Old Blood and A New Legend

by The Archaon

In a world ravaged by the fires of nuclear radiation, the Wastes forge Heroes. The Chosen One, the Lone Wanderer, the Courier, people of incredible power and ability, people who can influence entire countries with words alone. But before them all came the original, The Vault Dweller. A legend in the wastes, the aged survivor now has a new goal, and a new Legend to help arise.

1. Prologue

Old Blood and A New Legend: Prologue

The Vault Dweller had been many things. Was many things. He was a legend, his name had spread across the western coast of what remained of the United States, his moniker having spread even farther inland. He was a hero, a man who put others before himself and who had saved not only his own people, but all those of the wastes from the Super Mutant threat that was posed by the Master's Army. He was a survivor, a man capable of adapting to the hell the wastes were for most, and of overcoming the challenges thrown at him.

Above all else though, the Vault Dweller was old. He had been through much in his journey, first having to replace a water chip for his home vault, then having to defeat the threat of the Super Mutants, and then having to find a reason for living after being exiled from the home he worked so hard to save. In that time, he had changed. He had changed mentally, emotionally, but those were changes not easily seen. No, the most apparent changes were the physical. The Vault Dweller, at the end of his quest, was a nigh unkillable god of a man, able to defeat entire armies with but the wave of a hand; as he aged, his strength did not lessen.

Indeed, the Vault Dweller had become something more than human. From the combination of cybernetics, mutations, sicknesses, and other odd occurrences that happened to benefit him, the Vault Dweller became effectively immortal. He did not know this at first, of course; rather he just thought himself to be extremely lucky in his survival. It was after the death of his wife and his leaving Arroyo that he realized the status that he had unintentionally achieved.

However, without anything else to do, the Vault Dweller simply continued to wander, crossing the deserts and wastelands of old America, heading for the East. As he went, he honed his skills past what he thought to be his limits. He helped many a people survive in the hell they found themselves in. It was from these years that the legend of the Grandfather to All comes. The legend goes that when one is in need, a man who looks not unlike a grandfather of many years would come and—against all odds—make the impossible seem arbitrary, in even the bleakest of moments. This is not an unfounded legend of course, as the Vault Dweller could very well be the grandfather of many of those in the wastes, had he been unfaithful to his late wife. For when he left Arroyo, the legendary man was already a very old man, and—though he was immortal—his appearance did not cease to age.

Most of the time nobody noticed his looks of course. It was his voice that told you he was old. Even behind the muffling of his worn and customized suit of Power Armor, one could tell without doubt that he was very old indeed. He had the kind of voice that could be both firm, but loving at the same time. He could very well be the kind grandfather one minute, and the admonishing drill sergeant the next, depending on what was going on. All in all, the Vault Dweller was a powerful, kind, brave, and selfless man. A man to be respected. And after many long years he had finally reached his goal.

A goal made up out of a need for reason, and later continued out of a nead for explanation. The Vault Dweller had a new mission, this time one he made for himself. That mission was simple, but at the same time not, it being to recover information of the Old World, and of what lead to the Great War that caused the Wastes to form. It was a mission that had only just begun as he stepped foot into the old state boundries of a long dead city.

The Vault Dweller had entered D.C.