Disclaimer.
I don't own Fallout, Fallout 2, or any of the various spin-off's of the series.
I –do- own copies of 1, 2, and Tactics, though, Tic-Tacs was a bit of a let-down..
Some things in this tale are based off of events only taking place in MIB88's Fallout 2 Megamod, a collection of various cool mods, so, all of that credit goes to MIB88 and the many modders too numerous to list.
I just wanted to clear this up quickly, the story -may- seem somewhat 'campy' or somesuch towards the beginning, ala, the next chapter, but, as it goes on, it gets darker, reflecting how the wastes gradually begin to effect the Chosen One, and his outlook on life.
Remember, when you leave in the game, it's really the first time you've gone out too far from the village, so, you'd pretty much be at least a -little- naive, especially when younger.
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"What have I become… My sweetest friend? Everyone I know… goes away, in the end…" N.I.N.-Hurt
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I fell on my back, -hard-. That -bastard- Horrigan just knocked me to the side like a bloodied rag-doll…
Pieces of my stolen Power Armor were missing; ripped away in the fight. Blood and oil from the hydraulic-assisted servomotors were leaking onto my vault suit, reminding me of how badly I'd been hurt. I looked up, just as that metal freak ripped Sergeant Stone in half, and knocked Klint, one of my closest friends, twenty feet into the gray steel wall behind him. He didn't get up.
Vic and Cassidy weren't doing any better, and Myron, that little smart-ass, fell to a hail of bullets from one of the auto-turrets.
I couldn't see Sulik anywhere, and that worried me. Then, it hit me like a sledgehammer: Where's Davin?! I tried my damndest to get my head up and look, and, I saw him, face down, blood leaking out of his armor. Every moment up until now flashed by, every memory came screaming to life.
I lifted my M72, and aimed at the huge 'Secret Agent'. If I'm dying… This fucker is coming to hell with me…
My name's Dimitri, The Chosen One of a tribal village called Arroyo…. This is my story.