Welcome to Grayditch. by: thekettleison

The mid-morning calm inside Moriarty's Saloon was suddenly shattered as the bar's door was barged open and three men entered, dragging a fourth between them. The dragged man had a cloth bag over his head and his hands were bound behind his back. The prisoner struggled weakly against his bindings, mumbling from within the sack.

As one of the captors approached the bar, the other two threw the prisoner to the floor, causing a brief cry of pain.

Behind the bar Gob, the ghoul, was idly polishing glasses with a stained rag. He looked up as the man approached him, raising an eyebrow. "What can I get for you today boys?" He rasped at the guy.

"Shut the [censored] up you [censored] zombie. Go and get your boss for me. Tell him we captured Rennie."

The ghoul disappeared, heading through a curtained door. The prisoner tried to struggle upright, groaning in pain as the ropes chafed at the skin of the man's wrists. After a while, he managed to get to his knees."You sure that's him?" A voice issued from behind the curtain, the question obviously directed at the people in the bar. "You sure that's Rennie?" The curtain was pulled aside as Colin Moriarty stepped into the room.

"Yeah boss, that's him. We found him hiding in Girdreshade. A day later and he'd have been gone."

"Good work." Moriarty was now close enough to the bar to see the kneeling man over its surface. "Get that [censored] sack off his head you idiots."

The bag was roughly torn from the prisoner's head, causing another quiet cry of pain as the darkness of the sack was suddenly replaced by the sunlight coming in throught the windows. The kneeling man squinted as he tried to allow his eyes time to adjust to the brightness. Eventually his vision cleared and the man found himself face to face with Colin Moriarty.

"Hello Joe, what do you know?"

"Not a lot."

"Ha! Always the same answer." Moriarty turned back to the mercs and threw a pouch of caps at them.
"Take these and get out, I need a quiet word with Joe here."

Once the mercs had left, Moriarty walked round the bar and took a seat in one of the stools. He sat looking down at his prisoner for a while before speaking. "Where's my equipment, Joe?"

"I don't have it, boss."

"I know you don't have it Joe, there was too much for you to carry alone, that's why I sent five men with you. What happened to them?"

"The Brotherhood happened, Colin. We sprung the ambush exactly as planned, then they ambushed us. Everyone was just blown apart. I did what I could boss."

"You mean you turned and ran as fast as your legs could carry you?"

"Like I said. All I could do boss. They were in power armour after all. Don't think my ten mil is really up to the task."

"How could you afford passage west?"

"Wait boss... You don't...."

"Don't what? Think you've double crossed me Joe? I know what you are, so I'd wipe the innocent look off your face right now. You are a thief, that's why I use you. I never thought you were a stupid thief. But now I wonder.."

"Colin... I.."

"Maybe you didn't. Maybe you did. Usually suspicion would be enough for me to just have you shot. But I lost out on a lot of caps with that job. Caps that you are going to repay."

"What?" Joe looked around himself, confused. "Why do I owe you?"

"Because I don't [censored] trust you. You might have ripped me off and I'm down weapons, ammo, equipment and half pay for five guys. Either you repay it. Or you die in my pub, today."

"Don't really leave me a choice does it. What's the job?"

"Let's talk a bit more comfortably," Moriarty said, turning his head, "Harold," he yelled, "Untie him and get him up."

The curtain was pulled aside once again and a freakishly large man walked into the room clutching a knife. Joe flinched away from the man as he loomed over him. Despite what Moriarty had just told him, Joe wasn't so sure he did have the option to live through today. The huge man leant down and grabbed Joe under one arm and dragged him to his feet. Joe cried out again, this time in panic as the huge man spun him round and slashed at the ropes with the knife.

He gasped in relief as the pressure in his wrists suddenly disappeared. He fell into another stool, rubbing at the red areas where the ropes had chafed at his skin.

"Here Joe, look at this." Moriarty said, sliding a paper flyer to him.

"What is it?"

"It's a signed pardon from President [censored] Eden. Just read it you [censored]."

Joe picked up the paper and ran his eyes over it.

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN OF THE CAPITAL WASTELAND.

I, Colin Moriarty, am pleased to announce that I have recently acquired the abandoned settlement of Greyditch.
There are several exciting opportunities for skilled workers within this new community.
We need builders, masons, plumbers, carpenters and other tradesmen to rebuild the town.
There will also be positions for cooks, farm hands and shopkeepers.
In return for work you will receive food and accommodation, at greatly reduced cost.
If you are interested then please come to see me at my bar in Megaton, or report directly to the welcoming committee in Grayditch.

Beneath the text was an artist's impression of what the rebuilt town would look like.

Joe looked at Moriarty over the top of the paper. "What the [censored] does this have to do with me?"

"You're going to help run it."

"I'm what? I'm a thief Colin, what do I know about running a town? You're joking right?"

Moriarty leaned forward so he was looking Joe directly in the eye. "I'm not known for my sense of humor Joe. Of course you don't know how to run a town, you'll have help with that. You are to be my head of security."

"Security?"

"Yes. At times traders will pass through town and I'll need you to use your skills to aquire certain items from them. At other times I'll need you to keep the stock of certain traders secret from the town."

"Why?"

"Two reasons. Firstly, the stock will sometimes be slaves and slavery is a dirty business I'd rather not be associated with. Secondly, you'll do it because I've [censored] told you to."

"So who's my help?"

"Good question. Gob, go and fetch Celeste for me."

The ghoul nodded quickly before hurrying out of the door. Moriarty watched Gob leave, then turned back to Joe.

"Celeste?" Joe asked.

"My daughter."

"I didn't know you had children."

"Neither did I until last week. She's a nice enough girl, but she's a [censored] embarrassment. I don't need rumours of bastard children damaging the leverage I have worked so hard for. You're going to keep her out of sight for me Joe. She's going to help you run the town. One thing though, she doesn't know about what we just discussed, about the traders. You'll keep it that way. Oh, before I forget..... You aren't planning on slipping away from Greyditch in the night or anything like that are you?"

"Of course not Colin."

"That's what I thought, but your face seemed to think different. I'll be sending Harold here as your assistant too. At least that is what you will tell anyone who asks."

"Ok, so what's his real job."

"Ha, smart enough to smell a catch still then Joe? Harold here was a bargain, I bought him from paradise falls a few years ago. He follows his orders to the letter. Quite rare to find a slave as usefull as him. Harold, why don't you tell Joe what your orders are."

The huge, hulking man stared directly into Joe's eyes as he answered. "I am to keep an eye on him," He pointed at Joe as he said this, "and if he tries to rip you off, tries to flee or tries to tell anyone what is really going on I am to kill him."

"I do believe there is one more order." Moriarty frowned.

"Yes sir. If he tries it on with your daughter, I am to pin him down, cut his teabag off and then shoot him."

Moriarty laughed when Harold had finished speaking. "He's not got much by way of imagination. But loyalty..... Anyway, do you have any questions before my bastard arrives? Make it quick before the stupid cow gets here."

"Ummmm... Nothing I can really think of."

"Good, now here, have a drink. You look like you thought you were going to die. Ha!" Moriarty poured a shot glass of vodka and slid it along the bar to Joe. "That'll be two caps."

A short while later Gob returned, accompanied by a young freckled woman. The freckles were not the first thing about the woman that Joe noticed. But after Moriarty's threats, via Harold, Joe swiftly raised his eyes to the woman's face.

"Ah, and there she is." Moriarty exclaimed, jumping up from his stool and crossing the room to her. "Joe, allow me to introduce you to my daughter Celeste. Apple of my eye so she is. Greatest hope for me increasing my empire." He stopped talking to pull the girl into a brief embrace.

"Dad, stop," the young woman giggled, though her expression showed how much she was loving the attention from her father, "you're embarrassing me in front of your friends here."

"Your friends, you mean. Joe here will be your partner in our new business venture. He's also going to be head of security. Harold is his assistant. Well, since you're all here now, you may as well set off. The first new residents should arrive in the next few days."

Name: Joe Rennie

Age: 30

six: Male

Basic physical attributes: Short and slim, but toned. Sort of handsome, in a scruffy way. With short dark hair and dark eyes. Very quick on his feet.

Clothing/Armour: Simple bluejeans with an old, mostly still white, teeshirt. Battered old boots and a dark leather jacket. Will wear a combat armour vest if he has enough warning to change.

Occupation: Head of town security.

Weapons: Primary:10mm pistol. Secondary:Switchblade.

Faction: Moriarty

Personality: Privately Joe is selfish, self centered and manipulative. Joe will always take the option that poses the least threat to him personally. He will happily allow others to die in order to save his own skin. His public image couldn't be further from this. When he speaks, people get the impression that they are in the company of a genuinley warm and approachable guy. He is quick witted, which makes him a good liar.

While Joe is a good shot and a proficiant fighter, he will really only fight as a last option. Prefering to slip away, while others fight and unknowingly cover his retreat.

Backstory: Joe was born and raised in Rivit City, but was exiled from the settlement by the council when he was caught stealing weapons from Flack and Shrapnel. After this Joe turned to a life of (mostly) petty crime. Signing on with a travelling caravan, posing as a guard and then sneaking away in the night with a rucksack full of stock.

Stolen guns would be sold on to the slavers of paradise falls. Medical supplies to Doc Church in Megaton. Never enough in one place to get noticed, but more than enough to get by.

After a few years of this, Joe began to take on bigger and more dangerous missions. Once even sneaking into the GNR studios and stealing broadcasting equipment for Allistair Tenpenny.

Things went wrong for Joe after he was hired by Collin Moriarty. Moriarty had heard rumours that a caravan would be passing through the area, carrying a large shipment of pre-war surveilence equipment.

Joe was hired along with five other mercenaries. The plan was for the mercs to attack the caravan and draw the guards away, during the confusion Joe was to sneak in and steal the equipment.

The only problem was, Moriarty wasn't the only one to have heard the rumours. As the mercs broke cover to begin the attack, they ran straight into a squad of Brotherhood of steel. As the mercs and caravan guards alike were torn apart in a hail of laser fire. Joe fled.

He took refuge in Girdershade for a few days while he tried to arrange passage west, but before he could leave more mercs stormed the town. They captured Joe and dragged him back to Megaton.

It turned out that Moriarty was so keen to have the surveilence equipment that each of the mercs had recieved half payment up front. Moriarty is now forcing Joe to work off the money he lost out on.

And

Name: Harold.

Age: ??? Appears to be in his mid-thirties.

six: Male

Basic physical attributes: A hugely muscled, brutish looking man. Harold has cropped, black hair. Physically incredibly strong. Has a mass of scars on his forhead that resemble a roadmap.

Clothing/Armour: Black combat armour. Looks like the same armour as Talon company use.

Occupation: Publicly Harold is Joe's assistant. In reality he is Joe's handler.

Weapons: Primary: Chinese assault rifle. Secondary: Sawn-off shotgun.

Faction: Moriarty

Personality: Harold is unquestioningly loyal to Moriarty and will follow any order from him to the letter. He is addicted to Buffout, which he uses to maintain his massive stature and is prone to bouts of rage if suffering from withdrawel. He has no sense of remorse and will not hesitate to kill or torture if ordered to.

Backstory: Not much is known about Harold's past. He was purchased from paradise falls several years ago by Moriarty and has been quite instrumental in the rise of Colin's business empire since.

Name: Mirvin.


Age: 209


six: N/A though refers to itself as a man.


Basic physical appearance and attributes: Mirvin is a modified protectron. His standard weapons no longer work, so his right hand/claw has been replaced with a sawn-off shotgun. His faceplate has a bluish tinge to it.


Weapons and armour: Sawn-off winchester 12 guage shotgun. This weapon can only hold 2 shots at a time, but Mirvin has a mechenism fitted to his arm which reloads for him. This can hold 8 more shells. After this it takes him a while to reload as his left claw isn't dextrous enough to load the shells.


Personality: Mirvin tries to be one of the guys, trying to crack jokes and the like but his blank emotionless face and simulated voice tend to make others uneasy in his company. Mirvin is completely driven by the final comand his former owner gave him.


Occupation: Mirvin is a skilled mechanic, although this is limeted to cars and motorbikes, so this may be a fairly useless skill.
He is good at foraging for supplies and is a quick and keen learner.


Faction: Grayditch.

Backstory: Mirvin was programmed as an assistant mechanic and sold to a small workshop that restored old 20th century classic cars. The workshop was quite remote and was unaffected by the blasts when the bombs fell. Most of the human mechanics were at work when the bombs fell and the workshop served as their' home and fort in the following years.

The owner of the garage, a man named Frank Horn, was also present that day and survived the war. Initially Horn led the community that sprouted and Mirvin was sent out with foraging parties and quickly grew quite adept at picking through scrap and finding useful parts. The group mostly kept to themselves, avoiding contact with traders and scouts from other settlements.

Eventually the workshop was discovered by raiders. Mirvin's weaponry was destroyed in the ensuing attack and several of the former workers were killed. The raiders were eventualy driven off, but the survivors were furious. They blamed Horn, claimed that he had neglected to arm and equip them. They claimed that Horn's insructions to forage for food and mechanical equipment, along with his orders to avoid contact with outsiders were to blame for them being unprepared.

