A faint wind blew across the grassy fields, as dandelions whisked in the air, a small cloud of white seeds covering the area like a swarm of butterflies. The Sun rose behind the hills, the warm cantaloup rays shining upon the shamrock hills with hints of peach splashed on the cerulean skies. A melodic carol of Warbles and Robins accompanied the songbirds and canaries which flew across the landscape.
The Wanderer marched past the grass, Ol Painless in hand and his gaze scanning the top of the hill. Dogmeat guided his master, sniffing around the rocks of the hill, as mountains loomed over the two in the distance.
Though thoughts of last night still lingered, the Wanderer stilled himself; he had his mission, he had his duty and he would fulfill it. The gun was loaded and he scanned around, for any sort of Grimm waiting to ambush him.
The tracks had begun to disappear due to the elements, however, he still managed to track a certain path, all thanks to barely visible tire tracks and Dogmeat's nose. Apparently, the road left the forest and made its way towards the series of hills outside.
It did not matter, for he would find his quarry and would make them pay.
Dogmeat's barks caught him off-guard, making him sprint towards the Dog. As he made it, he noticed the hound clutching something in his mouth, his tail wagging. The Wanderer held his hand out, the dog spitting the object out.
It was a crimson bandana; the gray symbol of a wing he had seen the bandits brandish back in Shion upon it. His smirk grew behind the helmet as he clutched the cloth. He was on the right track and the fools would pay for their crimes. He passed it to Dogmeat who sniffed again, before guiding the Wanderer.
The Lord's work must be done.
Yet as he loomed on the hill, his head turned to his left; brows furrowing as they gazed upon the small wooded area made of birch and oaks. He could make out buildings in the distance, the same style he had seen all over this strange new world. However, a trail of smoke rose from the Town, alarm bells ringing in the back of his mind.
Trouble; seems like he'll have to make a small detour to his hunt.
"Dogmeat let's go, boy!"
The Hound gave a bark and the two rushed towards the Town, ready for the worst.
The Wanderer had rushed down the hill and into the wooded area, Ol Painkless switched with the Gauss Rifle and ready in hand to blast anyone apart who dares attack the village. Yet as he got closer, he began to slow down as he heard voices. Though his gun was still up, he jogged ready for any sort of ambush.
As he made it past a bush into the Village's clearing he stopped; relief washing over him. Though clear signs of damage such as scratches on the walls and a hole through it were there, compared to Shion and Tsukimaki the place was still standing.
Several people were in fact working on fixing the wall, using bricks and cement while stabilizing it with wood. Some guards with asian-styled laminar armor guarded the walls and holes armed with bolt-action rifles and polearms. Several raised their weapons upon spotting the Wanderer.
"Hold right there stranger!" the closest guard slowly approached the Wanderer, " Put your hands up and state your business!"
With a sigh, the Wanderer slowly placed the Gauss Rifle on the ground and raised both hands up. "I'm not here to cause any problems, saw the town was smoking and came to assist."
The guard's eyes narrowed as he glanced at both the Wanderer and Dogmeat. Sighing, he motioned for another guard, who nodded and rushed into the Village. "If that's true, stay where you are. Capitan Choroksaek will be here in a minute."
Nodding, the Wanderer still kept his arms up, tapping his foot while Dogmeat sat next to his master. A minute later an older man in green armor came out. Graying maroon hair, lime eyes, and a scar or two near his brow.
Unlike the others, he carried a brass Gatling gun, ready to gun down hoards of Grimm.
"So you're the Stranger who decided to visit our 'fine' town, eh?" The Capitan studied the power armor, before turning to the others. "Stand down people, if they meant to do us harm they probably wouldn't have complied and started shooting before we could even talk."
The other guards lowered their weapons and nodded before resuming their duties. Turning back towards the Wanderer, the Capitan made his way to him and offered him a Hand. "Hwan Choroksaek, Capitan of Dangcheok Village."
The Wanderer chuckled and shook Hwan's hand. "Pleasure to meet ya, sir, hope I didn't scare anyone too much." He then picked up his rifle again and placed it on his back.
