Name: Richard Grey

Age: 25

Race/Gender: Male, African-American

Faction/Side: N/A (for now)

Appearance: 6'1" with an athletic build, short black hair, and brown eyes

Primary Skills(6): Intelligence, Melee, Small Guns, Lockpick, Agility, Repair

Weapons: Combat Knife, M1 Garand w/bayonet, Colt .45, and a Combat Shotgun

Armor/Clothing: Grey sheathood, blue cap, brown boots, faded blue jeans, and a brown backpack

Medical Items: 10x Stimpacks, x3 Med-X

Misc Items/Food & Drink: 100 caps, 3x Purified Water, maps, a gate opener, flashlight, 3x Ant Meat, 1x Rat Meat

Personality: Honest and inquisitive, with the occasional sarcastic streak. Will not take jobs requiring the murder's of innocents, but has an extreme wanderlust.

Bio: Richard was born in Brooklyn, but always had a wanderlust that was hard to supress. As a result, he often explored the ruins of his neighborhood as a child, leading him to hire himself out to the highest bidder to explore uncharted regions of the city, sometmes for next to nothing. This has made him very adept at navigating the subway tunnels that snake throughout the city's underbelly, as well as the aboveground regions.

"Names Josh, and see you" Josh replied.
He walked into the arena, he saw a man at a booth that said "Signup" Josh walked up to the booth.
"Hey I am looking to sign up for the arena are there any spots open" asked Josh.
"Yeah there is only fifteen spots left for this week" said the man.
"Ok I am going to need your Name, Age and Battle Name"
"Alright my name is Joshawa I am 25 and well I guess I will make up a name" said Josh.
"Alright make it" said the man.
"Umm how about the Manhattan Avanger" said Josh.
"That is avalible your match is in fifteen minutes it is a surprise match it will be any random match be prepared for anything" said the man.
"Oh alright" said Josh.

He walked to the barracks and saw a man in the corner sharpning his dagger.
Josh walked up to the man.
"Hello what's your name" said Josh.
"Hunter who are you" said Hunter.
"I am Joshawa Schultz came here for some caps" said Josh.
"Yeah I came here for the same reason ended up becoming the champion" said Hunter.
"Woah! your the champion" said Josh surprised.

There was a sharp sounding crackling noise around the arena then a loud ring the intercom turned on "Joshawa Schultz it is time for your match please enter the arena" the intercom echoed throughout the barracks.

"Well it's your time go prove yourself" said Hunter.

Joshawa entered the arena and awaited to find out what his match would be.

Signup Sheet

Name: Alfonse Birn

Age: 19

Race/Gender: Male

Faction/Side: N/A

Appearance: 6'3 Caucasian, Short black hair, dark green pupils, And suprisingly, he has every tooth in his head.

Primary Skills(6): Unarmed, Sneak, Lockpick, Repair, Speech, And Medicine.

Weapon(s): A sniper rifle with 200 remaining rounds, and a silenced 10mm pistol with 400 rounds last time he checked.

Armor/Clothing: The right arm of a power armour plate. A trench coat, small sunglasses, and large combat boots.

Medical Items: 8 stimpacks, a pack of mentats, and a single 10 mm bullet called "The cure" If you get the meaning.

Misc Items/Food & Drink: 3 Nuka-colas and 3 days worth of purified water and sugar bombs.

Personality: He is usualy quiet and has kept to himself for the past several years. Usualy when he sees another human being he shoots first, steal from the corpse later, but because of the lack in human communications he has began to loosen up on the shoot first, steal from the corpse later policy.

Bio: Born a slavers son, he killed his father at a young age, freed the slaves, and ran to Midtown in search of a safe home. After 6 days of small rations from a single loaf of bread and a bottle of water, he finnaly found a safe haven among the top floors of the empire state building. Up there he found a sniper rifle between a mans legs, the barrel under his chin (yes he killed himself), a wrench, parts from other guns and a silencer for a 10 mm pistol. His life started with daily raiding of stores and hiding from roving slavers and raiders. After 14 years of hiding, it finaly may be time for "Al"(alfonse) to move from he fortress in the sky to a more populated region.