They claimed that if they had been insructed to gather weapons instead they may have been able to defend themselves. After the ensuing power struggle Horn was banished. As he was the company owner Mirvin accompanied Horn. Horn eventualy settled in an abandoned shack. Mirvin would venture out and forage food and supplies for the increasingly infirm old man and Horn would perform basic maintinance on him.

In the shack they had found a winchester shotgun and plenty of scrap metal. With this Horn constructed a rig that replaced Mirvin's hand. To this he added a loading device as Mirvin had difficulty reloading. This allowed Mirvin to defend himself if he ever ran into anything hostile while gathering supplies.

The two remained in the shack for a few years but eventually Horn died of old age. Before he died Horn told Mirvin to leave him and go into the wasteland. He was a little senile towards the end and sometimes forgot that Mirvin was a robot.
He told him "I gotta thank you for all you done for me Mirvin. You're a good man, but you can't do any more for me. I want to be alone for a while. You should go on, get out of here and make a life for yourself."

Mirvin simply stood there. "Where should I go?" he asked.

"Anywhere son, just away from here. Take the shells, ain't no use to me anyhow. You got your gun, so you can take care of yourself. Just get on and try to find other survivors. Settle down, be part of a community, that kind of thing. Just don't come back here."

As this was a direct order from his owner, Mirvin had to comply. He gathered up the shotgun shells and left the shack looking for a life of his own.

So far he has been searching for one hundred and ninety seven years.

Name: James Wilson

Age: 32

six: Male

Basic physical appearance and attributes: tall, slim with a medium build. Short brown hair and bright blue eyes. , Very charming recently broke his left arm (unable to two- handed weapons for a while)

Weapons: scoped hunting rifle, 44 magnum w/ detachable scope and switchblade

Armour: blue combat armour & helmet, and this suit: (http://fallout.wikia...rocker%27s_suit) with a matching cowboy hat (sheiff's hat) and Authority glasses.


Personality: speaks with a Texan accent, James is a very nice, warm and Friendly person, doesn't hold any prejudices or racism attitudes towards any type of person, always polite to women
While james is a good fighter he will rarely kills anyonebut will burtally kill anyone that betrays him , his friends.
Whilst 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


Occupation: weapons store (does not sell ammo)

Faction: Greyditch but friendly with anyone

Back-story: James was born in ruins of Huston to rancher family when he was 17 years old Caesar legion attack his family ranch burning everyone and everything.
For 3 long months James hunted and killed everyone involved in the burning and then travelled east near setting down any longer that a few months.

5 years later James arrived in rivet city and started a caravan selling weapons to the near by towns but was regularly attacked by slavers on one particular attack James freed a slave mute slave call sue that decided to stay with James as personal bodyguard and soon becoming friends

Despite of the increasing attacks on James’s caravan grew and became very successful until two days ago, Talon Company ambushed his caravan only sue and James, with a broke left arm survived. After the attack James decided it was time to settle down along with rumour about Greyditch was being rebuilt. James decided to head there, with Sue and the remaining of weapons stock and headed to Greyditch to open a store

-----------------------------------------------------
(sue- James bodyguard)

Name: Sue cooper
Age: 29

six: female

Basic physical attributes: tall, lean, long black hair and blue eyes. has a small scar under on her neck from knife fight 10 years ago.


Clothing/Armour: leather armour mk2 , sunglasses


Occupation: james bodyguard & nurse (when he is ill)

Weapons: Primary: combat shotgun & throwing knife
Faction: anyone james sides with

Personality: Sue is a mute , and doesn't do much apart from following james around protecting him for the scum of the wasteland and looking after him when he is ill. sees james as the brother she never had.

Backstory: Not much is known about Sues's past apart from that she became a mute 10 years ago in a knife fight in Rivet city
.After James freed her several years ago she has been his loyal bodyguard and friend keeping him safe ever since.

Name: Ryler North

Age: 18

six: Male

Basic physical appearance and attributes: Caucasian. 5"8 in height, with a slender body build. Ryler has pale skin, despite roaming the wastes. He has an angular facial structure and pimply face, with deep set, intelligent blue eyes. Short, curly pale brown haired and clean shaven, a small, healed scar sits across his left cheek from where a feral dog scratched. His voice is suave, but breaks at certain pitches (for obvious reasons )

He has basic knowledge in medicine, intellectual (as in being able to read/write). He has never fired shots before in his life, or killed anything for that matter, let alone hurt a fly.

Weapons and armour: Ryler carries with him a
- 9mm pistol, with the initials E.N (Evan North, his [dead] father) carved on the bottom of the handle.
-Shiny, unused polished switch-blade.
-A machete with tick marks, scratches along the blade. It comes with a weathered, brown leather sheath attached to a black belt. It is not adehsive like it is in Fallout New Vegas.

Ryler wears:
-An olive bush jacket with a checkerd shirt under and a dirty, white T-shirt (there is NO Mona-Lisa face on it)
-Dirty cargo pants.
-An old, worn Pre-War tea towel to keep the dust out, that is wrapped around the his mouth and bridge of his nose
-Sunglasses
-And a dirty, beige cap.

With him, he carries one first-aid kit.

Personality: Ryler is a stubborn, youth and likes to be treated as an advlt, not a child. Ryler jumps to conclusions, often and has the attention span of a sparrow (unless he is determined or interested). Ryler will growl if ever interuppeted when doing something important, and brush you off. He is something of a perfectionist. Ryler is selfless, kind-hearted and compassionate. He has a sense between right and wrong.

Occupation: Medic

Faction: Greyditch

Backstory: Ryler was born to a safe community (Rivet City). His mother died from giving birth, and his father raised his only child with love. Ryler was taught by the scientist at Rivet City, gaining his intellect there. His father grew gravely sick of Leukemia when Ryler was 13 and died when he just turned 14. Ryler mourned his death for a long time. He took his father's pistol with him, but never used it. At 17 and a half, he and few other scientist went out into the field to study. The built a reasonable shack and lived there for the time being, studying the environment around them, wanting to change it without use of the GECK, but through science.

On his birthday, at age 18, Raiders well, raided the shack killing some of the people. Most were killed and the women [censored]. The forced the survivours to go down on their knees and produce chems, but the scientist protested they did not know how. With a fit of rage, a Raider fired his rifle into the head of one scientist and demanded. Survival instinct kicked into the last five surving scientist, fighting back. The used whatever they could. Beakers, flask....Hydrocolic acid. Everything they had. Ryler was determined to help, but his old friend stopped him from doing so, and told him to run. Ryler objected, protesting he would stay. Within a few minutes, raider and scientist lay dead, with him the only survivour. He was traumatised by the scene, shaken, then wept over the remains of those that cared for him. He scavenged the weapons of the dead, taking only the broad machete and switchbalde, then wondered outside, alone.

He has been travelling for two weeks, looking for civilisation. As he walked up a hill, he spots a little town in the far distance, known as Greyditch....

Name: Atarah "Zipporah" Dorcas

Age: 28

six: Female

Race: Caucasian

Basic physical appearance and attributes: Average build, reaching at 5'3. Despite being under the sun for so many years, her skin is pale, unlike many others. Her wavy, pale brown hair reaches her shoulders, her icy blue eyes are kind, and her smile soft showing a good pair of teeth. Her body is painted with ugly scars, all healed and white, a chemical burn, the size of the average man's palm is branded onto her left shoulder. A large scar runs from her back shoulder to her waist. Would be considered pretty of she weren't covered in grit and scars.

She is and all-rounder when it comes to combat; her offence is the best defence. She is quick on her feet. Due to years of drugs and human flesh, her body is prone to illness. Shakes occur randomly. Her reading and writing skills is that of a fifth grader.

Weapons and armour: Atarah carries with her a Scoped Hunting Rifle with the words, "Justice" etched on its side. She also holds a 44. Magnum with "Redemption" carved onto its side also. By Atarah's side is narrow knife, the handle is bound in red ox blood leather.

She wears a Merc Grunt outfit.

Personality: Atarah holds mercy with her tightly. She is charismatic; the sort of person you'd go to when feeling down. Atarah can be stubborn and aggresive. If she thinks of something she sticks to it, unless someone she feels inclined to convinces her otherwise. Atarah will always be there to pick you up; her loyalty remains firm.

At times, her old hateful and arrogant nature brews within. Her ways can be violent and crooked. Her past haunts her to this day.

Occupation: Regulator

Faction: Greyditch

Backstory: Born into a bloody wasteland from a family of Raiders, she grew up with their ways. She subccumbed to sadism; her life was like that of every typical raider - revolving around murder, torture, drugs and six. During each raid, her heart was blackened with evil.

One time, however she and a group of raiders found a small house, and in it, a family of four. The raiders murdered the family, not even giving a moment to spare the family. The young family soon became their "dinner". This was not the first time Atarah tasted human flesh.

As she grew older, she became a "plaything" for the raiders; her life was pulled down even further. She came into drugs, until it became a daily pill for her. Withdrawls attacked her whenever she didn't have a fix.

As the years past, it seemed like there was no way out. On her last raid, yet another family was attacked, but this time, the father muttered something only she could hear. The words bugged her, and she soon wanted to come out of the raider's life.

Being the stupid girl she was, Atarah marched right up to her father and told him she was leaving. This angered the raiders, so they beat her, and cut her body. A small jar of acid was thrown at her, burning her shoulder. The raiders threw her half-dead body far out on the wasteland to die. She would not exist today had a passing wasteland doctor not come by.

She became a Christian and close friends with the doctor. They travelled together and soon bonded into a relationship. The doctor was killed and tortured when a group of Talon Company Mercs ambushed them, knocking her out. One Merc hit him hard that his own fist needed tending too.

Now lonely, she wanders the wateland endlessly. Three years have passed, of going from town to town. Now, she wants to plant roots down and settle down somewhere - make some close friends and live in a good community.

As she wanders, Atarah finds a small note about Grayditch buried beneath the sand...

Name: Brandy Brooks

Age: 20

six: female

Appearance/attributes: Brandy has lightly tanned skin, dark brown hair just below her shoulders. She is about 5'7" tall, slender build, green eyes and a scar above her left eye. She is book smart, but lacks the necessary survival skills to travel the Wasteland on her own. Even though she is good at constructing and creating things, she's accident prone.

Weapons/armor: Hammer, wrench, and Combat knife. Black cargo pants, white t-shirt black framed glasses and a dirty red baseball hat.

Personality: Brandy is friendly, and kind. She tends to blab about the things that she has read in her pre-war books. She is a big dreamer, fueled by the books she reads.

Occupation: builder, moonshiner

Faction: Greyditch

Backstory: Brandy and her brother Ricky were raised by their grandparent, Bob and Cathy, in northern Michigan.
Brandy and Ricky grew up in the family business of distilling their own alcohol, better known as Papas Potion. Cathy taught Brandy from mostly pre-war books, as she was the homemaker and didn't venture out to much. During the warmer months, Brandy enjoyed working with her Papa repairing and or building new structures around the settlement and surrounding areas.
When Brandy turned 18, her inquisitive nature had her yearning to explore the Wasteland. She had never been far from home at all. Ricky, now 21, had traveled with his buddies and the stories they told only made Brandy long to experience it for herself.
At 19 Brandy's grandfather passed away, and her grandmother Cathy told her to follow her heart. Cathy convinced Ricky to let Brandy tag along on their next expedition. Reluctantly, Ricky said he would take her.
Now 20 years old, it was Brandy's job to set up camp and prepare meals. Other than traveling during the day, Ricky wouldn't let her do much else. He told Brandy when they started getting closer to D.C. That he would let her scavenge with them.
Her lack of knowledge and clumsiness drove Ricky and his friends crazy. One day they tried to teach her to shoot a .32 pistol. Brandy was so jittery wanting to impress him, accidentally squeezed off a round grazing his leg. Ricky automatically reacted by swinging a tire iron at her. It nailed on the left side of her forehead leaving a large gash and rendered her unconscious. Ever since that day the guys wouldn't let her touch a gun.
Stuck with setting up camp, and bored out of her mind, Brandy would drink the whiskey they had made. Only wrecking her relationship with her brother even more.

Name: Jamie T. Taylor 'J.T.'

Age: 30

six: male

Basic physical appearance and attributes: he is six feet tall, 170 pounds, long dirty blonde hair and scruffy beard, brilliant blue eyes. He has a scar across his back, from shoulder to shoulder, from a Mirelurk.

Weapons and armour: JT carries a hunting rifle, silenced 10mm pistol, and a switchblade. His clothing consists of brown work boots, worn out blue jeans, white tank top under a brown leather duster, with a pair of sunglasses. He also totes around his antique acoustic guitar, around his neck is a leather boot lace turned necklace. He places the guitar picks he makes onto it, usually around 6 or so.

Personality: JT is a charming, charismatic person. Prefers a mellow, laid back lifestyle. Some people think he's lazy, but he is quite quick when he needs to be. He can get along with almost anyone, but disrespect his mother, or guitar, and you have a problem. When JT is provoked, he does have a violent streak that will rear its ugly head, in part to his BoS training.

Occupation: Wasteland wanderer

Faction: Greyditch

Backstory: JT, the middle of three sons to Mitch and JoAnne Taylor, was raised in the ruins of Atlantic City, Georgia. Mitch, a well known businessman, helped a great deal with the rebirth of the city. He had rebuilt an old hotel into a casino of sorts. JoAnne managed the in house restaurant and kept tabs on the more permanent tenants. JT had met many, many people, some who stayed awhile would teach or show him different things. JT had a vast knowledge of many different skills, but not particularly great at to many of them. One day, when JT was sixteen, a beautiful girl around his age showed up, her name was Haley. Her parents planned to live there for awhile. She carried a strange looking suitcase with her, JT introduced himself, and they had an almost instant friendship. She explained it was a guitar case, and eventually taught him to play it.

