Introduction
This chapter is a short divergence from the storyline, but is designed to provide a little flavour for you, the reader. It has been suggested to me by a peer that I go into more detail regarding my characters' back stories and appearances, and also regarding the setting of the story; time, location, etc. While generally I am opposed to this because I feel that the reader has the right to imagine the setting and characters for themselves without being corrupted by forced descriptions, I have relented here and so will describe in detail what I see when I think of Wilson, Roscoe, Grit, and the general setting of my story. Consider any of this that is not specifically mentioned in the story as non canon, but as flavour material. Here we go.
Setting
Fallout: A Tale of Two Traders is of course set in the Fallout universe, in the wasteland of America following the two hour world war of 2077. Its set a little east of California and Nevada, in Arizona or New Mexico perhaps. I reckon that it takes place around there because I identify more with the desert-like wasteland of Fallouts 1&2, rather than the more Savannah like, hilly and countryside-like Capital Wasteland. It takes place some time after the bombs fell; late enough that some of the Vaults (the normal, 'control' Vaults, or the even some of the defective ones) have opened and the ordinary wastelanders are aware of their existence, late enough that enough traders have gathered to create mercantile communities, but still too early for real factions beyond the Brotherhood of Steel to have emerged. The New Californian Republic, for example is still some way off. I estimate the year to be around 2095; several Vaults, including the well known Vault 8 (Vault City) are open, and trader communities are prevalent. Whilst many buildings and locations are nearly inaccessible due to the bombing, some are still open, and contain pre-war material that has not degraded much in the twenty years since the war.
Characters
Wilson
Wilson is a wizened, windswept, middle aged man. His hair was blonde, but over the years it has since greyed. His face is a premature mass of wrinkles, likely brought on by harsh living conditions and stress. He has also been known to smoke, another contributing factor to his looks. He is averagely built, but is generally physically fit for a man of his age. He stands about 5'10'', but a slight slouch developed by hard work and heavy lifting has reduced him to a short 5'8''. He has been trading for about twenty years, starting pretty much immediately after the war. He seems to be about 40 to 42, not too old for work in the wasteland, but old enough to have seen it all. He was born before the war, and lived about half his life in the pre-war age. He doesn't like to speak about it. It is not yet known if he survived the war with anyone, or even how he survived. He may be a former vault dweller; his interest in the PIP Boy could allude to that. As seen by his behaviour in chapter 3, he isn't a fighter. His aim is competent enough, but there is something about the heat of battle that grips his heart and squeezes it in an iron fist. It is in that respect that he relies on Roscoe. His identity as a scavenger suggests that despite his old life is 20 years gone, he still clings to it, and refuses to move on to the reality of the world.
Roscoe
A caravan guard by trade, Roscoe is a young man born in the heat of battle. He is about 22, also born before the war, though he has no memory of the pre-war age. An athletic man, he is about 5'11'', and stands bolt upright, giving him an air of attentiveness and awareness of his surroundings. His rounds, bronze face and small eyes suggest Hispanic origins, but Wilson has never asked. A thin scrap of facial hair gives him a slightly softer edge, despite being only a charcoal black thin moustache and a soul patch. Like Wilson, he doesn't mention his early life often, though that could be because he was just a baby when the bombs fell. Again, it is not known how he survived the war, but Wilson has speculated that he spent the days before and after October 23rd holed up in a military depot, for all his love of guns and killing machines. He originally met Wilson in a bar in a trader community, where Wilson employed him as a caravan guard. After getting each other out of several bad situations, the two became firm friends. Indeed, Wilson does not give Roscoe a standard salary, but instead they share their fortune. Ultimately, it is Roscoe's combat aptitude that makes him valuable to Wilson, just as it is Wilson's contacts in the trader community that make him helpful to Roscoe.
Grit
A towering hulk of a man, Grit is the chief of the Dustbowl guards. Measuring a grand 6'5'' and built like a brick shithouse, Grit keeps Dustbowl safe. He is estimated to be around 30 years old, but by his own admission it is uncertain. He claims to have travelled far to reach Dustbowl and its part of the world, and he certainly doesn't look local. Dark skinned not just through the sun, Grit appears to be of Persian heritage. Completely bald, Grit takes great pride in his facial hair, a mat of black fuzz on his chin connected to his lower lip by a strip of thick stubble. Never seen in more than a tank top, baggy military trousers and boots, he is often found either cleaning the many guns in his armoury in the Dustbowl outpost, scanning the horizon for approaching threats, or in and among the Dustbowl stalls.
I hope that those of you who wanted greater detail are sated, but by all means remember that this is non canon, and is merely my interpretation. Please make the characters what you want them to be. The next chapter is on its way; I intend for it to be a setting up chapter, following the action heavy third instalment. Please review, and thanks for reading!