"Eh, with the Grimm attack a few days ago, everyone has been on the edge, but not too worry, unlike most villages we like to think we are self-sufficient."
"I'll say." The Wanderer nodded. "Most towns I saw didn't have too many fortifications; what gives ?"
"Let's just say we're strong learners." Choroksaek motioned for him to follow. "Town is pretty old but was once nearly destroyed in a Bandit attack. Fortunately, an entire Huntsmen team saved our butts. The thing is we realized that we couldn't count on just Mistral and huntsmen all the time, so we made a decent militia, got our hands on weapons we could legally possess and fortified our town."
The walls around the village were formed in a square formation, pretty high and covering the village while having walkways and being covered in an asian-styled roof. The buildings were a mixture of huts and wooden houses that while primitive looked...comfortable.
The only thing that perfectly stood out however was a large river passing through the village and even then both ends were gated off by metal bars by the walls. Still, the Wanderer raised an eyebrow as he looked at the Water; the color murky made him wonder if it was healthy...
Still, the inside made the Wanderer halt, a faint feeling of glee warming his heart. Though the wall had been damaged, the people carried on with their lives. Farmers were plowing the fields for vegetables while taking care of livestock, and a local blacksmith was forging a blade, while the sun glistened on his sweat-covered body. To his left a Bakery just opened, the smell of fresh bread and cake attracting some of the locals.
And though there were traces of higher technology, such as cable lines running past the houses, radios, and even a few turrets on the walls, if he didn't know better he might have thought he had traveled back in time.
"Impressive Town; good job your people did there."
"Thanks." Hwan nodded. "Let's step into my office, considering your look I might have a proposition…"
The Wanderer nodded and both stepped into one of the Larger buildings. The Guard station was like a small fortress; strong walls, lots of weapons, and quite a few trophies displayed; mostly some weapons and Grimm skulls. They made it up the stone steps and entered a room, which had been decorated with pictures, an empty armor stand, and an old desk.
"Now then…" Choroksaek sat on the chair. " While we appreciate your concern over the town's safety, I'd say you're a little late there, eh?"
"Hmpf." Crossing his arms, the Wanderer gazed at Hwan. "Been busy hunting down a few people, so I wasn't focused on anyone, Hell didn't even know there was a town here."
"Relax, I'm just teasing friend." Hwan leaned into his chair. "But still doesn't mean we can't use you."
"I'm surprised you'd think I'm competent considering I'm a complete stranger."
"True, but just look at you." Choroksaek pointed at him. "You're an eight-foot-tall monster of a man covered head to toe in massive metal plates that looked as though they went through hell and back! In fact, when I saw you I thought you might have been some atlesian robot prototype of something!"
"Suppose so." Wanderer nodded. "I don't have an issue helping; in fact, I would have asked if you needed anything regardless."
"That's...kind." Hwan smiled. "Not many people offering to help for nothing these days."
"I'm not most people."
"Suppose you aren't." The Capitan chuckled. "Anyway my men told me you were looking for...information?"
"Yes." The Wanderer nodded again. "I've been tracking the Branwen Tribe these past few days; got a score to settle with them."
"Ah." Hwan's mood soured somewhat. "That's Ironic…"
"What is?"
"They are the bastards responsible for the Grimm attack."
A power-armored hand was clenched and Dogmeat whined slightly as he looked up his master. "Did those fuckers attack you? If so I'll goddamned sk-"
"Whoa there, ease up kid!" Both hands were raised by Hwan. "We hate those bandits, but that's a lotta rage you got there…"
"Bandits and Raiders are all the same. They are degenerates." A chilled tone came out of the helmet. "Only thing they deserve is a bullet through their skull."
"Sure…" Hwan nodded. "Still I...never mind…" a sigh escaped the Capitan.
"Regardless, they didn't attack." Choroksaek began. "But they did pass us by, taking the easter road from here. The thing is they were in a hurry because they sped by us like the devil was on their tail."
A faint smirk formed behind the Wanderer's helm.
"Still they had to be afraid of something because next thing we know, every Grimm in the region was rushing blindly to the eastern road. This also meant a local pack of Beowolves which decided to stop at our little town."
The smirk fell.