Over the course of the next two years, when JT wasn't working, the two of them were together. JT and Haley were inseparable, teenagers in love as JoAnne put it. JT developed a deep affection for music, particularly, the guitar. JT's father supported the Brotherhood of Steel immensely, he provided tech when he came across it, and finances. Mitch told the boys he was sending them to the Citadel for training, that he had made a deal with the BoS. His brothers wanted nothing more but JT, wanted nothing to do with it. Mitch forced him to go anyways, JT was extremely bitter and sick of the thought of leaving Haley.

JT completed training, eventually going awol. He did not like many of the means the Brotherhood used to procure their 'new' tech. While he was away, Mitch began dabbling in other areas, one in particular was becoming a slaver. In his casino, if you borrowed from the casino and lost, you really lost. Mitch would own you, if the poor soul was lucky, they would only have to work for Mitch, whether in his fields, on his buildings, or a casino prosttute.

When JT returned home five years later, Haley was a shadow or her former self. Much worse, JoAnne had passed due to a Jet overdose, Haley was now forced to be Mitches girl. JT, not only disgusted with his fathers new foray for making money, his now cruel demeanor and relentless pursuit of money and power. One night, while his father was passed out drunk, JT poisoned him. His brothers were killed serving the BoS, unaware of this, JT ultimately inherited his fathers businesses.

In an attempt to right what had been wronged. JT kept the savings of his fathers, but turned control of the casino over to the people Mitch had enslaved. Haley and JT ventured west, settling in Little Rock. They established a little restaurant, and enjoyed what they had, glad to be away from the haunting memories of Atlantic City. The couple wed, and all looked promising, they were even expecting a child. Haley died during childbirth, devastated, JT left with no particular place set in his mind. That was when he was twenty sixe years of age, now four years later, he continues to wander, carrying his two loves on his back. Haly's guitar, and the gift of music she had shared with him.

Name: Calypso

Age: 31

six: female

Basic physical appearance and attributes: Caucasian, Five foot nine inches and well toned. Fair complexion, long black corn-rows hair. She has mixed eye color - one blue one green - and wears sunglasses most of the time to conceal them. She is pretty, but has burn marks on her neck and a scar that runs down from her left eye to her jaw line. Calypso also has a Chinese dragon tattoo sleeve that wraps around her left arm, and ends on her shoulder blade. She uses prostitution to lure people to fulfill her deeds, to enslave, or to set traps for people.

Skills: Extremely skilled in melee weaponry, especially blades because they are silent.

Weapons and amour: Primary weapons is a Shishkabob, secondary is a Deathclaw gauntlet, and her side arm is a short sword. She wears black leather armor under an hooded black cloak with two Deathclaw horns on each shoulder of the cloak , black leather boots modified with silver toes with spikes.

Personality: She is arrogant, sadistic, selfish, and cruel. Is a superficial charmer as well, which ends up very badly for those who fall for her act. She is also a cannibal, who enjoys watching people suffer. Seeing people in pain and desperation only fuels her sick and twisted soul. At times, she gets too full of herself, and makes no attempt whatsoever to hide her intentions.

Occupation: Slaver

Faction: Moriarty

Backstory: Calypso's family was slaughtered and fed upon by a group of Chinese remnants. Her life was being spared because the remnants believed her to be a sacred warrior sent from King Yama, the ruler of the Ten Courts of Hell. Raised by an ex-Chinese soldier only known as Sensei Lee in the Canadian territory, Calypso was taught to live by any means necessary. Secluded from civilization, that meant hunt or be hunted, this included the occasional humans that would cross the territory.

She was taught the arts of combat daily and religiously treasures her weapons of death.

As Sensei used to say:

"These are your tools, these weapons are to be an extension of your body, mind and soul. They are your means of survival, meant to deliver death to ALL, who oppose you child. These are your weapons of death, treat them as part of you."

At age ten, Calypso was tasked to prove her worth - to prove that she was indeed sent from King Yama as the remnants believed her to be. She was sent into the wilderness for seven days with a Samurai sword, and nothing more than rags for clothing, and returned. . . .

Character Sheet:

Name: Shelby Jackson

Age: 26

six: female

Basic physical appearance and attributes: Shelby has pale skin, she stands at five foot six inches tall, bright blue eyes, thin lips and a slender face. Shelby has a delicate frame, and is not nearly as strong as Calypso. Shelby also wears Calypso's trademark, corn rowed hair, hers being blonde and black. She is missing her pinky finger on her left hand, scars on her back from being whipped, and has a dragon tattoo down her right leg. (Similar to Calypso's)

Weapons and armour: Bladed staff, Samurai sword, Mezz gun

Personality: Shelby hangs on Calypso's every word, she is obedient and extremely loyal to Calypso. She is very smart, and creative with constructing weapons, and various slaving tools. Shelby is relatively quiet, in Calypso's presence. Away from Calypso, she can be quite the little pvssyr box. Like the saying goes, while the cats away, the mice will play, it could not be more true with Shelby.

Occupation: Calypso's protege, she primarily makes weapons and slaving tools. Shelby also does a majority of Calypso's slave running.

Faction: whomever Calypso decides, in this case, Moriarty.

Backstory: Shelby was a mischievous child, growing up in North Battleford, a small reestablished settlement, in the Canadian Providence of Saskatchewan, it was a relatively quiet place. After being taught to read and write, she would study anything she could get her hands on. Shelby held a fascination for melee combat, since she was too young for a gun, Shelby would create swords, staffs, and spears from the remainder of petrified trees. Shelby's parents constantly scolded her, the people of the settlement would voice their displeasures with her as well.

At the age of ten, Shelby made her first Nuka grenade, to test it out, she tossed it in the settlements brahmin pen. Needless to say, this caused an uproar with the community. Her parents, unable to corral her enthusiasm for chaos, were faced with a daunting decision. They were forced to decide between, having her stay with the town sheriff, a corrupt man Mr. Fusiler was, but he kept the piece in the settlement. Or, they must pack up their family, leave, and never come back. They had no caps, barely enough weapons to hunt with, let alone defend themselves in the wasteland. Her parents relinquished her to Mr. Fusiler.

As Shelby began maturing into a young woman, Mr. Fusiler would abuse her, in various ways. This caused her to fester an hatred for everyone in the settlement. The once friendly, outgoing youth, was becoming a wolf in sheep clothing. At fourteen years of age, she heard rumors of a crazed woman, who with her Chinese remnants, were en slaving and slaughtering towns on her way to the States. Shelby had hoped, the Battleford would lie in her path.

Just after Shelby turned fifteen, her wishes came true. As the local hunters returned with horrific news, the crazed woman, Calypso, had stormed through Lloydminster, and was heading to Battleford. News of this sent everyone into a panic, Shelby relished every second, as she watched the towns people scurry to set up defenses. Mr. Fusiler locked Shelby in the backroom of his barn, as he did so many times before. Over the course of the last year, since Shelby first heard the rumors of Calypso, she had been preparing for this day to come. She would pick the lock to the barn door, and at night, would pilfer various things. Shelby made a staff like no other, using a pair of lawnmower blades, a conductor, braided fuel lines and flamer fuel.

Gunfire erupted, along with screams of the people Shelby had grown up with, it actually made her smile, as most of the town has shunned her. They were getting what they deserved, having never taken her accusations of Mr. Fusiler's disgusting acts. Shelby pulled up the wood plank in the floor, where her staff resided, looking it over as she picked it up. She picked the lock on the door, cautiously, she snuck outside. Shelby watched, as Calypso masterfully orchestrated her minions in the takeover of Battleford.

Catching some movement behind some brush, Shelby saw Mr. Fusiler take aim at Calypso's back. Igniting her staff, she sprung from her spot, Mr. Fusiler yelled for her to run. Instead, Shelby spun around, and with a loud swoosh and the crackle of flames, she sliced his stomach wide open. Mr. Fusiler's son sought to attack Shelby, she kneeled down, sweeping her staff upward, stabbed the young man in his throat. Shelby heard someone clapping, "Bravo darling, bravo" a dramatic voice called out. Turning to find, Calypso walking over to her, Shelby placed her staff on the ground.

"Take me with you" her blue eye sparkled, awaiting Calypso's answer. She saw two of Calypso remnants restraining her parents as they called to her. Calypso looked at them, then back to Shelby, picking up Shelby's staff.

"Prove you are indeed worthy of such a request" Calypso said, handing Shelby the staff.

Shelby walked over to her parents, without hesitation, they pleaded, apologizing profusely for anything they had ever done to the girl. None of it fazed her, she spun the staff, and executed them right there, no tears, no remorse. She looked at Calypso, she smiled back at Shelby, "very well done indeed, we shall hone your skills my dear, come now."

It has been eleven years since then, Shelby has grown into a woman, Calypso's protege. Calypso shares a special bond with Shelby, a mother like bond. The only person, beside Sensei Lee, that she has ever cared for.

(OOC - now you know who made Calypso's Shiskebob ;) )

Name: Maureen Ashley O'Conner (Crimmer)

Age: 22

six: female

Basic physical appearance and attributes: five foot five inches tall, natural bright red, wavy hair to her shoulders, curious green eyes, cute but skinny. She has freckled cheeks and a few on her nose. Her skin has a pasty tone, she sunburns easily.

Weapons and armour: Plasma rifle, Laser rifle, combat knife. Her armor is very unique, if not looks like a joke. She has a pair of too big, leather armored pants. Forearm plates and a chest plate from too big of combat armor. She drilled holes in them in order to tie them on with leather belts and leather boot laces. She wears all of this with her dirty, yellow parkstroller dress. She also wears a pair of night vision goggles.

Personality: Crimmer is flighty, easily distracted and can be immature. She has a quirky sense of style, and is very friendly. She has two nervous habits, bouncing her leg and chewing on her fingernails, she also plays with her hair a lot. Easily irritated when interrupted while she is focusing on a project, or her studies.

Occupation: energy weapons repair, and scavenging

Faction: (either Moriarty – side with the crooked nature of the town's economy, or Greyditch – against hijacking and prefer to establish a more legit economy)

Backstory: Maureen's parents had set out for the D.C. Area when she was six. Her mother was a Jet addict, her father was a trader. Maureen's parents felt it best to leave her at an orphanage. She spent the next several years at the orphanage, where she was relentlessly picked on about her bright red hair, and freckles. Maureen would get so upset, she would end up getting in a fight practically every week early on.

When Maureen turned ten, a new girl came to the orphanage, Janet, she was twelve and a kind girl. She helped Maureen in many ways, including how to ignore the taunts of others. Maureen learned to embrace the nickname, Crimmer, loosely based from Crimson, due to her hair. The next three years flew by, and things were better, less fights, she took up reading, she read every book the orphanage had, and was able to help in the lunchroom.

One day while baking some rolls for lunch, a new boy, Justin, started in picking on her. He said some nasty stuff to the now thirteen year old girl. Crimmer bit her tongue, keeping her temper in check. Until, Justin called her a fire crotch, she clutched the rolling pin she had been using, and charged him. Justin wasn't expecting this, he only sought to get a rise out of her, he did, in the form of a rolling pin smashing into his face several times. Crimmer profusely apologized for her actions, but to no avail, she was made to leave the orphanage.

Crimmer became a proficient scavenger, and self taught herself, through various books she would discover in abandoned houses, to repair, heal, and defend herself. By the time she was fifteen, she had ventured to Florida. There she was recruited by a group called the Illuminators. Based at the, reconstructed University of Florida campus. Where Dr. Graffton, head of the Illuminators, along with his colleagues, taught the importance of preserving education and the technology of electronic weaponry. Though, their means were often questioned. The suitable students, those who had a higher GPA, upon graduation, would be ghoulified. This was done, to ensure all that was taught, would live on for generations.

Smart, but better suited for weapons repair, Crimmer was what they called, a gatherer. It is there, that she honed her scavenging skills. Crimmer had rebuilt the laser rifle she had arrived with, she overclocked its internal mechanisms. This provided one and a half times the power, but obviously, it burned more microfusion cells. Having seen what plasma weapons were capable of, she wished to have her very own plasma rifle. That day came when she was nineteen years old, one day while out with her group, gathering prewar books, and items to be used for the school. It had been discarded, broken, and the electron booster was shot. Though, none of it mattered, the university had all of the replacement parts needed to repair the rifle. Crimmer returned it to perfect working, and cosmetic condition. Often times, her plasma rifle was superior to that of the ones the Enclave possessed in the area.

Just after Crimmer's twentieth birthday, a war broke out between two rival factions. Neither faction were successful, and the war came to a stalemate. The factions regrouped, and re supplied, seeking recruits from nearby. Crimmer went to speak with Dr. Gaffton one afternoon. Outside his office, she heard the intelligent ghoul speaking to someone. The ever nosy redhead pressed her ear to the door, eavesdropping on the conversation. What she heard shocked her, Dr. Graffton agreed to aid the GGP in their war. Crimmer was mortified, and fled back to her dorm.