OFF TOPIC POST
Members

Josh gro-Grahz, Joshawa Schultz
The Comedian,William Ickis
Shocking_Expression, Alan Lancer
Mere, Reserved
ShadowStriker7, Reserved
TH3_LON3_W4ND3R3R, Alex Johnson
ringman, bloodletter
Ian Mc, Amy Holden
Stream, Tucker Meris
Francois Lachon, Andy Truman
Yarg im a Zombar, Alfonse Birn
rmctagg09, Richard Grey
Byzantine, Jonathan Dwight Winters
If there is any one else please let me know

Might I join?

Name: Jonathan Dwight Winters

Age: 29

Race/Gender: Caucasian, Male

Faction/Side: Himself

Appearance: Jonathan skin is in sharp contrast to many of the inhabitants of the city, pale. His hair is brown and exceedingly well-kept. His eyes are a light shade of blue, he is tall for a human but still pales in comparison to many of the creatures stalking the ruined city.

Primary Skills(5): Medicine, Science, Repair, Small Guns, Explosives

Weapon(s): 10mm SMG, Combat Knife

Armor/Clothing: Jonathan wears a well-maintained scientist outfit, he cleans it obsessively and this keeps it in marginally good condition, of course one can hardly clean away a bullet hole! Jonathan has thus kept his coat unharmed by bullets and the like, but it is unlikely to remain that way.

Medical Items: Jonathan has a stockpile of 5 Stimpacks and 3 Med-x syringes.

Misc Items/Food & Drink: Jonathans current stockpile of food consists of 5 bottles of purified waters, 3 boxes of suger-bombs and two boxes of insta-mash.

Personality: Jonathan has been called insane, a megalomaniac of the darkest strain-he laughs at these words. He is not insane, merely..morally flexible. Everything is done for the greater good of mankind as a whole-and if that means he has to torture thousands of innocent creatures and humans, then so be it! In reality, Jonathan is quite insane. He has no morals to speak off and his "experiments" often do more harm then good.

Bio: Jonathan was born in the streets, his parents had no home, no place to live, they were wanders, scavengers taking what items they could and selling them. Such a profession is quite dangerous-and a pack of raiders caught up with his parents when Jonathan was but eighteen. They didn't kill his parents right away-but tortured them for days on end, and of course, they made Jonathan watch the process. Just as his parents expired, the raiders turned on each other-Jonathan fled during the confusion and ended up in Midtown, Jonathan quickly fled into a nearby building-a library with a intact virtual database. Jonathan, having little to do but wait for death, sifted through the database.

What he found amazed him. Within hours, he had learned of things lost to memory, of miraculous feats of science and technology-he was captivated by this and he swore to himself that he would use his newfound knowledge to aid mankind, he lived in the Library for years-buying food and such off traders and scavengers, when he found himself unable to pay, he merely did the next logical thing, he hunted the Racroaches sealed in the sublevel of the library. He subsisted of this diet for many years, but he left the library eventfully as he had finished sifting through it's database. As a result of his studies, Jonathan is an expert in the field of science and skills related to it-and as a result of his struggles to survive, he is skilled with many forms of small arms as well.

After a few days of wondering, Jonathan found the perfect place to carry out his experiments-a building in Midtown known as "The Charles Darwin Research Hospital" . Jonathan quickly moved into the building-only to find a gang of raiders had beaten him it. He snuck around the building, seeking a way to remove the raider-and soon he found it, he reactivated the Turrets that were scattered through the buildings-the raiders were massacred by the unexpected attack and..Jonathan moved into the building. However, due to a run in with a unknown form of gas-he was rendered quite insane.

Currently, Jonathan is stilled holed up in the Research Hospitable, carrying out his wicked experiments. The Research Hospitals defenses consist of a few turrets and one reactivated Protectron.

Yes of course you can Join infact your chatacter is perfect he has alot of potential

Jonathan walked through the halls of the hospital, from the outside it looked run-down and abandoned. Ruined. But on the inside, things were different. The interior of the building was quite-well maintained, indeed, it's insane inhabitant had even managed to restore lighting to a few room in the hospital. Jonathan was currently checking up on his latest experiment-he had captured a group of fifteen Radroaches and placed them in a room with a raider he sedated. The purpose of this experiment? To determine the combat worth of a human being against an insect swarm. The room that this horrid experiment was being held in loomed in the distance, the metal door that led into the room was sealed tightly-and a viewing window was placed right next to it.

Jonathan walked towards the window at a brisk pace-and broke into a cheerful smile when he saw what was happening within the room.