"Did anyone get hurt?"
"Nothing too serious really." Hwan shook his head. "Some scratches here and there, but most of the guards are trained well and know what they are doing; the only one who got hurt was my kid; Hakun."
A chill went down the Wanderer's spine.
"What happened?"
"He's just graduated from Mistral and wanted to prove himself, the kid was too eager and had his guard down when an Alpha slashed him across the chest. He'll survive, Aura and all but he's still an Idiot. Worst is that since he's in bed we don't have our Huntsman in case something happens."
Great; now he actually had a reason to help the village than just simple altruism, he had to make up for his fuck up.
"Anything you need, I'll do it."
Hwan raised an eyebrow.
"Well, we got our defenses covered, what we need is someone to check out the river." The Capitan crossed his arms. "Something has been happening upstream; the water's turned murky and toxic, and while we have filters at our pumps for farming, we'd rather have our water clean. I need the guards to keep the town safe while constructions are going on and my son is in no condition to check it out; so if you can check it out, that would be helpful"
"I'll see what's going on."
"Appreciate it stranger." the Capitan smirked. "In return, I'll prepare a place for you to rest tonight. If we need something else, we'll tell you."
The Wanderer nodded and began making his way out of the office.
Quest Started: Watching The River Run
-Check the River Upstream and find out why the water is foul
-(Optional) solve the issue and purify the water.
A few minutes after leaving the town, the Wanderer was marching upstream, his rifle up and Dogmeat by his side. His stomach churned as guilt lingered in his soul; this wasn't his intention. Though he was glad that the town took minimal damage, the injury of the Huntsman lingered on his mind.
His actions caused someone to be hurt, and it's all because he didn't get to Shion fast enough. Had he arrived there earlier he might have been able to kill all the Bandits, and the Grimm; no runners, justice served, and another threat eliminated.
Now someone got hurt and all because he didn't get there in time.
A growl escaped his lips as he smacked another bush away; he was going to rectify that, and those Bandits would pay tenfold for their transgression. Dogmeat's whining caused the Wanderer to snap out of his anger, refocusing back on the task at hand.
While he did stick to the river, he did stay close to bushes so he may be able to hide at a minute's notice. And while the rusted, scorched, and white armor wasn't very stealthy the wear and tear did give it a faint layer of camo; making the white less contrasting.
He turned his head towards the river, the flow of water steady and heading in the village's direction, yet covered in a faint layer of oil and some reddish-brown...something. He was used to murky and polluted water.
DC's Potamic was a mess with the water an ugly dark green; you could barely see the bottom even if it was a few feet deep. Among the radiation and trash that floated across most of the river; there were giant algae that obscured everything and worse was what lived in it.
If it wasn't the Mirelurk that lingered at the coasts, it was the massive 'Shark-eels' which reminded the Wanderer of Wolf-Eels he'd seen in a book once just giant and the giant 'Swallowers' as the locals called it. He was pretty sure they were just car-sized Cat-Fishes that had begun getting a taste for humans.
Regardless, the water in DC was not a kind one, and fortunately for him and the rest of the wastes, a lot of the creatures like the Eels and Mirelurks started to die ever since Project Purity was activated.
Not the fucking Swallowers though; he saw a smug Knight once walking into the water to show that it's safe and got taken in one go. Those fucking things are also resilient as fuck. Still, at least it wasn't like in Point Lookout; huge Mutant Mantis Shrimps and Fog Crawlers.
Fuck Point Lookout.
Passing another tree, Dogmeat's faint growling made the Wanderer focus on what was ahead. He fell to one knee and began to shuffle his body forward, passing the branches and trees trying to keep stealthy. As he made it to the last bush he slowly peeked out; his eyes focused on the scene before him…
It reminded him of a Radscorpion, both in size and look. The thing is, it was bigger than the Radscorpions he had encountered, though some of the Paladins who had been with Lyons back west had told him about 'Queens' that got to a similar size.
The people called the Grimm a 'Deathstalker', and by the amount of moss and scratches on its exoskeleton, it was an old one. Next to it was a damaged stone bridge, with a truck sticking out of the river; chemicals and oil leaking.