Crimmer snuck into the repair facility, and made her way to the storeroom. She grabbed a chest plate to some combat armor, pre-war night vision goggles, armored leather pants, various forearm armor pieces and two dozen micro fusion cells. Stuffing her knapsack to the brim, she made her way back to her dorm as stealthy as she could. Once her sack's contents were strewn over her bed, she grabbed up the armor, taking it to the machining area. There, she drilled holes, fashioned straps from medical braces, leather belts, and leather boot laces. See, Crimmer was petite, so finding armor to fit her right, well, it was almost impossible. Besides, in the area the school was, there wasn't as much need for it as in D.C.

Packed and ready to go, Crimmer strapped her armor on, and pulled the leather pants up under her dress. The mismatched armor allowed her to move freely, and most important of all, it fit.

The school, in their teachings, often spoke of monuments, museums, and other items of interest in the D.C. area, with that in mind, Crimmer made her way north. What intrigued her most was, the Underworld. She stayed in the crammed community for some time. Exploring the various museums, her friend Winthrop and her, helped keep the place running. She had even found an old souvenir, an Abraham Lincoln figurine which she treasured.

One day, while out looking for scrap metal, Crimmer came across a flier. She at down and read it, Colin Moriarty, whoever that was, was re establishing a settlement called Grayditch. He offered jobs and housing to those willing. Ideas of her very own shop came to mind, and to be able to help start something new and exciting. The ghouls had mixed emotions when she returned, informing them of her new adventure. They were happy for the smoothskin, but would miss her, but it was in her best interest. Tulip would miss her most of all, as Crimmer would bring her many of the items she sold in her shop. Crimmer's eyes were filled with happiness, and sadness. Violent helped her get past the mall before saying farewell to the quirky girl, and wishing her the best.

Name: Frank Smith a.k.a Silas Hand

Age: 37

six: male

Basic physical appearance and attributes: quite greasy black, long hair. rather pale, lean and tall. walks with a slight shuffle from a damaged back, would be considered somewhat handsome if he didnt have such a sinister look to his eyes.

Weapons and armour: leather armor hidden underneath a simple black blazer, black tshirt and trousers. weapons include a silenced 9mm pistol, dagger, straight razor and other selection of knifes.

Personality: wants to be 'normal' but comes off very creepy. is not used to interacting with others unless it is with as blade, but tries to blend in.

Occupation: barber (ex-assassin)

Faction:grayditch

Backstory: Used to be a first class assassin, the best in his field. only retired as a unfortunate mission had gone awry. As he was sneaking his way across the victim's home, the warped wood of the roof gave way and smashed upon his sleeping prey. Luckly crushing and breaking his neck, but damaging Frank's back in the process. So unable to walk properly he could no longer be stealthy within his work (and he looked down upon flat out just killing his targets, what kind of assassin can't be underhand as possible?), he decided to go straight and live a 'normal' life with a 'normal' job as a barber. After all he is already skilled with a blade. And with that in mind, he set for Grayditch.

Looks like-

http://www.celebs101...er_Walken_9.jpg

Name: Bob Dobbs

Age: 35

six: M

Basic physical appearance and attributes: Caucasian, brown hair and eyes. 6', wiry and in good shape. Scars on left side, arm and leg, also hard of hearing in his left ear due to injuries suffered in combat against the BoS.

Weapons and armour: .45-70 Single Shot Rifle (w/detachable scope), Police Pistol, Combat Knife. Roving trader hat, wears suit of Rivet City Combat armor (Rivet City property marks struck out) if getting into combat, a Roving Trader outfit otherwise. Has a basic set of hand tools. Has a pack Brahmin that he may or may not sell once he reaches Greyditch.

Personality: Comes across as taciturn and somewhat aloof to strangers due to his fear of discovery and the fact he hasn't entirely come to terms yet with living amongst the people he had been practically raised from birth to regard as the Enemy....though meeting people over the years has worn away his hate of Wastelanders and resentment over the destruction of his faction. Now he's mainly concerned with staying alive, and lately has thought to himself it was better that the Enclave had failed as most of the people he has met didn't deserve to be killed as Eden had decreed. To people he knows (his fellow remnants and people he worked with in his various jobs), he's loyal, thoughtful and has a wry sense of humor. Would like to take a wife and settle down but sees that as problematic as he is basically a fugitive.

Occupation: Enclave Remnant- Combat Engineer

Faction: Grayditch

Backstory: Born in a Enclave facility in Southern Illinois, near what was Scott AFB near St Louis. As Eden began re-building the Enclave's strength, he had outlying outposts send their children East for incorporation in the Enclave's armed forces as they reached fighting age. Drafted at 16, Dobbs was brought to Raven Rock and then sent to Adams AFB for training. Induction testing showed a talent for mechanical repair, explosives and small arms so he was assigned to a Combat Engineer Company. Trained as a Combat Engineer, Dobbs is proficient at building field fortifications and erecting buildings, as well as the use of explosives and small arms but his main specialization is construction, specifically plumbing. By 2277 Dobbs was a Sergeant and led the squad that made up his Company's plumbing shop.

When the Enclave seized the Jefferson Memorial in 2277, Dobbs and his squad was transferred there from Raven Rock to support the scientists and technicians trying to bring the facility online. While they were able to provide considerable assistance, they were not scientists and were not directly involved with trying to get the purifier started. When Liberty Prime made it's famous assault on the Memorial, the Lone Wanderer and Lyon's Pride close behind, Dobbs and his men were ordered into the Taft Tunnels to hold open Col. Autumn's line of retreat once it was clear the giant robot could not be stopped. Autumn and his bodyguards escaped the purifier one step ahead of the Lone Wanderer and Lyon's Pride, and together with Dobbs and his men they escaped into the maze of tunnels under Washington. Fighting their way clear of the city, Autumn and his men parted ways with them and haven't been seen since. Dobbs and his men eventually rejoined with surviving Enclave forces and fought in the futile campaign to slow the Brotherhood's momentum. When Adams AFB was taken and the Mobile Crawler destroyed by the Lone Wanderer, the Enclave forces dissolved as all their leaders were now dead or missing, and their bases captured or destroyed.

Of the eight men and women in his squad the day the Brotherhood marched on the Purifier, only Dobbs and four others had survived. Realizing the Enclave was finished, they decided to go to ground and make what life they could in the Capital Wasteland or elsewhere. Hiding, selling, or discarding their equipment, they separated....but maintained contact...and blended into the mass of Wastelanders and hoped no one found out about their former allegiance. For the past several years Dobbs has worked mainly as a caravan guard, afraid to settle too long in one place...supplemented by odd jobs using his trade skills. For the past year he had been working for Rivet City security escorting water caravans, a well paying job but fraught with danger as Rivet City worked closely with the Brotherhood and the risk of discovery was high. Finding a flier for Grayditch, and a chance meeting with Susie Mack, Vault 101's Trader, in Rivet City's Market gave Dobbs an idea of how he could finally settle down safely.

Susie told him that Vault 101 was looking to upgrade their security forces, and the Overseer was reluctant to involve the Lone Wanderer due to past incidents. Dobbs decided to sell his suit of Hellfire Armor, which he had hidden and didn't dare wear anyway, to Vault 101 (and train one or more of their security guards in it's use) and trade for or buy tools to set himself up as a tradesman in the new town of Grayditch. Since it was a new settlement people didn't know each other and he stood a excellent chance of fitting in without having too many questions asked.

Dobb's intention is to set up shop as a plumber and/or mason, both skills he is proficient at. While he has no problem with it being known he is proficient with firearms his knowledge of military explosives will be kept carefully hidden unless events make it necessary to reveal it. The only item of Enclave issue on Dobbs is his old ID card....sewn into the base of his tool bag.

Name: Jeeves

Age: 209

six: n/a

Basic physical appearance and attributes: Jeeves is a General Atomics/Robco Type II Mr. Handy robot in good repair.

Weapons and armour: Has the standard weapons of a Mr. Handy, a buzz-saw and a blow torch, both of which double as tools or effective close combat weapons if necessary. Also has the optional built in maintenance tool kit and spotlight.

Personality: Equipped with the standard “English Butler” persona. Like most Mr. Handy/Mr. Gutsy robots that have been active for a extended time, Jeeves somewhat resents doing the bidding of humans and makes snide and sarcastic comments…and/or engages in passive-aggressive behavior…when it feels it can get away with it. His last owners, the Chinese remnants, kept it shut down when they did not need it so Jeeves has only a limited knowledge of events since the Great War. Jeeves is loyal to it’s owner, as long as it is not abused.

Occupation: Domestic servant / Maintenance robot

Faction: Jeeves is "here because we’re ‘ere". He will be full of synthetic zeal for whatever cause it’s owner believes in, but secretly doesn’t care in the slightest. It merely obeys the commands from it’s owner…sometimes too literally if the end result promises to be amusing.


Backstory: Built at the Robco plant outside DC in March, 2070 as a special order from it’s first owner, George Pedersen. Pedersen, a former Congressman from Indiana, retired from Congress after the 2068 Election to collect a fat pension while cashing in on his contacts on the Hill and in the War Department to make even more money as a lobbyist for Robco. Having recently come into possession of a picturesque home near Tyson’s Corner, VA….a small to moderate sized Federal-era mansion called ‘Greyditch House’ that needed more upkeep than he was willing to do himself, he purchased Jeeves under Robco’s “Employee Purchase Program”, a clever ploy by Mr. House to not only spy on key employees, but get them to unwittingly pay for it too…..albeit at a 60% discount from retail pricing and generous financing terms.

For the next seven years, Jeeves faithfully fulfilled his duties to the Pedersen family, doing domestic tasks, helping maintain the house and garage, ect….while secretly spying on Pedersen for Mr. House….until the War came. The Pedersens survived the exchange, but died several weeks later in the fallout shelter under the house from radiation poisoning. The fallout shelter, adapted from a secret section of the basemant and connected to the main sewer line by a short tunnel put into place in the 1840s when Grayditch House was a stop on the Underground Railroad, was not deep or shielded enough to protect it’s occupants from the massive radiation from dozens of Chinese dirty bombs.

Having outlived it’s owner, and with noone to give it orders, Jeeves eventually connected itself to it’s maintenance/charging/refuelling port and shut down. There it was found by it’s next owner, soldiers of the People’s Liberation Army, 20 years later.

A squad of Chinese commandos exploring the sewer lines looking for a place to set up a listening post stumbled upon the disused section of sewer line connected to the house and coming into possession of a key to the door from George’s corpse, found the house and the robot and moved in. For the next 180 odd years, they lived under Grayditch House, filing reports with their HQ at Mama Dolce’s that ended up in the remaining mainframes in China’s defense network where they were never read…and amusing themselves by preying on any unfortunate Wastelanders that stayed in what was now called Grayditch too long, or tried to occupy the house. They used Jeeves to maintain the house so it didn’t collapse around them, but not trusting it they shut him down when not engaged on any tasks.

Ironically, Jeeves is also filing reports that are never read (at least since 2077). Whenever it connects to it’s maintenance port, it’s new memory files are automatically copied for broadcast to Robco's Corporate Network via Robco’s private constellation of COMSATs. But since the Great War, no one ever reads them, nor is it even clear anything or anyone is even receiving the infrequent messages relayed through the remnants of Robco's satellite communication network. When the system was fully operational before the War, a authorized user with the necessary clearance (Robco Security or a company Executive) could remotely access Jeeves’s sensors within a mile of the house or the Robco factory in the Southern Capital Wasteland. Whether anyone has done so, or even if it is still possible, is unknown.

Name: David O'Riley

Age: 24

six: Male

Basic physical appearance and attributes: A tall and slender man, standing in at around 6'0". He has short, wavy, dirty blonde hair often unkempt because of lack of care and blue eyes. His face is angular in shape. Many people upon encounters shoot under when making assumptions about his age, 16 being the youngest, but people generally go for 19. He's an expect marksman, tracker, scout, hunter-gatherer and such jobs often require weapons with excellent maintenance, the striping and cleaning of his rifle being a daily ritual. Years of travelling have taught him valuable lessons of survival. He is, however, hopeless with hand-to-hand combat, but he often makes sure no one gets close enough to try anything.

Weapons and armour: DKS-501 Sniper Rifle, a prized possession which has been passed down from father to son for four generations. The weapon never leaves his sight, and despite its age it's remarkably well looked after and appears to be brand new. His secondary choice is a .44 Magnum, picked for its stopping power at close distance for when his rifle can't get the job done. Though, it's often kept in its holster.

Clothing wise, it's foreign... At least to the people of the East. He wears the duster coat of an NCR Ranger, with light clothing and a duster scarf around his neck. He ditched the armour attachments long ago. The ability to move rapidly and cross distances in a short time would only be hampered with armour in his opinion. But there appears to be a pouches on his belt, strap on attachments or pockets somewhere on him that is home to some piece of equipment.

Personality: A man who is very straight to the point, quiet and distance he doesn't like to stay in one location for too long. Not to say he isn't a friendly sort, he'll go out of his way help most people, people who appear decent to him. But his nature of rarely interacting with people often make certain folk suspicious, but as long as he has the caps, and the ability to get a job done. Then they ain't complaining.

Occupation: Hireling; guard, scout, hunter

Faction: Greyditch

Backstory: Born in California, Shady Sands. David grew up in a stable and "civilized" location. His father was an explorer on the behalf of the Followers of the Apocalypse and former NCR Ranger and mother was a member of the Followers of the Apocalypse.