The raider was fighting for his life-he was swinging a battered lead pipe at the encroaching swarm-but he was failing to contain them, one roach managed to get a bite in-and then another roach leaped forward and landed on the raiders face-biting and clawing. The raider screamed and fell backwards..and then the battle was as good as over. The roaches swarmed over the body and began to pull it apart in a feeding frenzy. Jonathan's smile grew wider as he quickly jotted down the results of his experiment on a salvaged clipboard. While he wrote, Jonathan mumbled to himself. "Subject-B5 was unable to fend off the insects, the swarm consumed him. I am pleased with the results, next time I shall cut off the subjects arm and see if pain is a better motivator then the promise of freedom that kept the..former subject B-5 going."

With his notes completed, Jonathan spun about and began to walked down the barely lit hall, all the while humming a jaunty tune. It had been a good day. A very good day.

William walked through the doors to the Madison Square Garden. He grunted as a group of Chronicles walked past him, whispering to each other. Having no attempt to hide the fact the whispers were about him. He continued to a man standing behind the signup booth.

"I want to fight. Slavers, Raiders, and Chronicles only."

"That can be arranged, unless a surprise match comes. That way you'll have to fight whatever we throw at you."

"Or what?"

"Or you can take a trip down to Hell's Kitchen, and pay off our dept. What's your name?"

"Call me Ickis. I'm twenty-six. I'm a Rebel Fighter."

"Welcome to the Area, Ickis. You fight in thirty minutes. Be ready."

OOC: ... Okay, just control my Character, at this rate, I don't know if I'll be able to keep up, so many posts in one day... I can't post anything now because I can't read that much and have my eyes not square. Sorry guys, I might post later if I get the chance, but probably not anytime tomorrow...

Malcome woke up too the smell of smoke.
He looked around and found his door on fire.
Malcome swore and looked around .
He checked the window and found away out, jumping into the pile of sacks of yeast.
Malcome jumped and yelled out in pain when he hit the bottem.
He looked up and found out that his room was the only one burning.
He told the Inn manager and looked around outside.
He saw three dark coated figures, with raider tatoos.
Malcome put his katana to one of the guys throat and demanded information.
They pulled out there guns and shot at Malcome missing him by an inch.
Malcome cut them down in a single strike.
"Damn that was close" he decided to take a walk to clear his mind.

Alan left the arena thinking that the kid could use the money more than him, so he walked back to the bar.
a little bit later a man in a black fedora came and sat next to him.
"your the man who killed the slaver, correct?" he said in a dark voice.

"yes, I am, who are you?" Alan said back to him
"I am no one, but i have an offer to kill for..." he said
"how much?" Alan asked.
"I'll give you 50 now, 300 when you get back" the man said
'350!' Alan thought 'i could buy a mini nuke with that!'
"who is he?" Alan asked.

"I sent 3 men to burn down his hotel room, but he got out and cut down my boys"
"he cut down 3 men, damn. Anyways i accept. " Alan said.
Alan left the bar with the details the man gave him.
He went of to find the mystery swordsman.

Tucker had been crawling through the maze for almost 15 minutes now, getting closer and closer to the cheering. He had a great point of view right above the Arena pit; he would pull off a vent grate and poke his head out. No one really noticed him, they were all too busy swilling in booze and women, cheering at the violence below, hoping to hit it big to pay off their gambling debts. The creaking sound of the vents as he crawled were getting louder. He even once overheard a guard saying the place was haunted, which always gave Tucker a laugh every time he crawled past his post. He had memorized most of the face's that visit the arena. Every guard, every regular, and every fighter. The cheering was now below Tucker, coming up through the grate. He slowly popped it off, and bent the metal just enough to pull it through its fitting and up to him. Tucker lied down flat on his stomach, looking straight down towards the bloodied pit. This next fight should be good.

A voice cracked over the loudspeaker, getting ready to announce the next fighters.

"HELLO EVERYONE AND WELCOME TO THE MADISON SQUARE GARDEN ARENA, NOW TONIGHT WE HAVE A SPEICAL MATCH YOU SEE TONIGHT WE WILL FIND OUT WHAT THIS MAN WILL BE DOING LET ME GO SEE THE BOSS AND WE WILL FIND OUT" The Announcer said, a few minutes later he came back "ALRIGHT EVERYONE WE HAVE A VERY SPECIAL MATCH AND THAT IS...A...LANDMINE MATCH AND FOR THE FOLKS WHO DO NOT KNOW WHAT THAT IS WE WILL GIVE AN EXPLANATION SHORTLY".

