rifle. And it was true as they go to about 30 meters away, Wright opened fire, using one MF Cell he finished off the other five raiders. Sauaging their bodies, Wright stayed the day, fixing his armour and finding more ammo, he decided to wait for the envelope of darkness to conceal his movements.
When darkness fell, Wright picked up his possessions and set off back down into the valley and towards Novac, not knowing to expect Wright wore his armour, his laser rifle slung across his back and his pistol holstered on his thigh. His weapons were visible but not too threatening, or so he hoped. He walked towards the small town, an old Highway-side motel from the pre-war times, he wondered what the cars would have looked like travelling to New Vegas, how different the world would have looked with the bright lights of Vegas everywhere and whether it would ever look the same again. Whilst day dreaming Wright had reached the bottom of the mountain and was making his way towards the ‘town’ when he was snapped out of his daze by a hunched figure in the desert. He dived to the ground, and looked through his binoculars at the figure. He instantly recognised the beret, it was the sniper from the night before, luckily he had not spotted Wright has he lay, an easy target, in the open. Whilst studying the unknown sniper through his binoculars he noticed he had a pained expression on his face and had clearly been crying, although, he bet he wouldn’t want anyone to know. This had Wright interested, after a while he saw the barrel of the sniper sticking out of the dinosaurs mouth again. Wright figured it was safe to move - as long as he was careful.

After moving slowly and carefully through the expanse of desert in front of him Wright reached the gates to Novac, where he saw a friendly cowboy Securitron – odd he thought, and had a look around. By this time it was reaching early morning, he waited around for about an hour and then went into the Motel reception; he booked a room for the day and night for 100 caps, most of the caps he had scavenged from dead raiders. He unloaded his gear just keeping his Laser pistol strapped to his thigh. He was looking to his first good night’s sleep in almost a week. When he left his room he saw the sniper leaving the dinosaur’s mouth and the other entering. He thought the one leaving the dinosaur must have been the one he had seen, it was, when he got closer he could clearly see the man was still upset. Wright thought about asking if he was okay, but he looked like a man who was deeply wrapped in his own thoughts and didn’t want to be disturbed, still Wright wondered what had happened. He decided to ask the lady who had given him his room reservation, she seemed all too happy to indulge Wright into the latest gossip to hit the town, a little too happy and informative, Wright thought, but made nothing of it.

That day, he also decided to go grab his supply drop as it was only a few minutes’ walk away. Keeping just his pistol handy he walked down the highway until he reached an old scrapyard. Whilst talking to the Old Lady Wright spotted some boxes of .308 ammo and bought a box for 50 caps. He planned to do some target shooting later that day. He went behind the scrap yard and found the shack he was looking for. Inside the shack was purified water, mainly canned food from pre-war and some MF Cells. There was also a terminal in there which had some information about some new technologies and something to do with plants, it was written by someone named veronica – Wright knew he recognised that name, but thought nothing of it.

After making a quick sweep of the Helios One facility, Wright concluded that nothing had changed since his last visit except that they had a new dog on patrol. Wright headed back to Novac, for some target practice a hot meal and sleep.