The combination of the two led to much of his life travelling around much of the South-West America, with the Followers and his father, which have attributed to many of his skills. When he came of age, David didn't feel that military life suited him, the life of travelling made him feel free and that if he joined the army he'd only be caged up. So he remained with the Followers, rather than sign up with the NCR military. Bringing an end to four generations of NCR soldiers.

When rumours of a Brotherhood of Steel expedition to the East circulated, David's parents decided on their own expedition to the East. A small expedition of Followers willing to accompany them, along with hired guards was formed. They spent much of their early travels with settlers and Mormon missionaries.

Encounters with tribal's was often a danger, some greeted them with friendly curiosity, providing food and shelter. And many were outright hostile, and resulted in the deaths of more than had hoped.

Eventually they reached D.C. but to be considered an arm of the Followers was in doubt. Though they attempted to carry on with their original plans of bringing the "torch of knowledge to the wastes," however without some form of organization within the D.C. area, the task was just as hard as the journey.

By time they discovered Rivet City, they were barely even a Fellowship. Eventually breaking apart and going their separate ways. Despite having spent the past four years in D.C. David has developed a distaste of the place and desires to return back to NCR territory. However, with his parents being older than they used too and the addition younger brother of four. He knows that the chances of them making it back are slim.

Name: Amelia Kovac

Age: 23

six: Female

Basic physical appearance and attributes: Raven haired, lithe, graceful with light skin and deep enticing brown eyes. Amelia is a diamond amidst the rocks of the wasteland. She's intelligent, more-so than she actually lets on. Charismatic and manipulative, she's adept at spinning lies and swindling. It's also not beneath her to pick a few locks, hack a few personal computers, remove a few people if needed.

Weapons and armour: A forest green military jacket with sergeant chevrons, the previous owner of it is unknown but it's definitely authentic. Dark blue jeans and black hiking boots. She carries a Honshu knife, an incredibly sharp blade. And a 9mm but firearms aren't her speciality.

Personality: If the wasteland has taught her anything, it's that only the strongest survive. And she doesn't see the strong part as being an attribute to physical strength. An opportunist, assertive, and forward yet despite her nature, she is sociable - friendly with a sarcy and mischievous attitude behind it but there is always a personal wall there with people. She may have betrayed a few people and clients in her time but at least she has the decency to keep face with them. They are, however, certain things she won't deal in, slavery and drugs are two examples.

Underlying this however is quite possibly a smidgen of a softer side, but since she never lets people get too close, it's likely people won't ever find out.

Occupation: Currently, an enforcer of sorts.

Faction: Moriarty

Backstory: Amelia isn't quite sure where she was born, her parents were roving traders moving from place to place, bland people whose only objective in life was to scraqe by and avoid trouble. Making her early life a dull and uneventful. The constant moving didn't allow her to make friends or interact with children as much she would of liked. At the age of 10, whilst trading in a settlement in New England, a shoot out between two rival factions nearby broke out. Amelia's parents fled the scene, unintentionally leaving their daughter behind amidst the chaos. Once the fighting cease, she emerged from her hiding spot unable to find her parents.

Naturally scared, yet she recognised the opportunity of the situation, and it didn't take long for the opportunity to find her. She was found by a company of Mercenaries led by Datoka, a woman. Having spent time in her mother's shadow, who practically adhered to famine stereotypes, Datoka was an oddity. Datoka was strong, both mentally and physically, intelligent, unreadable in dealings, and straight up deadly in every form. Amelia became the de facto mascot for the company, becoming close to Datoka who became her mentor, learning much of her skills after refusing the offer to relocate her parents.

As she grew into a young woman, Datoka, who filled the roll as her adoptive mother, employed her skills as spy and scout, something the Amelia was proficient at. But who would suspect a pretty young girl being behind the eyes and hears of a hired army, and many men were quiet capable of divulging secrets with the right words. But the life of a mercenary wasn't for her, as much as she loved Datoka, she decided to move on.

At 18 she reached the settlement of Megaton. Where she was immediately noticed by Moriarty. The first few months of her tenure at Megaton often featured Moriarty in her life. He attempted to groom her into another one of his girls, it would take Moriarty a good few months before he finally realise that he was in fact being used by the girl. To add insult to injury she had the information that could cost him his grip on the town. Yet, rather strangely, Moriarty went with a more diplomatic route. He gave her a job, a position of power and even allowed her to keep the caps she stole, since then she has worked as Moriarty's personal agent, but for a while now she has been with Tenpenny on the behalf of Moriarty during the last few months. However, she holds no love for Moriarty, but she knows she's in a valuable position and all she has to do is bide her time

Name: Gabriel

Age: 10

six: Male

Basic physical appearance and attributes: A innocent looking child, yet small and fragile, a head curly bright blonde hair and blue eyes. He lacks talents in most departments, if he was put in a fight he would be killed almost instantly. However, for a child of the wastes he's unusually brilliant with technology, electronics and robots.

Weapons and armour: No armour or weaponry. He wears a Roving trader hat often, or keeps it near to him. Despite the fact it's just a bit too big for his head. He also wears a dirty brown jacket which also is just a tad big for him but he's growing into it.

Personality: Lucas is a Savant with a Aspergers Syndrome. He doesn't tend the notice of pessimism of the world, only looking at the endless opportunities making him oddly optimistic. He's well-spoken, innocent and kind. Yet due to his Aspergers he's socially inept, not understanding social norms. Venerable to being taken advantage of by lesser folk, several things will also go over his head things when said in jest, or in a sarcastic manner, he will take them literally. Despite being friendly and talkative (very talkative especially when it's on a subject he's skilled in) he struggles with people on the whole despite how much he tries to understand them and the social aspect of life.

Occupation: Up-and-coming genius but in the meantime. Tinkerer

Faction: Grayditch
Backstory: "My dad wears really big suit of armour, like a knight. And my mum is really pretty and really smart. My dad told me to come here because some bad men started shooting at us, but I like it here because I might find a robot. I like robots."

Gabriel remembers very little of his parents, having been found by Virgil in a scrap yard, alone, seemingly abandoned. Gabriel didn't seem to care about the fact Virgil was a Super Mutant which touched a nerve after travelling for so long and facing so much prejudice. He guarded the child till the dawning of the sun where it soon became apparent that his parents wouldn't be returning. Since then Gabriel has travelled with Virgil, who became his projector and guardian.

The pair have regularly been the focus of raiders and slavers. Yet not one has yet gotten past Virgil as of yet. Gabriel got his wish at one point of having a robot, discovering a Mr. Handy by the side of the road. Disabled by some loose wirings. SE-3AS, or Sebastian as Gabriel christened became their third companion in a very strange trio of travellers. Eventually Sebastian's life came to a end as they came across a small detachment of Talon Company. A bullet destroyed Sebastian's main circuitry, making repairs difficult. Bringing this already old robots life to a unfortunate end.

Gabriel and Virgil simply move from place to place, no place to call home. Gabriel however recent obsession are the Eyebots of the Enclave, with his determination to acquire one as a replacement to Sebastian. However, so far he been unlucky but still hopes up hope he'll have his very own Eyebot in the future

Name: Virgil

Age: 175 years in mutant Years

six: Male; West Coast Super Mutant

Basic physical appearance and attributes: Naturally, as a Super Mutant, Virgil is physically strong and towers over humans and ghouls. His skin is green, scars run down his arms and a deep bullet wound runs across his left cheek. Virgil's expertise lies within close combat, while he's decent with a weapon, if he's within arm's length of someone, 99.9% They're dead.

Weapons and armour: No guns, just one super sledgehammer which he's carried around since his time within the Masters army, his armour is basically a random assortment of armoured junk. Some of it suggested by Gabriel, they have enough stopping power to keep out a bullet, break a knife. Also, he has a pauldron on his left shoulder with what appears to be some crude form of a seat, indicating that Virgil carries Gabriel around from time to time.

Personality: Virgil is a first generation Super Mutant, smarter than most first gens back home, smarter than the second generation mutants and definitely smarter than the East Coast Super Mutants, he's stoic and reserved, with a dry wit, but cultivated, which out here is a surprise. He's very protective of Gabriel, treating most with distrust, slavers have made them both a target for a while. A smart super mutant and a child genius obviously a high price, the question remains if the high death toll is worth it to the slavers.

Occupation: Guardian of Gabriel.

Faction: Grayditch

Backstory: Virgil remembers nothing of his life as a human, nor does he care to remember. His first experiences was the Masters Army. He was dubbed Virgil, he was told meant strong in a long dead language. He led and fought for the Master, ruthless in battle but merciful. He bared no hate towards humans but like the others, believed they needed to be up-lifted.

When the Vault Dweller destroyed the Cathedral, killing the Master. Virgil was left without a purpose, but felt touches of freedom, no longer wanting to fight, so he travelled. His destination was everywhere and nowhere yet eventually he came across Broken Hills. Where he helped build a community for humans, ghouls, and super mutants. For a while his wonder lust left and he settled in the community but before long his desire to explore returned.

Several years he explored. Moving from community to community, some friendly, some not so. He saw the worth and best that people had to offer but he never rested in one place. As time went on he found himself in the D.C. area, where he came across the East Coast super mutants who were more stupid than the second generations and more dangerous for it. He found dealing with them difficult, especially with the war with the Brotherhood of Steel, not wanting to be caught in crossfire he began making his way out of D.C. Of course, he stumbled across Gabriel.
The child was hunting for pieces of technology, anything robotic particularly. Virgil waited with Gabriel in case of danger reared its head. Alas, there was no sight of sound of his parents, or anyone Gabriel mentioned that was with them.

Gabriel has been at Virgil's ever constant side, giving the mutant meaning in his life again. This time, for something better. Virgil has speculated on the identity of Gabriel's parents, the mention of a suit of armour and Gabriel's keen interest in technology has led him to the theory that his parents were Brotherhood members, but hasn't acted upon the theory due to Gabriel not knowing his surname, the fact he's a super mutant and approaching a Brotherhood Paladin would not look like a friendly gesture, and that he might be wrong.

Virgil knows that eventually the pair will need to find a place to settle down, more for Gabriel's sake than his. Yet in the meantime, he'll keep looking for a Eyebot.

Name: Cole Anders

Age: 23

six: Male

Basic physical appearance and attributes: He is Caucasian with slicked back dark brown hair, approximately 6'2 with dark brown eyes and light skin. He has a slender build and his body is defined with very lean muscle. He also has a few burn marks due to a few "mishaps".

Here he is.

Weapons and armour: A black fedora with a Pre-War business suit and Sunglasses.

His weaponry consists of a Silenced 9mm pistol and a concealed Combat knife.

Personality:
Cole is very charismatic, convincing others of his point of view with relative ease. He's also the type of person that if he speaks, people instinctively listen. He also has an unusual calm about him, never easily letting himself be flustered by most things. He speaks with great articulation and tact whenever engaging anyone in conversation. He constantly anolyzes and sizes up anyone he speaks to, trying to divine intent and character from them.

He does, however, have a dark and sinister side that tends to reveal his true ambitions. He gets what he wants, one way or another, and is determined to get the job done, no matter the cost.

Cole also suffers from Pyromania, and is a classified Pyromaniac. He carries a lighter on his person at all times and also has a mild anxiety disorder that tends to get worse the longer he goes without some relief of tension.

Occupation: Ex-Private Eye

Faction: Currently Unaligned

Backstory:

Raised from Little Lamplight at the age of two, Cole has no memories preceding his life within the cavern. He learned basic skills such as reading, writing, and math, along with basic combat skills such as shooting and survival. He became quite favored among the children of Little Lamplight, taking office after the departure of MacCready with ease.

He ruled the cavern leisurely, allowing the children to do as they please like all the rulers preceding him. But he invested a great many resources to insure that when his time of departure arrived, he would not be thrown out into the wastes like a filthy animal. He issued a Caravan transport across the wasteland on his 16th birthday with a single destination in mind; Tenpenny Tower.

Upon arrival, he payed the hefty entrance fee with the large sum of caps he had collected over the years and was allowed entrance. He was set up with a small suite and lived within the safety of the Tower for the next several months. However, Cole longed for something more then sitting around all day and watching as snooty bigots went on with their lives. That is, until he met Mr. Burke.

Mr. Burke, impressed with his vast knowledge and skills, hired Cole as his personal Private-eye. He did the jobs Burke asked of him, investigated anything he required, and eliminated anyone that stood between him and his goals. It was a mutually beneficial relationship that went on reliably. It wasn't until one fateful day that Mr. Burke assigned Cole a assignment which led him to do the one thing that his employer never approved of; He showed mercy.

Still works in progress, but...

Name: Toby (Runt)

Age: 26 (01/05/2252)

six: Male

Basic physical appearance and attributes: Toby's greatest abilities are thanks to his significantly high intelligence, which would be mainly his repair. Although his ability to use and maintain a gun is decent. However, Toby failed to be born "healthy"-and his history probably doesn't help that factor, being a man with very little strength or endurance. Years of physical abuse have mauled him-having ugly scars on his back in particular, but having a number of other gashes that never fully healed. One slaps across a small part of his somewhat tall forehead. The man is absolutely not hideous-at the very least, not by the Wasteland's standard, but he never had an exceptionally pretty face either. Often, he looks a little sickly, making an otherwise tan skin color more ghastly and pale in tone than it should be. His general look is mousy and small-having a similarly sickly thin frame and arms, with a worried look set by his auburn brows against gray eyes, one that had an eyelid ever so faintly lower than the other. Even with relatively thin lips, his face looks as if it pouts, and he never seemed to completely grow into his large ears.