"Alright a Landmine Match is a one on one matche with no weapons except your fists but there is landmines hidding all around the arena and the crowd can through land mines in the match so are one of you ready to die" said the announcer "HERE IS THE OPPONENT HE IS A LANDMINE MATCH EXPERT ROCKWELL JIMMIE BOLLEYLE" The crowd cheered for them.

"3,2,1 GO" THe announcer yelled.

Rockwell through a right hand and Josh grabbed his arm and twisted it around almost breaking it he then kneed his in the stomach and flipped him over, Rockwell got back up and started to throw punches Josh dodged a few but then got stunned by a vicous left hook to the jaw. Rockwell lifted up Josh above his head and through him on the ground, a man in the crowd through a land mine and Rockwell and Josh dived forward, the shrapnel from the explosion went into Rockwell back. Josh saw the shrapnel in his back and took it out and stabbed Rockwell in the stomach Shrapnel screamed in pain Josh then kneed Rockwell in the face breaking his nose on impact and did it again and again. Rockwell fell on the groudn from the pain Josh then stomped on his chest and then stomped on his leg. A man from the crowd threw a landmine and it landed right beside Rockwell's head but he was unable to move and Josh was already running.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-" Rockwell screamed before the landmined exploded chunks of his head flew into the crowd and in the air.

"Ladies and Gentlemen we have your new LANDMINE CHAMPION since he is the new CHAMPION he gets a bonus forur thousand CAPS" said the announcer.

Josh collected his caps and left the arena.

"Were did he go"

He will be in the Arena barracks recruiting people to be Rebels, that's what they told Amy.
Her mission was to kill the second in command of the Rebels. The Chronicle leader told her to take out anyone else who witnessed the death.

As she walked towards the arena barracks her heart thumped quickly, she had never killed anyone before. But Amy would kill the man and she would serve her city well. She walked over to a man sitting behind a desk, he asked, "Ma'am you wantin to register for the arena? Or are ya lookin to go home with me tonight."
Ugh, men are like dogs these days!
"No, I'm looking to join the Rebels." The man pointed towards a group of four, "Over there."
Four of them! How am I gonna do this?
Your looks and your speech Amy...
You think I can get the guards away from him?
We can only hope...
Amy walked over to the four men and asked, "Gents, may I join the Rebels". She put on her sweetest smile, the men stared at her in dazzlement.
One of the men stuttered, "Ss-Sure! Um... Your name?"
"Oh, my name is Daisy. What's yours?" Amy did her best to sound cute and innocent.
"My name is Jason and I'm second in command", he flexed his arms trying to look tough.
"Wow! They are giant muscles! Want to show me them all, without your top on?"
Amy could read Jason's mind, Jackpot!.
Jason ordered the guards, "Lads I suggest you go have a nice drink and meet me here tomorrow." The guards left, in a foul mood.

Amy pulled Jason over to a empty corridor and put him against the wall. Jason put his arms around Amy. She quietly slipped her switchblade out from her belt underneath her dress.
Cover his mouth and do it Amy!. She connected her lips to Jason's then stabbed him in the back. He jolted in pain, but Amy kept her lips locked to Jason's. He slumped to the ground after five seconds. She felt a great sense of power and adrenaline.
Come on, get out of there!. She walked quickly away from the body and out of the barracks. She could hear an announcer cheering over a battle.

Ok job done. Back to Chinatown...

Jonathan took a moment to observe the halls he walked through, the walls were scarred and the floor was dotted with the rubble that came from centuries ill-treatment. He sighed, if only he had lived in earlier times! His experiments would be so much more interesting! He suddenly stopped humming and broke into a wide grin. He began to mumble to himself. "New idea: capture new subject and place them in a large room with a group of captured raiders, release several Rad Scorpions into the room and inform the subjects that the only way to survive is to kill the other subjects. The raiders will be unarmed, the captured subject will not. Purpose of experiment: Define just how far average humans will go to survive." Jonathan broke into a fit of laughter.