The next day wright woke relaxed and refreshed. He stumbled into the bathroom to freshen up and the got ready for his day long walk to new Vegas. Leaving his room hid handed they key back to Jeannie May Crawford and left Novac. Walking down the Highway Wright passed Helios One again and some other sights, having a few running gun battles and skirmishes with some opportunistic raiders along the way. After a whole day of walking Wright was knackered and settled down for the night Novac side of the crest of a hill. From here he could see Camp McCarran, the NCR Headquarters in the region, they looked to be having some trouble with raiders on the west bank. He observed the comings and goings of the base, patrols and supplies coming and going. Wright reported his findings to the bunker and moved to watch The Strip. Carefully avoiding the raiders who were mostly asleep – or passed out, he made his way towards the east of the Strip onto the hills overlooking, this way he could see what was going on. He spent a few weeks monitoring the situation, watching the NCR and Caesar’s legion gear up for battle. Although, this one person had always cropped up somewhere, he was also the only person Wright had ever seen enter the Lucky 38 casino. He didn’t know why, but he kept going in and eventually went in with this robot and only he returned. This was about the same time the Securitrons changed. They seemed angrier than before and their faces changed. One day, Wright saw one of these Securitrons leave alone, he decided to track it. He followed it until it had stopped, looking over Camp McCarran. Wright decided he could take it down in one hit with his Laser rifle. Wright got close, close enough so he couldn’t miss, but far enough away in case the Securitrons could sense his presence. He hit it in the back, but it didn’t go down, the Securitron turned to face Wright and started to fire a Gatling laser towards Wright, hundreds of laser rounds were slapping the ground and rocks around Wright. Luckily the Securitron was quite inaccurate and wright managed to fire off his laser rifle into the robot taking it down, eventually. Wright cautiously advanced towards the robot, rifle at the ready. He downloaded the data off of the robot to his Pip Boy he found that they had been upgraded by someone called The courier and were owned by Mr house of Lucy 38.
Wright returned to his position overlooking the strip and stayed for a few more days continuing with his recon.

Two days later the Second Battle of Hoover dam started. After a hard day’s fight the Legion was pretty much destroyed this far West. Wright returned to the Hidden Valley Bunker and was thanked by the Elder for his work and had a few weeks of rest and training.
After his rest he was issued with a new task. The NCR had pushed east into Legion territory and had started a new town ‘Spear City’ it was Wrights job to recon the town and the NCRs strength in the region. Even though the NCR and BoS had a truce, they were by no means allied. If a BoS ‘spy’ was found this far east it could spark allout war with the NCR and the BoS. Regardless, Wright decided he had to go…

Name: Jonas Bannon

Age: 43 yrs old

Height: 5’9”

Weight: 180 lbs.

Physical Appearance: He is a male of Asian/Caucasian descent. He has a tanned complexion and has wavy, sandy brown hair kept short. He has a stocky, solid build borne from considerable amounts of heavy lifting. He has a large scar on his left deltoid where he cut out a tattoo.

Armor / Clothing: When he is travelling, he wears a dark brown duster, matching pants, and a rawhide cowboy hat, but will often take off his duster when he is driving his Brahmin wagon. Underneath, he wears a white, short sleeved, button down shirt and a black vest. He wears a leather belt with a pistol holster and knife sheathe at the hip. When he’s working in the shop, he wears a dark blue jumpsuit with a toolbelt.

Weapons: Heavy Duty .45 pistol w/ silencer with “Speak Softly” etched into the grip, Hunting Shotgun with “Big Stick” scratched into the stock, Trench knife w/ smooth knuckle guard .

Skills / Abilities: He is a tinkerer and a gearhead. He can repair almost any firearm and laser weaponry to working condition, and has acquired over the years all manner of equipment needed for the job. And if anyone needs something build, chances are he can make it. He has recently acquired a portable forge and anvil, and is learning how to incorporate it into his work.

Since he travels frequently, he has learned to be mindful of how he speaks and how he presents himself. As such, when meeting new people, he tries to be likeable and friendly. On the rare occasion that he fails, he is quite competent with a gun.

Faction: Followers of the Apocalypse

Bio:

Jonas was born in 2239, near the end of the era of cooperation between the NCR and the Brotherhood of Steel. His father was a Brotherhood Knight, but his mother was an NCR soldier.
Because of their differing organizations, his parents were not together often. But when they were, they were a happy family. Until the NCR-Brotherhood War.

He was five when the Brotherhood officially declared war on the NCR. He was with his father in the Brotherhood bunker in San Francisco when the declaration occurred, and was subsequently cut off from his mother, never to see her again. Resigned to a life in the Brotherhood, he was inducted into the order. Jonas took to the Initiate training quite well, excelling in all fields.