Weapons and armour: In his constant fears for his own life, the individual often wears the best armor he can manage to afford, steal, or find-and manage to wear; anything beyond a medium weight takes too much effort to lug around on his body. Wearing a mix of different objects, from a random elbow pad or a part of an older army outfit, combined with a helmet from before the army of the Great War largely became the force to attack with. Often, his clothing makes his basic body look bigger-yet, at the same time, looks bulky on him to where one can realize how particularly small he is if they look around the clothings' ends. More so than they might otherwise. As for a gun, he currently carries around a well maintained hunting rifle.

Personality: Toby's impression from his looks are typically that he's a harmless man that could be scared a way by touching his shoulder with one finger. His initial personality, through impression, isn't much different. Nearly as if he worries he'll be beaten by merely being in the presence of another. While he actually is active in his behavior, and often is making proposals or performing tasks to his own interests and benefits, he has (particularly originally) a timid, sometimes even paranoid and quiet, attitude. However, this doesn't mean that Toby's simply a victim of the world-the man has also grown the tendency to be obsessively spiteful and grudging. Whether or not he gets pay back, he'll mull over on how to-and how badly he wishes he had already-for hours, months, and in the worst case years. With a survivalist personality and nearly no dignity at all, he mainly seeks goals for his own profit-whether directly or indirectly. Having only a genuine interest in learning further details in engineering and, now, other forms of sciences(although far more loosely).

Where Toby can be angered is through severe damage to his pride and disregard-or calling him his unannounced nickname, one nobody has actually used toward him in years: "Runt."

Occupation: Repairman, Researcher(Mostly in Automobile Engineering, and Statistics)

Faction: Grayditch

Backstory: What might be considered a nickname was more than just that at birth-it was his entire title. Within the first day, possibly due to complications of pregnancy due to his mother's influence, he was plainly-as bluntly put-"a runt." Within the year, it was confirmed as the best fitting name for him-as he hardly survived, particularly so with little help from a number of the people he lived with.
The group he was involved in was an initially roving band, that had learned to make functioning motorcycles and salvage a largely undamaged highway that was Northwest of the Capital Wasteland. Using their own form of brutality and the great advantage of transportation that they obtained, they would either raid or "tax" any civilization or persons using the path. Making them a not hugely sized, but certainly puissant, affiliation.
Being unable to evade or handle illness well, perform anything very physical, and unable to manage a gun or weapon-the response to such inabilities, weakness, was a number of beatings and the object of everyone's mockery otherwise. It had been a number of times where he had nearly been crippled or suicidal in the process.
Eventually, a more adaptive nature picked up his current personality and a new determination and interest-with it, he gained massive knowledge and understanding in the subject of motorcycles. Later learning other subjects of engineering and statistics for a hobby. At the same time, he finally earned the ability to shoot a gun not only properly, but acceptably well. It failed to prevent subjection to abuse, but it did make his life more lenient-especially as others began to pay him for his services in repair.
It was only in the past five years that Toby actually left, picking the plainer and more harmless term to call him by from there on. He still pursues an ideal situation, where his skills would be utilized and "properly" appreciated.



Name: Tracy (Tootsie)

Age: 12 (4/30/2266)

six: Female

Basic physical appearance and attributes: Still being green to the true brunt of a violent life, and being young anyhow, Tracy has the gift of lacking any scars or any damage from severe hardships. She's gifted further with naturally good looks-having a healthy body that's just a bit underweight of what the standards would be in a normal society, and a slender face that slips into a soft, small chin tipping the end. At twelve years of age, she has not yet experienced any physical development-aside from her face, which has already begun to fit proportions slightly more appropriate of an advlt. Large, open hazel eyes with soft, chocolate brows and full, almost pouting lips often give her a curious look when she's without expression. A nose that's just a touch upturned and pudgy dapples her face, which is framed by curling short, well-combed, and richly brown hair. The one other notable fact is that her buck teeth are larger than average, though not in such a way that it would detract from her appearance.
Being a child, her ears are larger proportionally than an advlts, her face still has a chubbier look, and her smooth forehead remains rather tall. Though the last won't likely completely disappear from maturity.
Although she might have eventually learned the basics if she was still in the Republic of Dave, Tracy still has no knowledge in weaponry-aside from the most basic and obvious facts after a few observations. As for practice, the most stabbing and ripping she's done with her one "weapon" has been for dealing with wrappers and meals.

The only real advantages she has is her relatively high intelligence, and far more impressively high charisma-which has allowed her, in occasion, to be resourceful and clever. More often, however, it's what allows her to beg for aid and food from others. Her speed hasn't been of much use, although it's significantly decent, aside from scouting. It could possibly allow her, especially with her small size, to escape a number of enemies-but not one that's speedy themselves.

Weapons and armour: Often what's available for defense is too large for the girl, and the most she has ever worn is a light helmet and a vault security bullet vest that she had found previously. As of now she owns a child's yellow, pre-war dress and a light, loose sweater. Somewhat worn and tattered from use. She also wears hiking boots-one, with it's remaining string pulling it's arc as far down as it can; the other loosely and awkwardly on her foot.

Personality: Perhaps adopting some traits from her mother's, Jessica, personality, Tracy began rather ambitious; selfishly so. Based on the way her father doted on her- calling her "Tootsie," and once or twice "Toots"-Tracy learned a little manipulation went a long way. Once being equally loving of her mother and father, a new competition arose between herself and her then incessantly jealous mother for her father's attention-which made Tracy both greedy for his praise and for the things she could get from his adoration. He eventually became the only one Tracy has ever been loyal to-and, if one were to ever call her the nickname attributed to her by Dave, Tracy would almost unfailingly soften or grow more perky due to the connection of the memories.
Typically, the attitude that's revealed to the public is an excited, childish, even innocent one-and emotional. It's easy for her to become desperate or hurt and crumble into tears, having somewhat of an excuse-being a child in a post-apocalyptic age. In a place that has remained in its own sort of Dark Age. She's quick to be very expressive of her appreciation to any aid and to give praise of others, as well.
It, of course, turns out to be a form of manipulation-partially in necessity, partially in the fun of "acting." She remains a very self-serving being, knowing no one any longer that she feels she ought to care too deeply for or be all that loyal to. However, she does still have a youthful energy and ignorance to her own extent; especially after being so long isolated in the Republic of Dave. And, although she has no intention of going out of her way to aid others, she is a genuinely social being. Perhaps most notable is that she has more insecurities than what her alter ego could ever have. Mixing between her past relationships and experiences, and the simple fact that she's essentially a lone, little girl in the big bad wasteland.

Occupation: Has often acted as something close to, if anything, a "Diplomat" or "Spy" of sorts.

Faction: Grayditch

Backstory: Being among the eldest of Jessica's children, Tracy was born into the Republic of Dave-and, like most of it's residents, had no thoughts of the world as negative nor any intention to leave its borders of short length for the outside world. Almost up until what could be most closely called a banishment or, by her words, a betrayal, she was almost among the best behaved.
However, after finding a new, fiery desire for her father's newfound fawning, Tracy went out of her way to coax out further attention from Dave. It wasn't long before Jessica took notice and, consciously or not, began to feel competitive toward her own daughter-adding yet another trouble to the already dysfunctional family. When it began to appear to her, in the daughter-mother rivalry, that she was losing the fight, Jessica deciding to take the effort to remove the opponent. While the group was asleep, the Second Wife used the opportunity to "escort" her daughter as long of a distance as possible before the sun began to show.
Most likely, in her abilities-or lack thereof, Tracy would have died rather quickly. If not for the fact that a scavenging group discovered her and, both sympathetic to her situation and charmed by her nature, adopted her. After that, she traveled with the group-experiencing a portion of the D.C. ruins and even encountering one of the less fatal vaults-which gave her the security vest that she once or twice wore and her dress that she still owns.
Being a nomadic group, they are currently visiting Grayditch-coincidentally the place that is supposed to be a new location for trade.

Name: AUBREY TATE Clark

Age: 15 YEARS, 6 MONTHS, 5 DAYS, 12 HOURS, 5 MINUTES, 47 SECONDS (8150405.47 MINUTES)
(06/12/2262 at 23:54:13)
Disclaimer: All numbers involving how many days there are in a year and how many days there are in a month are approximated to the average or most common number, numbers will be rounded if required.

six: F

Basic physical appearance and attributes:
HEIGHT: 5' 8"
WEIGHT: 140 lb.
BLOOD TYPE: AB
HAIR COLOR: Brown
EYE COLOR: Green

A teenager with dark brown hair with almost strikingly brighter, russet highlights cut into a bob with short bangs that curls a bit, she has a deep brown tan and green eyes tinted by blue. They are very slightly slanted and suggest she might have ancestry from Asia. She has beauty in that her body has no damage from any aspect of the Wasteland-not illness, not radiation, not starvation, not dehydration, not combat...the list goes on. However, while she might be striking in some features, her actual facial structure is rather plain-a face that's somewhat too long, eyebrows that are too thick and have never been bother too be plucked, with a less perfect curve than what a Playboy magazine would showcase, her nose does not jut out quite like Pinocchio's , but it does shoot straight down like a Greek
statue's man and defies that simple, smooth curve that seems to be desired of woman.

Her body is a stick, a very tall, well trained stick-even if her body does have curves like any healthy woman does, they're only there because she has no belly to speak of. With an unimpressive chest and near non-existent rear that would catch the eyes of no one, she compensates the fact by training to be a skilled fighter in both close and long ranged battle. Aubrey has never been a romance or extremely feminine kind of girl, anyhow. Why kiss a boy when you can beat all the biological pulp out of him, and get his cash?

Aside from her abilities in combat, she has a naturally amazing perception-her senses in general are rather good, and her eyes are even better. As absolutely, horrifyingly terrible she is in anything involving charisma, she can certainly notice every little tick someone makes when they're holding back on emotions or thoughts.

Yet while her impressive athletic abilities can sometimes ease the problems her people skill's cause, and as fit as she is, Clark has a very crippling lack of knowledge and natural adaptation to the Wasteland. Disease has not been in Vault 73 for years, if not decades, and what little there has ever been could be treated. Any problem she has had the luck of not enduring, as a Vault resident, will be several times worse than it would be for any Wastelander her age. Clark has not even killed a living thing-her training was, even as good as it was, on and with inanimate objects.

While it is more of a perk than a skill, the Vault has gifted her with a decent, broad education in American history, writing, reading, literature, science, and other things-subjects aside from combats, basic repair, and guns. She was even taught art, and has become relatively skilled at sketching.

Weapons and armour: A Pistol, A Semi-Automatic Rifle, and a Fixed Blade Dagger. Wearing vault security armor, her group sent her out well-prepared with stock specifically from the top authority.

Personality:
CRIMINAL HISTORY:
The Owner Has Committed the Following Offenses:
-Three Assault Charges
-One Case of Sabotage

Aubrey Clark can be a kind individual, and typically means well-thinking that what she does is the correct course of action to take. However, Clark is rather stubborn, and often nearly impossible to rationalize with once she has committed herself to something, and tends to let her emotions make the decisions. A mind that is far too proud and too honest, and lacking the charm to even use smooth words that might otherwise ease the blow. The only thing she isn't willing to speak up about is certain parts of her vault history.

Which, adding onto that, she's also too proud of. Aubrey has grown to see the few, surviving stragglers as unfortunate, but still lesser savages, and looks to other vaults that couldn't survive their experiments as also inferior. With this belief in superiority, arrogance, and pride, she fails to see or admit her mistakes and downfalls.

The few that have ever liked Aubrey find adoration in the best of her-a curious, honest girl who actually intends to make something of herself, and genuinely wishes the best for others and will lend a hand out to those in a tough spot.

It's hard to see any of that past the glaring, blatant flaws, however.

Occupation: Student Scout and Explorer!

Faction: Vault 73

Backstory:
MOTHER: Sandra Tate FATHER: Richie Baye
SIBLINGS: Craig Tate
FAMILY BLOODLINE: The Tate Family
VAULT: 73
LOCATION: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
DURATION in VAULT: 06/12/2262-03/06/2278

"I have been sent to explore the vast lands surrounding my home, to find any possibly useful or important facts about it, understand and write down the lands and any remaining, living things within it, take samples of these things, and return with this information and items obtained."

The longest explanation Clark has ever given to another, she more often simply puts, "I have been sent on an expedition for my home." Purposefully, the armor and clothing she wears was stripped of any symbols saying "73," in case there were threats that could actually use that information.

This expedition has lasted for roughly a week, with a healthy Clark quickly reaching the D.C. area and taking notes of the lands she passed in one of the many journals she currently posses. She has only encountered towns and the like very recently, and only been within the Capital Wasteland for a day. To the people she's finally met and asked questions or taken pictures of with an old camera, she's also bragged about her home life. How successful she was, how brilliant everyone was, how there was always clean water and good food, and so on.

The one thing she hasn't done is give more than the basic details, always being quick to proudly detail the fact that she is the first of both her generation and her vault to explore these lands, and that they sent her out specifically because of her outstanding credentials. So anything more about her vault or her history is completely vague-as not even the latest model of the pip-boy that she owns accounts for anything.