He nodded to himself, it was time to collect new subjects?but how to go about it? He needed subjects-but they had been getting harder and harder to find. Jonathan sighed. Such was the burden of science

Richard's flashlight illuminated the darkness of Broadway-Nassau Station as he walked within it. He was also wading through waist-deep water, courtesy of wear and tear over the years. Richard said, "[censored], it smells like Brahamin mudpies down here." As he walked foward, he stopped when he heard a sound. The station then echoed with squeaks, causing Richard to say, "[censored], rats." The rats that inhabited the subway were large, nasty, and opportunistic, eating anything they could find. Their most notable feature was their sharp teeth, capable of chewing through concrete and metal.

Richard then started to break into a sprint as he heard the giant rodents started getting closer. He ran up a ramp and jumped over a turnstile, running up an exit. Once he reached the surface, Richard breathed a sigh a relief and thought, "Good things it's still light out, if it had been nightime, I would've been screwed." Richard then sat on a ruined bench as he took out his map. While he was trying to pinpoint his exact location, a group of ten armed men surrounded him. Their leader, a grizzled man wearing an eye patch, said, "Are you a Rebel or a Chronicle? Speak now or your guts will be giving the ground a new paintjob." Richard said, "Neither, I'm a freelance explorer just trying to survive in this hellhole."

The man smiled and said, ""Since you seem to have no allegiance to those two, how'd you like to do a job for us?" Richard said, "That depends on the job. I'm an explorer, not an assassin or murderer." The man said, "We need someone to bring us a certain artifact from the AMNH near Central Park, a meteorite from the Hayden Planetarium. If you do this, we'll pay you 500 caps and hook you up with supplies." Richard asked, "Why can't you do that yourselves?" The msn said, "We have other business to take care of." Richard thought that they weren't telling him everything, but the chance to explore a new area and get supplies for it was too much to pass up. Richard said, "Ok, I'm in." He then started walking off to the north. The man said, "We're following him, let's see if that guy has what it takes to join us." The ten men then trailed Richard, using a slightly different route to keep hidden.

Can I sign up?


Name: Charlie Noriz

Age: 19

Race/Gender: Mixed Race (Born to British Dad and African American Mother)

Faction/Side: Neutral

Appearance: 6'2, slim build (dont underestimate), hazel liek eyes, Buzz Cut.

Primary Skills(6): Science, Lock Pick, Big Guns, Barter, Medicine, Speech

Weapon(s): Modified Hunting Rifle, Scoped .44 Magnum

Armor/Clothing: Combat Armor

Medical Items: 5 Stimpaks, 2 Mentats, 3 Rad-Away and the occasional Jet for having a good time

Misc Items/Food & Drink: Nuka-Cola, Bag of Crisps

Personality: Always Neutral, often intervenes at the wrong time, and never goes the wrong way (you'll see what I mean later on)

Bio: Charlie was born in Broadway, to two rich parents. At age 16 his Father left their household never to be seen. And his mother later on died 2 years later, forcing him to go out into the runins of New York and find his new life. He often wanders alone, often getting into a fight at the real wrong time. never on any side. He is alone. And always will be.

I'll try and start in later.

RESERVED

The last match was unfortunate. He had always hated their gimmick matches; Tucker thought it was much better when the fights were straight-up and personal. The spray of blood from the loser had splattered into the open hole, a few specks hitting Tucker in the face. He wiped it onto the inside of his jacket, not wanting any bright colors on him. Tucker grabbed the grate and slowly moved it back outside of its opening. He bent it back into shape and pulled it tightly into place. Lifting himself up, his strained back cracked, making him yelp sharply in pain. No one would be able to hear it over the crowd. He retrieved a small syrette from his vest and lifted his jacket. With a sharp jab, the Med-X entered his body, giving near immediate relief. He bent the needle and tossed it behind him, sighing in relief. As he just began to move forward, he felt his heart drop as the iron below him bellowed.

The vent had given under his weight, and dipped down, getting ready to drop. The loose grate fell off, but Tucker was quick enough to dive halfway out and catch it, not wanting it to fall on the clean up crew. He felt him self slowly slide further and further out of the vent, while it simultaneously prepared to break off and fall.

"Give me a [censored] break!"

Alan was walking toward the arena barracks to get some information on the mystery swordsman when he stumbled across the dead body of a dead rebel with a small stab wound in his back.
He then realized that there was more than one assassin at work.