The Grimm kept poking the truck with its golden stinger, as though curious by its prospect. With every tap more chemicals were flowing out, polluting the river even more. The Wanderer silently groaned; Deathstalkers were tricky bastards in one on one fights. He had killed a few these past months but the amount of ammo it took to take em down was tedious.
If only he had a Missile Launcher…
He glanced at the duffle bag, pulled out the MIRV Launcher, and shook his head; too overkill and he didn't want to destroy the environment even further especially since the river lead to a village. No, brute force was not going to win this battle.
He looked back at the bag, an idea forming as he spotted a few certain objects he rarely had used; hoarding them ironically as a result.
Now where to put them? After all, if his plan was going to work he needed a place to set it up…
His eyes glanced at the forest, a smirk forming once he spotted a small clearing…
Putting the last object in place, he chuckled as he took a few leaves and placed them over it. Rising to his feet he felt proud of his handy work, excited to test out if his theory would work…
He placed his bag in position, told Dogmeat to stay put, and took out a frag grenade, before slowly making his way out of the clearing. Once he made it back to the bush where he stayed before he looked back, seeing that the Deathstalker was still poking at the Truck.
Pulling the pin, he threw the grenade at the Grimm, before rising to his feet.
"HEY, BUG FUCKER!"
The Deathstalker almost instantly turned, only for the Granade to go off. Though it did little damage, it did disorient the creature's poor eyesight. Its red eyes narrowed across its blurry vision until it spotted the Wanderer's waving form.
"COME AND GET ME!"
The Wanderer then took off into the forest.
The Deathstalker bellowed out a screech of titanic magnitude and rushed at the Wanderer's trail, its legs shaking the ground as it sped up. Its massive form crashed into the trees and bushes, destroying them as its eyes focused on the Wanderer's feeling form. Its tail snapped forward going for a stab, but even in the suit of armor, the Wanderer had decent speed.
Its pincers shot forwards, snapping at its assailant, but he ducked under those, still keeping up his momentum. Though it was running, it could faintly feel the exhaustion and stress coming off its prey; a worthy meal then.
As the Wanderer broke into the clearing, so did the Deathstalker growling and screeching as it snapped its pincers in a taunting manner. The Wanderer still ran, passing by the grass and piles of leaves scattered across the clearing. Then as he got to the other side he stopped before turning back towards the Grimm.
"COME ON STINGY!"
Screeching again, the Deathstalker darted at its Victim, its tail falling backward for a powerful stab and its claws clapping. Its speeds were that of a car, causing the wind to form slightly as leaves flew apart. It did not stop, its eyes glued to the power-armored form that was standing his ground.
Then as it was a mere ten meters from the Wanderer it prepared its tail, ready to punch through the stupid armor. Yet as it had focused all of its rage onto the Wanderer it failed to notice the most important part of the clearing. Indeed in its blindness, it failed to notice the pile of frag and bottle cap mines that had been buried in leaves.
Deathstalkers were in essence just giant scorpions, but with a bullet-proof exoskeleton. However, they still shared the same issues as real scorpions; as in their poor eyesight and that their underside wasn't as protected as their back.
Most people would waste ammo and manpower on trying to crack the beast's shell, only to get a clean shot at the literal crawling tank. He just has to place several dozen mines and blow it to kingdom come.
BOOM
The Wanderer covered his visor as a large mushroom cloud erupted from the ground, splattering the Deathstalker across the forest, its exoskeleton raining like bits of metal, only to dissipate as all the other Grimm.
Chuckling he whistled, causing Dogmeat to come out of its hiding with the Duffle Bag.
"Let's go check out that truck boy."
Dogmeat barked twice and forward, guiding the Wanderer towards the river. After a minute of walking, they arrived back, the Wanderer pulling out his Gauss Rifle again. He scanned the area again, his eyes gazing at the flowing waterway; the neon grass contrasted with the mossy trees around the water, with the river being the only outlier.