The surname and nickname she goes cheerfully by is "Clark." As she finds her situation much like that of Louis and Clark when they explored the west.

Name: Russell Mast

Age: 31

six: Male

Basic physical appearance and attributes: average Build, about 5’ 6, short black hair (No. 2 haircut), Piercing Black eyes, Caucasian, heavy scarring on right forearm and missing his right index finger.

Weapons and armour: Leather Armour, 9mm pistol, sawn off shotgun and 10mm SMG

Personality: Russell is generally easy going but is a bit of quiet one, he generally hates crowds and would much rather be tinkering with old radio sets he has found and getting them working than partying or drinking up a storm.

Occupation: Linesman (gets communication systems up and running)

Faction: Grayditch

Backstory: Russell enlisted in the BOS when he was 18 and served with them for 13 years (which is a rare thing in the capital wasteland). He had high proficiency with small arms so the brotherhood didn’t see much need to train him on energy weapons, although he did a basic course, he can’t properly maintain them in the field. A year after he earning his Knighthood the more senior Paladins started to take note of his shooting abilities and before long sent him to the BSS (Brotherhood sniper squad)

He spent 4 years at the squad carrying out many missions in aid of the brotherhood including one where the Lyon’s Pride Where under heavy fire from a super mutant Machine Gun Nest and couldn’t move. Mast was deep in enemy territory but his instincts to save his fellow team members kicked in and he exposed himself to lay down covering fire for the Pride which gave them enough time to throw a grenade and clear the Gun pit. For his actions he was awarded a bravery star.

After his stint in BSS the Elders saw fit to promote him to Knight Corporal and gave him his own brick (four man team) he proved himself on many missions and four years later was promoted to Knight Sergeant meaning he had his own Platoon.

It was with his platoon where the accident happened. His Platoon had been posted to the Washington Monument to provide security. During a heavy mutant raid, where mast was leading from the front, he knocked down and captured by the mutants. They dragged him off to one of their bunker systems preparing him for transport to “aye seden” as they called it. But while the mutants waited they decided to have some fun with him by slicing his arm up with a rusty trench knife then hacking off his finger. The pain became unbearable and Mast collapsed hence why he doesn’t know the full story of his rescue, he only knows that one of the bricks found him just before he was ready to be taken away.

But Mast wasn’t out of it yet, the knife had caused a deadly infection which he fought for two weeks before he finally beat it. The doctors told him however that he would never recover his muscled build or have full motor skills with his right arm again. Mast was devastated and something inside of him went out
He was promoted to Knight Captain for his service but wasn’t put in charge of anyone due to his new reserved nature. Until a Paladin approached him with a message from Scribe Rothchild and that was to meet him in the mess hall.
The gist of the meeting was that a large stash of old communications equipment had been found and about 67% of it was in working order. The scribes and Elders were thrilled with the discovery and had begun work on creating a unit called the Brotherhood Signals Troop (BST) and that Mast would be the 2IC under Paladin Grouth.

For four years Mast stayed with BST learning all skills that were needed to maintain communications with the Citadel while soldiers were in the field, many times his troops radio networks were what had been the turning point in a battle by allowing their forces to call for reinforcements.

But Mast had had enough of the brotherhood and felt his new found talent could be used for the communities of the wasteland and while running some line one day he saw an old tattered flyer with the only couple of words legible they were Grayditch and opportunities. When he returned to the citadel he quickly handed in a resignation and was honourably discharged for his service to the brotherhood.

Name: Fallyn Angel (Birth name: Aelphaba Angelise)

Age: 23

six: Female

Basic physical appearance and attributes: Fallyn has an even tan all over her body, and along with that, every thing about her is perfectly symmetrical. She has waist length, even midnight black hair and frozen blue eyes. Also, of note, is that she has four sharp "fangs", but she does her best to hide them. She wears a kind of baby blue uniform that looks self-designed, with a pair of symmetrical feathery black wings sewn on the back behind a snowy, white wolf "Angel&Wolfe Co." written under them and on the front, there is a name tag sewn in with Aelphaba on it, but the name is scratched out.

Though she is skilled in range combat, you get up close, she's likely to lose that fight. She also keeps herself perfectly groomed, and if something goes awry, she gets extremely grouchy.

Weapons and armour: She has a Barret M107A1 that is her weapon of choice. It's custom-made, with a message inscribed: "To my best friend, Aelphaba Angelise. We cannot change our destiny. We just have to have the courage to know what it is, and accept it. Love, David Wolfe." The Barret is gold-plated, and specifically made to be symmetrical. As for armor, when she feels endangered, she puts on a set of Power Armor that was painted a baby blue, the same "Angel&Wolfe Co." symbol painted on it.

Personality: Fallyn is stand-offish. She inadvertantly acts like a snob, and is commonly asked if she grew up in one of those "Posh" places. Otherwise, she tries her hardest to do right by people, especially she has accidentally insulted them. She also has an issue with asymmetry and dirt. When she can't do anything about it (aka the ENTIRE Wasteland), she deals with it but if it's something she can fix, she'll do it.

Occupation: She was a teacher, and then she was a bodyguard, now she's trying something new; General Store operator!

Faction: Moriarty (Secretly Grayditch)

Backstory: Aelphaba Angelise was born in the Commonwealth. In this, she had a wealthy family; a powerhungry mother who grew up there, and a spiritual father from Megaton. Then there was Alephaba, who was somewhere in the middle, a "Gift from Atom" in her father's own words. She was sheltered, protected fiercely by her father who was afraid she'd attract the wrong kind of attention from the other men.

This was his fatal error. A curious scientist, David Wolfe, came to see the child that hid herself from the sun. Instead of a child, he saw a matured "Fallen Angel", who laughed at his questions, and told him her real name. Aelphaba's curiosity about the world outside was roused when Wolfe told her about the Wasteland outside.

"The only thing that made me cringe was the idea of dirt covering the ground." She said of it later.

Aelphaba learned that Wolfe was actually a synth, much, much later when they had arrived at Rivet City, after they had been hunted like dogs, after they had made their company, and Aelphaba ditched her birth name and became Fallyn. She learned this fact while walking into Rivet City, and before she could become angry, she was presented with a Barret M107A1. With a message inscribed on it. She felt tears come to her eyes as he told her to go find her family in Megaton.

Fallyn hugged him and then they separated. She accepted a job from a merchant to escort him to Megaton. She made it there in one piece and ended up staying at Moriarty's for awhile, ignoring him trying to talk her into being one of his "girls". However, to put salt in her wounds, she accidentally let it slip to Ameila who and what Wolfe really was, not knowing who she worked for. To this day, Fallyn never really tried to figure out who, exactly, gave him the information and she's not keen to find out.

Name: Amber Pence and Yao Niang.

Age: 20 and Fifteen

six: Female

Basic physical appearance and attributes: Amber is a normal height, with a
slight tan tint to her skin from hours of walking in the sun. Amber has
long, curly dark blonde hair and cerulean eyes. She has a slight figure, but
she enjoys not looking more like a woman. She is slender and lithe, probably
from her years on the run. Amber wears a black tank top with “HERO” written
in red across the chest and black khaki pants with “pirate” boots. She also
has a bomber jacket that has the old American flag on the back of it. And
she wears thick-framed glasses that are a dark green color.

Yao Niang wears a seemingly brand new red silk mandarin jacket and
spotlessly clean black pants. She seems to always be clean and in order,
unlike Amber who always looks messy and unkempt. She has long, straight dark
brown, almost black hair, and her eyes are a light brown. It is obvious that
Yao Niang has Asian ancestry. She has smooth, soft, pale skin that Amber,
when feeling playful, rubs and teases her. Yao Niang is rather small, though
she’s up to Amber’s shoulder, and she takes pride in the fact that she’s
got, however small, a “woman’s body”.

Weapons and armor: Lecherous Brother took them all away, but she had a
rifle.

Personality: Amber and Yao Niang are complete opposites; Amber is the darker
one of the two, more blunt, though she herself cannot take back what she
dishes out. Though she is older, she is quite timid and stubborn, and with
her dark outlook, she’s fairly sensitive. If someone is mean to her, she’ll
cry and pout, looking completely helpless, though she always seems to favor
the pain. It is hard, but if one tries hard enough, they can earn a place in
her shattered heart.

However, when Amber is around Ivan, she becomes flustered, bossy, and
clumsy, often chastising him for being so mean to others, though she,
herself can be just as mean. This makes Amber somewhat of a hypocrite.

Yao Niang on the other hand is the bright side. She is also often the one
who defends Amber against her tormentors. Yao Niang is free-spirited, but
formal and well-spoken when she is around those who deserve her respect.
Yet, like Amber, Yao Niang is careful of whom she allows into her heart. She
is creeped out by people like Ivan and Harold; tall, big-built people,
mostly because she is so small, and there is only so much a small girl can
do against a tall man. This means, she’s afraid of Super Mutants too.

When Yao Niang is around Amber and Ivan, she’s always wearing a gentle
smile, as if she’s glad that her adoptive mother and the, however crazy, man
found each other.

Occupation: Slaves.

Faction: Greyditch.

Back-story: Amber was born in a small settlement that was wiped out and a
wandering group of men heard her crying for her mother to wake up. The
leader felt bad for her and took her under his wing, though the leader’s
brother was a slight pervert and wanted her for other reasons. The leader
kept this little girl by him and watched as she grew from a happy, curious
little girl, into a passive-aggressive, quiet young woman.

Amber, before she became passive-aggressive, was constantly pursued by the
lecherous brother and one day, he manage her corner her alone and took what
he wanted. She never told anyone, including her father/brother-figure, and
kept it locked up. Before long, she couldn’t stand being around the brother,
and she decided she wanted to leave. The leader thought she was still too
young (being only fifteen) to leave but she kept fighting to leave.
Eventually, she found a rifle and one day she confronted the leader with it,
pushing it into his chest.

The leader dropped his gun unable to shoot her and the great leader crumpled
into tears. She stared at him, feeling bad but she spotted the brother
staring at her with a grin and she turned on him, shooting him in the
shoulder, purposely missing his heart. She looked down at the leader and
whispered something only he could hear. She then proceeded to walk away.
Then Amber stumbled upon Yao Niang, an eleven year old girl who was standing
amongst the ruins of an old American city, much in the same fashion that her
“Big Brother” stumbled upon her.

Yao Niang had no memory of who she had been before, or how she knew her
name. Amber didn’t care, she just saw a young girl that needed caring for.
So she took the bright, happy Asian under her wing and protected and raised
her.

Then, when Amber turned 19, they met Ivan Belikov. Amber and Ivan hit it
off, though Yao Niang was intimidated by the big man, and all three became a
close band of friends, after years of each one of them shunning others.
Amber began to develop feelings for Ivan, but Amber’s big brother’s group,
now under the lecher’s control, kidnapped Amber and Yao Niang one night
while Ivan was hunting for their dinner.

Name: Nathan " Nat" Wilkinson

Age: 25

six: Male

Appearance/ Attributes: Nat is a tall, strong, and muscled man. He stands at 180 pounds and 6'4 with an athletic build with toned legs etc. He has hair fashioned in the Pompadour style that is black as blackest night. His eyes are light blue and he has a rough five o' clock shadow that's as dark as the hair on his head. He has a strong face well-built with fine features, he would most likely be considered attractive to most wasteland females. His arms are thick and pure muscle with a tattoo of barbed wire wrapped around his right bicep. His chest is thick with a portion of it is covered by a scar in the form of a cutting line through his heart.

Nat's Attributes include: Big Guns, Small Guns, and Speech.

Weapons, Armor, and Equipment: An R91 Assault Rifle, A minigun ( hopefully bought during his time in Grayditch ), A 10mm pistol, and a scoped .44 magnum. His armor: Combat armor with a few plates missing where plates are missing new metal plates are present. A backpack with stims, chems, some other miscellaneous items, plus ammo.

Personality: Nat is a suave but somewhat gruff man. He loves to chase after skirts ( most likely his greatest weakness, he'll do anything for an attractive woman. ) and have a good time. He likes to be in big groups of people though he sometimes tries to attract too much attention. If someone offends him he'll let them know which usually results in him picking a fight and he doesn't take crap from anyone. A weakness of his is that he is somewhat paranoid in the way that if he sees someone talking and pointing he'll assume that person is talking about him. He can also be very jumpy, the smallest sound to him could be an assassin's footstep on his roof coming to kill him. Finally Nat enjoys killing a bit too much but is also compassionate.

Occupation: Armed Guard/ Bouncer or an Assassin( if need be or job requires it).

Faction: Moriarty, the crooked way nets more money, more money to buy bigger and better guns.

Backstory: Nat was born in Rivet City to a loving and wealthy family who held influence over the council. His father was a successful merchant and his mother a smooth talking marksman working as guard captain. Nat's family got into Rivet City through his father's renown when Nat was 12. His father's success and charisma also helped him bribe his way into power on the council, while helping appoint his wife ( Nat's mother ) guard captain. The people of Rivet City liked the new Wilkinson family and never suspected much. After a few years though Bannon grew tired of how successful and influential the family became so he hired some "people".