Alan put the swordsman job on hold for awhile, he can't find the man who's invisible can he?
Alan made his way to the Broadway district.
"Hey, no slavers or Chronicles allowed!" the guard said pointing his rifle at Alan.
"hey whoa, I'm not either!, If I was I would Probably be dirtier right?" Alan told him.
"well, yeah I guess, come on in" he said to Alan.

Broadway looked more wealthier than the other districts.
He quickly located the nearest bar, opened the doors and had a seat.
"I'm sorry to trouble you, but you have the look of a killer..." a wealthy looking woman said to him
"well miss, you have good eyes to notice that, what can I do for you?" Alan said.
"well I need someone-"
"dead right" Alan cut her off mid-sentence.
"yes, my husband, I want his Money and I can't wait for natural causes to take his ass" She said.
"I hope to be well compensated?" Alan said.
"oh, yes yes, how does 300 sound." the woman offered him.
"that sounds like a yes to me!" Alan said to her.

The woman gave him the details.

Name: Frank Steinman
Faction: Broadway
Mugshot: Fat, buzz cut, usually smokes a cigar
Favorite location: Derth's Broadway booze hall.

Alan was told by the targets wife that he would be there from 5 to 8 tonight as it was 10 cap beer night.
Also she gave him the weapon she wanted to kill him with.
It was Frank's favorite.
A Speargun.

Alan set of to wait at the booze hall.
He ordered his favorite, Vodka.
There many fat drunk rich men there, neglecting there wives.
It almost 5:30 according to his makeshift watch.
Finally his target walked through the doors, two loose women at his side.
His wife wanted him dead for the wrong reason, money.
Alan was going to kill him for the right reason.
Alan waited to get an opening, and he finally got one.
"excuse my ladies, I have to drop a gold brick!" he said.
The women let out fake giggles.
Alan followed him in to the bathroom with the Speargun in hand.
Alan hid behind a stall wall and waited.
The man walked out of the stall.
Alan ran up behind him and slammed his head into the mirror and shattered it.
"agh, who the hell!" the man said.
Alan kicked him in the stomach and the man fell backward into the stall on to the toilet.
"who are you, what do you want!" he said
"you should of spent more time with your wife" Alan told him.
Alan ripped the electrical cord powering the lights and tied it to the end of the speargun.
He fired it and it went straight threw the mans chest.
Immediately the the electricity started to take effect.
It wasn't spear that killed him it was the shock.
He died, smelling like bacon, with a "Shocking Expression" on his face
Alan quickly ran out as they were going to find the body due to the lights out and the smell.
Alan had a hard time finding the woman, but he found her address on his contacts list.
He walked in the door to find that the house was quite clean, even to pre-war standards.
"Your husband-" Alan said
The woman repaid him the favor of cutting him off as he talked.
"yes I already heard, nice handy work, here's your pay" she said.
"listen, I have put together an assassin business and i was wondering if you would be a part?" she offered him.
"well, who's our main targets? Alan asked.
"anyone who gets too influential, that means Rebels, Slavers, Chronicles, anyone, are you in?" she told him.
Alan still had the job for the mystery swordsman, but this way he could grab more leads on him.
"I'm in"

Why are rebels always the good guys?

Richard had walked above ground for three hours, downing a bottle of purified water and some Ant Meat on the way. Right now, he was once again underground, as he knew the AMNH had an underground entrance, meaning he could bypass any beings patrolling the surface. Once he reached the museum station, he climbed up the platform ladder and directly entered the museum. There were no windows, but there were lights, meaning that the museum was inhabited. Richard thought, "The question is, by whom?" As he walked past a Viking longboat, Richard realized the identity of the inhabitants by walking into a mutilated corpse.

Richard said, "Raiders, I knew that guys was holding something back, but I am a man of my word, I'll find that rock." Richard then heard footsteps and hid behind the longboat. Three Raiders walked in, each armed with Chinese Officer Swords. Richard thought, "Luckily it's only three Raiders and none of them have firearms." Richard then took out his Combat Knife and threw it into the back of a Raider's head, killing him instantly. While the other two were distracted, Richard ran through one Raider with his M1's bayonet, and killed the other by bashing his face in with his rifle butt. With three dead Raiders lying on the ground, Richard took a museum map from a stall and walked deeper into the museum.

Who said they were good

The Opening Post

damn your good.