His head turned towards the bridge; though the river wasn't incredibly large, the bridge while old had been constructed not just to last but with enough size for cars. The fact that something broke implies an assault…
The Wanderer walked towards the bridge making his way to the road; a dirt path like most places in Anima. A frown formed behind the helm as he was surprised they haven't already built an asphalt road, though the Grimm's aggression would probably make highways hard. In fact from what he understood, most travels across Remnant were done by trains, boats, and airships with cars usually either reserved for high-value transport or in cities.
He went down on one knee and glanced at the road, the tracks of multiple trucks still lingering. He grasped a bit of the dirt and let it fall between his fingers…
His head turned back to the bridge, noticing how the barrier to the right side had broken. He walked over it, glancing at the formation. The way it was broken looked less as though the Bandits had driven into it and more like they had been pushed into the river in the last second.
He looked down at the truck, the way it had fallen is that it was flipped to its side, one half sticking out of the water, the other submerged. Yet as he looked closer he noticed a few...holes.
Now that he thoughts about it, a few trees and even the bridge had been covered in holes. It's like huge needles had been thrown at the truck from its side and crashed into it before disappearing.
Yeah, he could make a guess what happened…
Regardless, the Wanderer walked down the bridge towards the River's shore. Placing the gun into the duffle bag, and securing it close to Dogmeat, he turned back to the river. The truck was going to be heavy, WAY too heavy for even himself. And though the power armor will take most of the load off and the 'Ant's Might' mutation would definitely work in his favor, he's gonna need to get some extra strength
His helmet was pulled off, the sun's rays feeling nice upon his skin. pulling out a pouch from a compartment in his armor, he took out a few Buffout pills. Shoving them in his mouth and swallowing them dry, the Wanderer waited a few seconds for the effects to kick in. As his muscles began to bulge and the armor began to feel even lighter, the Wanderer chuckled.
Now for the final part.
His hand went to a small valve at the back of his helm. He placed his helmet back on and twisted the valve. Immediately the frames' vacuum setting activated sealing the armor from any water that could enter it. Done, he began to step into the river. Though the frames and plates weight did well in stabilizing him to the ground, he still felt the faint pull of the river as he began to walk deeper towards the Truck.
The water while deep only made it to his chest, leaving his head above. As he made it to the crash site he went to the back of the truck looking for a good position to pull. The Semi-trailer at the back had a nice door to the cargo which looked sturdy enough. Taking a breath in, the Wanderer began to push. The first push barely did anything, the current keeping the drowned vehicle in place and only making the Wanderer stick even deeper to the river's sandy ground.
However as he pushed a second time, putting more effort into it, there was a little bump, causing it to move slightly. Groaning the Wanderer knew this day was NOT going to be fun.
And so he spent the next few hours pushing. He would sometimes take a break and leave the river for a drink of purified water or even a bite from some cram he had packed, but otherwise, with all the advantages he held, he kept on pushing and pushing the truck out, bit by bit, push by push. As the Truck's front made it to shore, the job became easier, as the Wanderer managed to lift it up slightly and with one mighty press, the Truck made it to land.
As water and seaweed flowed out of the vehicle, the Wanderer let out a groan as he stretched his back; that was agony.
Yet he was still not done.
Running on the last bit of Buffout still flowing through his body, he hoisted the side of the Truck up, letting out a yell as it finally was up. There the truck finally stood; wet, broken and clogged up. Deciding to finally see what the big deal was, the Wanderer made it to the back of the cargo where he looked at the door. Raising his fist back he punched the lock off, only for a tidal wave of water to flow out, nearly slamming into the Wanderer.
What also flowed out were several boxes, a few materials, and two drowned cadavers. The bodies were pale, bloated, and damaged, crabs and fish having taken some bites off the flesh yet not too rotten. One of them had their guts spilled and if the Wanderer had to guess it was the cause of whatever had also caused the massive rips into the vehicle.
The other had been relatively intact, but half of his face was being gnawed at by a few river crabs. Slapping the crustaceans away, the Wanderer studied the man's body more carefully; a worn and torn shirt, fingerless gloves, and a pair of jeans were typical, having noticed that Branwen's bandits didn't put too much into armor, preferring Aura usage.