Upon graduating from Initiate training, he was moved into the Order of the Scribes at the behest of his now-Paladin father. He served with distinction as a Scribe, rising to the rank of Journeyman Scribe in short order, and was inducted into the Scribe's Order of the Sword. It was his work in the Order of the Sword that the Brotherhood discovered that Jonas had an aptitude with weapons maintenance, construction, and research. He often worked in the Knights workshops, the Knights much amused in seeing a Scribe working alongside them. The Brotherhood decided, over the objections of Jonas' father, that since Jonas spent most of his time with the Knights, he might as well become one.

At 20 years of age, Jonas was transferred into the Order of the Knights as an apprentice. Again, he served with distinction, servicing the Brotherhood's weapons, and occasionally taking to the field. He was promoted to Journeyman within a few years, his expertise as a Scribe and now a Knight earned him the unofficial title of Knight-Scribe.

In 2261, Jonas' squad was involved in an attack on an NCR logistics outpost near Redding. The attack was a success, and the Brotherhood captured the outpost's ranking officer, a female major. To Jonas' horror, he recognized the major, someone he had not seen since he was five, and did not expect to see ever again. Jonas' CO, a Paladin who was a bitter rival of his father's, realized who he had captured. Seizing the moment, he immediately executed the major in front of the squad. In a sudden fit of rage, Jonas attacked the Paladin, striking him several times before being restrained by the rest of the squad. The Paladin charged Jonas with insubordination and striking a superior officer, among other charges, was stripped of his weapons and armor, and manacled for the trip back.

When the squad neared Navarro, an NCR unit ambushed them. Jonas managed to get away, but was left with a choice: return to the BOS, face the charges, and most likely get executed, or leave the Brotherhood, and become a wastelander. It was a simple choice.

Jonas wandered the wastes, surviving on scraps and dregs. Then, he discovered the Followers of the Apocalypse. He had stumbled onto the Followers after he was ambushed by raiders. They did not hesitate to help a bedraggled young man that had stumbled into their midst, and they did not ask for payment. His interest piqued, Jonas learned more about the Followers and found that he approved of their goal to bring knowledge to the wastes.

Jonas travelled to the Boneyard and joined the Followers. He became a great asset to the Followers, expanding their knowledge of science and technology. He learned how use his expertise in war for peaceful endeavors.

Since then, Jonas has travelled the wasteland, spreading the goals of the Followers of the Apocalypse. From Klamath to New Caanan, he has assisted many growing communities into becoming stable towns. He now travels to Spear City to lend his skills to the growing town.

Name: Gregory Hardy

Age: 36

Height: 6'1"

Weight: 187lbs

Physical Appearance: Greg looks pretty average. He has short brown hair, a few freckles on his face, he is sunburned/suntanned, like most everyone else, and has no distinctive facial scars. There are a few burn marks on his left forearm, and he has a thin brown mustache.

Armor / Clothing: He wears overalls and a straw farm hat.

Weapons: Hunting Rifle (w/Scope), .357 revolver

Skills / Abilities:

Being a former sniper in the NCR Army, Greg knows his way around a rifle, as well as how to conceal himself in plain sight. However, he is also a very intelligent and observant person, and enjoys reading (which he does very well for someone of this day and age). He is also trained in first aid medicine, while no doctor, he is better than most people at fixing up the wounded.

Faction: Settler

Bio:

Greg grew up outside of Klamath, where he was exposed, at a young age, to various tribals, as well as "civilized" folk. He always had an interest in learning more about the various tribes around him, and this interest eventually lead him to leave Klamath to go on a sort of field trip, trying to learn about all the peoples he could. He was eventually conscripted into the NCR Army and, due to his incredible accuracy, was selected for, trained, and accepted as a sniper in which he served fighting the Khans for the NCR. However, killing tribals and trying to learn their ways and customs were not the same thing, and as soon as Greg could get out, he did, leaving the Army behind for good, and leaving a bitter taste in his mouth towards how the NCR treated indigenous peoples. He eventually met up with the Followers of the Apocalypse, who eagerly accepted him as a member and sent him east, to help provide for the people left over in the power vacuum that was the destruction of Caesar's Legion. Greg has recently arrived at Spear City, eager to get to know the local tribals in the area, and help how ever he can.