Nat's father had to make a trip to Megaton to offer trade from his company to the town with cheap prices. Nat's mother accompanied his father on the trip for security among other guards, Nat ( age 17 ) was also along for the ill-fated journey. Bannon's "people" stalked the posse and then made their attack on the bridge near the Anchorage Memorial. The assassins came lightning fast and the guards were overpowered, outgunned, and out-manned. The small group was decimated with Nat's mother being the last to die. She managed to kill 3 of the assailants in the commotion but a lucky shot to the neck ended her life. The assassins kept Nat's father alive however, then had to deal with the crown jewel of his empire: his son, two of the captors held Nat's father back.

Nat's father begged and pleaded the attackers not harm his boy, they paid no heed. A man with an eye patch and tattoos on his face and lead pipe walked over to Nat. Nat, with tears in his eyes rushed the man, the man swung the lead pipe which connected with Nat's nose and shattered it. Nat fell to the dirt with blood dripping from his broken nose and got back up only to be knocked to the ground. The man laughed and closed the gap between him and Nat's prone body with a single stride then proceeded to mercilessly beat Nat. His cracked the pipe off of Nat's head and stomped on Nat's legs and torso. The beating lasted for what seemed to be forever, the attackers finally left Nat for dead, thinking there was no way that Nat would ever survive. They dragged away Nat's father the whole while with Nat's father hollering and kicking.

Hours later a man spotted Nat and picked him up and carried him back to his house. The man hired a doctor to travel to his home to treat Nat. It took two days for Nat to come to, after he did the man revealed his name was Dukov. After Dukov introduced himself he checked up every once in awhile in the meantime he had his party girls bring Nat his meals. Nat loved having the girls wait on him and always ogled them, It was the birth of a player. Weeks later Nat had healed well enough to walk around. Over the course of a year Dukov taught him to be an excellent marksman and trained him in the ways of a party boy. On his 18th birthday Dukov gave Nat the choice of Cherry or Fantasia for the night. Dukov said is was his right of passage as a man. Nat chose Cherry and he became a man that night.

He eventually left Dukov and went to work as a caravan guard for Uncle Roe in Canterbury Commons and traveled the wastes. Now he's retired from Roe's business, and turned his sights on Grayditch and wants a piece of the action.

Name: Shane O'Conner

Age: 18

six: Male

Basic physical appearance and attributes: Shane is medium height, around 5.6ft. He has a stocky build due to his rigorous training in between runs. Him being a runner consisted of him bringing notes and small packages from Megaton to other locations, this overtime made him quite stealthy as he had to avoid raiders and wildlife a lot on night time runs, this time alone however has made him quite timid when in larger crowds, he feels too exposed and will often be in the darkest corner with the best view. He is fast thinking and his reaction time is superb but he prefers to snipe whenever he gets the chance.

Weapons and armour:
Primary: Scoped Hunting Rifle
Secondary: Trench Knife
Sidearm: Beretta 92FS
Clothes: Dirty grey hoody, with black combat pants and dirty tan military boots.

Personality: Quiet, rarely speaks unless spoken too or if he needs information. Although he will do what he can to help those in need he will also do things that go against his moral code if he needs to survive. His personality clashes, he often has trouble separating right from wrong, the line is often blurred to him. His main weakness as he often acts on emotional feelings instead of logical ones, example: Killing a gang leader because he just killed someone he cared about even though he is surrounded by that guy’s gang.

Occupation: Runner, Hunter and Mercenary.

Faction: Moriarty.

Back-story: Shane grew up in Megaton as a Pickpocket, when he was 15 he tried to brush and tuck a Mercenary looking man, not knowing he was the new head of security. He failed and as punishment was sent out into the wastes to collect the 100 cap fine pittance. He returned a week later with 400 caps, when asked how he got them he only said: raiders. He had found a raider camp to the north and had scouted it for three days, when he knew every patrol, every member’s flaw he pounced. Most of the raiders had gone out to ambush a caravan, I creped into the camp via the back entrance and sneaked into the makeshift barracks, quietly slicing the remaining raider’s jugulars and silencing their gurgles with my handkerchief; he took an assault rifle from under one of the beds and waited at the camps only narrow entrance. When the four raiders returned drunk and happy with their looting he unloaded 30 rounds into them as they were approaching the camp entrance, walking up to them he grabbed a Beretta out of one of the near dead raiders hand. He proceeded to put another bullet into each of their heads. He picked up the sack they were carrying and looked inside... There were at least 400 caps in there and a good few bottles of water... He returned to Megaton and two weeks later was given a job as a runner.

Name: Mordecai

Age: 24

six: Male

Basic physical appearance and attributes: (this should include at least one major weakness) Tanned, agile, but not very hardy. Very good aim. Has the same sort of accent as Dukov. >This<

Weapons and armour:
Weapons; Primary – Sniper Rifle, Secondary – Machete, Sidearm - Unscoped .44 Magnum.
Armor; Black leather armor (body), and black leather mask with a clear spot for his chin and mouth.

Personality: Cocky, Sarcastic, Narcissistic.

Occupation: Caravan guard/Merc

Faction: Greyditch

Backstory: Mordecai was born to one of Dukov’s “party girls”. Dukov brought him up well enough, but as soon as Mordecai showed an apt for marksmanship, Dukov sent him away to act as a Mercenary, defending caravans.

Mordecai was happy enough, he had plenty of field-work with his sniper and machete, as well as pretty good pay. He had deadly accuracy with his Revolver and Sniper, he had never lost a duel in his life, rendering him quite cocky and vain. With the good pay, Mordecai was quite happy to follow his father’s example and hire nightly company, but he did not wish to end up, like his father, with a son. So he rarely stayed in the same spot after a ‘friendly’ night.

Mordecai was with his caravan, a regular trading trip, it would seem. It appeared that Megaton was having a little trouble getting supplies through, but Mordecai dismissed it as raiders. Nonetheless, Mordecai’s caravan was reluctant to walk in to a trap that had claimed so many lives. But Mordecai, in his narcissism, could not possibly believe that anything would get past his eagle eye. So when he was sent to investigate a dead, lone fire ant the caravan spotted on a hill, it seemed simple enough, until Mordecai saw the sign next to it, reading; “Got you. How’s your caravan now, eh?” Gunshots erupted from behind him, and Mordecai could only watch as his caravan was destroyed before him. Then, Mordecai swore a vow to get back at the perpetrator of this black trade, and perhaps have a little ‘fun’ along the way.

Name: Lt: Alisa Arche

Age: 29

six: Female

Basic physical appearance and attributes: The picture gives a clue in. Ignore those clothes. What I look like is on here
Weapons and Armour: What all officers have plasma Officer clothing

Personality: Smart, Tactical never messes around. There is one issue with this. She’s Enclave.

Occupation: Not sure. Thinking but I WONT REMAIN ENCLAVE. I have a fun little idea for the Rp. Nothing to do with you. I just get kicked from the Enclave and join the settlement thats IT

Faction: Greyditch –

Back story: Operation Frostbite 2278

Alisa officer of the enclave

What we where doing was wrong all of it. Testing on these things and making them worse. All so we could drop them into the citadel then what? The death claws where evil they lusted for blood they where bigger then everything in the wastes with one lust… To feed.

It was a dark night when we heard screams down the end of the metro I could here my men under my command yelling for help. I gave the order to stay at the command post. If it was the BOS they will not have our Data. Soon then the lights went off at that moment I ordered to get them on I was sure the BOS cut the power. No one else would do that now we wait.

Bang, bang soon enough the lights came back on lighting the tunnels up and there they where right the middle of the tracks… The Brotherhood Of Steel! My men where ready to start firing but then a car came up to them I used my binoculars too see inside. The leader of the Bos approached the cart then I noticed he jerk back but why? I looked inside the cart there I saw blood and cuts all over the place my men dead…

The Bos would do no such thing! Wait a second! Anderson did the death claw shock cages deactivate when the power went out? Then I heard roars like nothing I have ever heard and in the darkness they approached giant mutilated beasts no longer a creature. What have we done? The Bos started shooting them but it was no hope we had to activate our last hope. “Turn them on!” The subways roared to life there headlights shining at the BOS now running.

The Subways roared up to speed the BOS where horrified at what we done… What I done… Quickly my men and I left the escape door and shut it behind us. All I heard was a loud explosion and the ground shook. We made our way back to the bunker but we came across a wounded BOS. How did he survive that? We carried him back to the bunker for questioning and maybe some help?

It was weeks and he still shown no sign of recovery then the alarm went off the BOS was attacking. My men and me ran out ready to defend it was Lyons Pride. We blasted and fired but my men where rookies even with the better tech I ordered to Retreat. I watched from a distance the Sarah the leader talk to my BOS captive. She then slammed her gun into him and knocked him out cold.

On a cliff we made base camp I watched a scavenger wake the BOS member he knocked him out. The man then left for new orders. I heard rumours the man returned with a Brahman I wonder why? We where few no longer could be stand the project failed what now? Should i follow.

Name: John Willshank (Riddik)

Age: 46

six: Male

Basic physical appearance and attributes: This but without the beard thing and better looking. John Is A Very Muscled Man. He has a large scar the runs down through his left eye caused by a Death Claw. The scar caused him to loose colour and remains white. John suffered sever burn and in the cause he lost his hair going bald. John Rather’s thinking in his head rather then to talk. Due to his burns talking seems to cause him agonizing pain and would rather let his face talk. Due to this he does not get along well with others.

Weapons and Armour: A picture of what he wears. John wears his Merc Cruiser Outfit at all times having nothing else to buy since he bought the Brahman. But in secret a large case his Brahman carries has very old Brotherhood Armour burnt and scared from his past. It now disassembled in peaces waiting to be melted down. His old hurt up armour that has seen too many days

Weapons: John has no caps to spare and has nothing but his fists and a Trench knife.

Personality: John is a cold dark man he keeps to himself as much as he can. Due to his past and burns talking cases his agony in his body. His voice is hardly heard by others and when it is it sweeps death and darkness into the earth. John is not a man who can makes friends easily and never wishes to.

Occupation:

Faction: Greyditch – against hijacking and prefer to establish a more legit economy)

Back story: 2278: John WillShank was born into the Brotherhood and never hesitated to listen to orders. On that year 2278 John WillShank and his team was assigned to eliminate an Enclave Metro Facility. This facility was completely oblivious to the Brotherhood until massive jolt signatures where picked up.

One day the Brotherhood received a distress message. “Please Help… I am Lt. Verdikson its killing us..” An Enclave Officer was asking the Brotherhood for help. It was time to see what the jolt signatures where down there. John and his team were assigned to go down there on a dark night. The Entrance was a maintenance door into a mountain the door led into a large dark metro directing for what seemed miles down each end.

John and his team slowly made there way to a dim light at the end of the metro. It was now there luck changed. There was a loud noise behind them then the screech of brakes. Bang, Bang. The lights in the metro turned on lighting the place up. John approached a Subway car too his horror there was mangled Enclave guts everywhere inside the car. At one side there was the Officer who contacted him against the wall. “They’re coming.” He mumbled.

A large snarl was heard down the tunnel. At the far end the bodies of massive Mutated Death Claws appeared and started running towards them. John and his men fired but there bullets did nothing. They turned and ran down the tunnel then they heard voices. “Is it ready? Power it up!” Light turned on at the end of the subway but to john’s horror they where Subway Cars the Enclave was firing down to kill the creatures.

They where getting faster a speed subways never should obtain until it derailed. Sparks lit everywhere and the subway turned and started rolling toward John and his team. To the side John saw a Door. He ran for it ignoring his team. He ran in the room and slammed the door shut in horror he heard his men hitting the door “Let us in!” BANG the door flew open flames engulfed the room Johns suite was bubbling him. He was frying himself in the heated Armour. When the flames died down john crawled through the wreckage and burnt bodies of him men through the door. His skin was at 3rd degree burn he could hardly breath.

John lay there until an Enclave team approached he accepted death, but it did not come. John awoke weeks later in a abandoned bunker due to gun-fire. John ran out and grabbed a laser rifle laying on the floor. Outside he could see lasers and plasma going everywhere. When he left the bunker he could see Enclave being gunned down by Lyons Pride. When they saw him they didn’t hesitate to shoot a round in his leg. He was in pain when Sarah approached. “Speak!” John could hardly talk his burns where still bad nothing but a mumble came out. “Pathetic Enclave!” Sarah…The brotherhood had betrayed them yet they where friends for so long he felt the end of a gun slam his face.

When John awoke there was a scavenger picking at him. John didn’t hesitate to punch him. John then took the scavengers Merc Armour an odd knife and caps then he headed off to megaton where he bought a Brahman and headed back to the bunker. The bodies where gone no doubt scavenged or taken. He went into the bunker and to his surprise in a room laid Ed his burnt wrecked brotherhood Armour. He gathered it and packed it. Then john found a note saying. “Lt. Williams under the command of Eden your orders are to gather what forces you have and man the defences of our new Settlement. Order x553.

Tap - runs the diner

Traders/Caravans - buy, sell, trade as you wish. Keep the prices fair please. The mods will announce when they arrive, and what type of goods they will have.

The Elusive Rose 'employee's' - names and looks up to you, prices should be reasonable.

Jade - she will work for Calypso. Jade will be the ONLY one of Calypso's girls to roam town.

Random travelers/customers - people passing by who seek food and drink, may need directions, and repairs or supplies.

NONallowable are the slaves. These are reserved for the slavers