Name: Zed is the name he goes by, Roswell Johnson is his real name

Age: 85 (Turned into a Ghoul at age 38 making him a young ghoul)

Height: 6` 3" hes tall, this helps him with his speech

Weight: 175 p

Physical Appearance: http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.cjdaweasel.com/Stories/WNL/faceofakiller.JPG&imgrefurl=http://thisis.cjdaweasel.com/%3Fm%3D200906&usg=__t1XP7caGHn0awRdc3xhceGJjvY4=&h=232&w=256&sz=19&hl=en&start=41&sig2=Em4ABXhhVigyhyuy-zdm5w&zoom=1&tbnid=DajYDokwEExN2M:&tbnh=129&tbnw=142&ei=yVIiTvvMA5G6sQPLrNFb&prev=/search%3Fq%3Dstubbs%2Bthe%2Bzombie%2Bdrawing%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26biw%3D1366%26bih%3D587%26tbm%3Disch&um=1&itbs=1&iact=hc&vpx=190&vpy=287&dur=453&hovh=185&hovw=204&tx=141&ty=81&page=3&ndsp=21&ved=1t:429,r:7,s:41&biw=1366&bih=587 skinny with a intact face humanoid face for a Ghoul, his body looks like someone has been though it with a razor blade but the suit covers it up....

Armor / Clothing: Salesman Suit with Fancy tie with a Pre-war hat, has a http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.rosaryandchaplets.com/rosaries/habit_rosary/habit_franciscan_rosary_3_5.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.rosaryandchaplets.com/rosaries/habit_rosary/habit_franciscan_crown_rosary.html&usg=__xbEcFebEAyeU7guLMjAlLuIX7Io=&h=566&w=450&sz=39&hl=en&start=196&sig2=ZexEjilJn9E5P71RDDE0yA&zoom=1&tbnid=QTR4uVYdI79NLM:&tbnh=133&tbnw=108&ei=mqIiTp_zHpKksQOKg4Q0&prev=/search%3Fq%3Drosary%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DN%26biw%3D1366%26bih%3D587%26tbm%3Disch&um=1&itbs=1&iact=hc&vpx=1119&vpy=220&dur=546&hovh=252&hovw=200&tx=130&ty=215&page=9&ndsp=24&ved=1t:429,r:23,s:196&biw=1366&bih=587 in his front suit pocket

Weapons: black painted 44. Magnum he is skilled with his weapon / also always carry a suitcase / and also has a saw-off shotgun in his coat...also has equipped is a Pipboy 3000 given to him by a friend

Skills / Abilities: Diplomat,Smooth talker, Ex Gunslinger and actually is a good artist. WILL not do heavy lifting and hates Manual labor but he will put up with it if needed.... can Also Cooks very well but it takes alot to make him, in short hes good at surviving alone and can help others to survive as well, but his personality prefers to stay away from boring and uninteresting people

Faction : None, just a Drifter / Wonderer looking for a place to rest

Bio: He lives by One motto "I dint care who you are, what you done, how many people you killed or if your some tribal dicator. If your good to me, ill be good too you" and also Zed will out of his way for anyone he finds interesting or funny that being said,
Not much is known about Zeds past just small Details here and there. He is known to have grew up in The Pitt and has wondered ever since he left. He keeps to himself and trys not to get in anyone way. He doesn't Judge anyone and always looks at things in others shoe steps. Was turned into a Ghoul at the age of 39 by a group of super mutants who dipped him in a attempt to turn him into a super mutant, but got a Ghoul insted...he is Very skilled with his 44. and learned from many encounters with people to be quit the Smooth talker...People Talking to Stranger often find it Awkward to attempt to Intimidate, manipulate or lie to him. Hes been everywhere from New Reno and New Vegas to inside Raven Rock and Project purity...he has even once held the platinum chip but sold it too a Merchant for a pack of cigarettes. He trys his best not to interfere with the Locals where ever he is but sometimes doesn't have a choice or does so to help the people who are good to him for example a town that was rude and disrespectful to Stranger even tryed to kill him several times. this town was about to be taken over by raiders The raiders would have looted, killed and r*aped everyone in the town but Zed stepped in and killed 17 raiders, making the rest flee. All this just to save a women and her child that was kind to him by letting him stay in their house and also fed him...But now after traveling for so long he is tired and ready to settle down for afew decades atleast....Zed doesn't expect to get attacted to anyone here or anything major to happen...just any other place to live and its as good as any


now this stranger has somehow wondered into Spear city where he is now sitting...Hungry, tired and Smoking enjoying the Blues of the Old on his Pip-boy...... world with his back turned to a rock next to Spear city, while resting in his hat..Spear City The next chapter of this Ghouls story is about to begin

Name: Ryan Smith

Age: 28

Height: 6ft

Weight: 168Ibs

Appearance: Ryan has very short black hair, something he kept from his military days. He wears a green NCR beret and his fathers old Ranger Veteran Armour. He has very bright green eyes and a scar runs down the left side of his lips, he is reasonably tall and well toned, though he is taller then he is muscular, he makes up for this with a uniquely agile fighting style.

Armour / Clothing: A Green Beret is always perched on his head, he wears the same Armour that is worn by Veteran Rangers, only it’s Riot Armour has M.S engraved into the chest. He wears worn blue jeans and black military style combat boots below his armor, unfortunately the Riot Armour only covers his chest.

Weapons: Ryan carries a scoped SA-80 and a .44 Magnum.

Skills and Abilities: Due to Ryan constantly training while growing up he has become a very good shot, surpassing what some snipers can do when in the zone with his SA-80, although he is not overly strong, his father taught him a unique hand to hand fighting style while he was growing up, tutoring himself out of books when his father was away he is now an expert at the combat formerly known as Judo. Because of the many tours in the NCR where supply's and weapon packages came very rarely Ryan has taught himself to repair his beloved SA-80. While doing so he got the attention of others in the many camps he was in and was soon fixing everybody's guns, this gave him quite the knowledge when it came to firearms.

Personality: Ryan holds a cold confidence about himself, although he prefers not to speak too much he is in no way nervous. He rarely gets angry but tends to think things through emotionally instead of logically.

Bio: Ryan grew up on the base camp of Camp McCarran, here he was raised by his father who was an NCR Veteran Ranger, all his childhood was spent preparing for the day he turned old enough to start military training, from when he was eight years old his father gave him a 9mm and told him to start practicing, after only five months of shooting his father started getting very strict on him, making him do laps around the entire air base if he missed a shot. When he turned ten he was already a brilliant shot with handguns and started reading books on Judo his father had given him as homework for when he returned from assignments. He then started dueling with his father, learning everything from how do take a knife from an opponent to how to kill an opponent using his own weapon. After three years of all this his father rewarded him with a Scoped Hunting Rifle for finally taking him down in a duel. They then started to snipe both fiends and raiders from McCarran's walls. When Ryan reached thirteen years old his father sent him to Freeside, leaving him at the gates and giving him a .357 Revolver he told his son to meet him back in that same spot in a week, if he made it he was worthy of the NCR. The young Ryan not only made it, he prospered. Leaving Freeside with both a .44 Magnum he was rewarded for saving an old fellas shop from junkies and a handful of caps.

Ryan finally reached the age of legality to join the Army, he flew through training surpassing even his drill instructor, as soon as he passed he was asked to join 1st Recon, a special unit of snipers. Though he declined because he wanted to spend more time with his now retired father, his father passed away when Ryan was twenty five and on tour, he was now a Ranger. When he arrived he found his fathers corpse had been buried outside of McCarren, he visited and found no flowers, no gravestone, no thanks. He flew into a rage and smashed up the office of an NCR colonel. He and his father had dedicated their lives to the NCR and in the end, it didn't matter. They were just tools. The Colonel had him put into an NCRCF, two years later he was released. No longer wanting to be in major NCR territory but not quite willing to let go he finds himself wondering towards Spear City, a place where he can honor his fathers memory and not be too close to any NCR officials. He decided to dedicated the rest of his life to one mind frame after that. We the Soldiers. Now hoping to help the smaller unit of NCR at Spear City, he hopes to find another meaning to his life.

Name: Max Gordy

Gender: Male

Age: 21

Height: 6'7 ft

Weight: 167 lbs.

Physical Appearance: Caucasian, handsome face, brown clean-cut hair. Broad shoulders, tough looking.

Armor / Clothing: Bandages covering his arms, legs, and head both in and out of his combat armor. Original Desert Ranger Combat Armor and helmet with built in optics and green lights in the helmet's visors. NCR is scratched on the shoulder pads.

http://fallout.wikia.com/wiki/Desert_Ranger_combat_armor

When out of his armor and in his bandages still, he wears a ski mask over his head and a plaid shirt with long sleeves and khaki shorts.

Weapons: (Maximum of five)
Primary: M95 Barrett .50 Caliber Sniper Rifle slung over his back

Secondary: Glock 18

Melee: Rigged trench knife and a sheath for it on his hip.

Mac-11 SMG hanging of his hip


Skills / Abilities: Expert at hitting targets from long ranges. He is a good gun mechanic and a challenge for those who wish to fight hand to hand with him.

Faction: NCR Veteran Ranger

Bio: Max Gordy was born and raised in Zion Nation Park in the year 2261 to Desert Ranger parents. His parents, along with all Desert Rangers, tried to protect people from the dangers of the wasteland. As Max grew up in Zion, he developed many survival and hunting skills, such as creating medicine out of herbs or sniping a Bighorn with his dad's M95 Barrett. Max also developed loneliness because his parents were often off fighting the White Legs, a savage true that terrorized Zion.

In 2271, when he was ten years old, the Desert Rangers were absorbed into the NCR after they signed the "Ranger Unification Treaty." Max and his family had to move out of Zion and travel to the Mohave to fight Caesar's Legion. He and his parents lived at NCR Outpost Charlie 1 for six years.

One day at this Outpost, radio
communications suddenly stopped. The group stationed here could not get the station back online. With the station disabled, reinforcements and supplies could not be requested, and a distress call could not be made out.

The group at the outpost were stranded alone on a legion frontline, with no help and a perfect opportunity to be attacked. The Legion quickly used this advantage and lead a raid against the outpost after midnight. The group was caught off guard and were being attacked on all sides by an overwhelming amount of legion soldiers. Max's parents quickly were the first ones to arm themselves and fight back. But it was no use. After 20 minutes of fighting, Max watched as his mom and dad were shot dead from the advancing legions. Max, 16 years old, hid in the civilian tent the best he could. Little did he know the legion had plans for the tent, heck the whole outpost.

The legion began lighting the tents on fire. Max had no where to run and he was trapped by the flames that rose around him. The smoke made it hard for him to breathe, and soon the fire reached him. His skin was burned by the fire for a couple of minutes until he pulled himself out of the collapsed tent. Barely able to walk, he grabbed his dad's Desert Ranger Combat Armor and his mom's M95 Barrett .50 Caliber Sniper Rifle. Also, he took two other smaller weapons.

He bandaged himself the best he could and returned to Zion with his parent's bodies. He buried them onto of the Red Gate mountain and rested in Zion for a year until his skin recovered. His skin still contained the scares the fire gave him, but were not blackened and seriously injured. His skin burns every second of his life, so he puts on bandages to keep his skin free of infections. Also, he developed Asthma from all the fire ash and now has to use an inhaler every so often.

Max returned to the Mohave a year later at age 18 and joined the ranks of the NCR. Quickly demonstrating amazing soldier skills, he became a Veteran Ranger. Instead of wearing the black armor the others wore, he stuck to his parent's Desert Ranger Combat Armor.

He fought bravely at Hoover Dam for revenge of his parents and showed no mercy to any legionarries.

After the victorious battle, the NCR established "Spear City." Max decided to go work and settle down there. He traveled by train at first and walked the rest of the way. He is just about to hit the city's west gate.