The small mark on his tabard did confirm however that this was the Branwen tribe. Letting go of the corpse, the Wanderer looks up, back at the truck. Spilling alongside the water was a sort of sludge that was flowing out like a sort of sauce. It was thick and grainy, reminding the vault dweller of porridge to a degree. Grabbing a bit into his hand, he rubbed it in his hand; its consistency not changing, but he noticed that it felt similar to sand...if it had been poured into a jelly or something.
Holding it under the sun it gave off a shine like crystals. Wiping his hand off the bandit's sleeve, he looked back at the interior and notice that some of the boxes were cracked…
PROPERTY OF SDC
This was dust; powered dust.
His best guess was that due to its fine form, once it came into contact with the other dust and water instead of exploding it caused a sort of negative chemical reaction. That was his best guess; he didn't know enough about the substance to make a true guess.
Regardless, having found all he could in the back he made his way to the front of the truck and opened its door. Water flowed out and another corpse dropped right next to the Wanderer. Ignoring the body, he went to search the front. Water had damaged what he could only guess had been a copy of a map or a note of sorts. In the glovebox, he found a scroll and gun, but the water had damaged both.
Groaning, he left the car glancing around.
A bark from Dogmeat caught his attention and he looked towards the hound who was sniffing at the corpse. The body was in a similar state as the others but this feller had worn a vest with several pockets. The Pup was sniffing at a certain pocket of the Bandit, almost whining. Going to a knee the Wanderer leaned in and opened the pocket.
What he found made him raise an eyebrow; it was a picture.
The bandit to who the corpse belonged was leaning next to a girl who was carrying a gun in a mocking fashion. In their background was a large body of water, almost like an ocean. The thing is there were a bunch of floating islands there, like something that came out of a Grognak comic.
Could this be it?
A smirk formed behind his helm; he might have just found a clue.
My sons and daughters of Branwen, remember our home, our glory.
Once we served Mistral and its people, fought and defended its borders from the Grimm Darkness. Our Clan once had its flag raised alongside the others in the Imperial Palace of Haven, and we were most honored.
Unfortunatly the Emperor, a weak and vile man bend his knee to the northern fools of Mantel, seeking an alliance with our ancient enemy! Our house was big, mighty, and influential, yet could not object to his law.
So we spread the word of how the Emperor was licking the feet of the dogs of the North. He censored us, dishonored us, and tried to put us in our places. After the service and servitude we had shown to him and his kin over the years this kind of betrayal was the final straw!
We rose up and took arms! The weaker clans fell before our blades, the rivers were red with their blood, and Mistral was taken by us. The False Emperor's head was removed and put on a spike and we took all he owned as our own including his kin.
Unfortunatly the Dogs of Mantel attacked us with a larger force as we were weakened. The Battle had been long and bloody but eventually, we had to retreat. However, this had proven our point; that the Kingdoms were weak, that Mistral was weak and had to be saved by others.
Our Fortress in Tenshi Island was laid to siege by the combined forces, but they would never wipe us out. We took to the forests, where we hid and stalked. They would send their men in droves yet we knew the wild better than anyone and slaughtered them like the pigs they were.
They dubbed us Bandits, Traitors, Deserters but they are the fools!
For as they will fall to their cowardly ways and their need to rely on others we will survive! We will outlast all upon this cursed world, not Grimm nor Knight nor Samurai shall take us as we take their lives, gold and pillage their lands!
So remember my sons and daughters, remember our glory and remember that if the forests lose their advantage, then remember Tenshi Island! Remember the fortress our forefathers build as we withstood all who faced us! Remember Home!
For it shall shelter us once the storm has died and non but the Branwen remember it…
-Quan Branwen, Clan Father of the Tribe Branwen
"Remember Home…" Raven murmured, so much for that.
Her eyes had been glued to the pages of the old diary, the bags under her eyes even harder. To think that her father never told her about the diary...he probably never bothered reading it. The old bastard had been a stubborn oaf, but a strong one at that.
Regardless, to think that a diary that even predated the great war survived…
Not just that but that the Branwen had been once one of the honored Samurai houses that had served Mistral around a hundred years prior to the great war. Yeah, she wasn't gonna throw that legacy out.
Yet a smirk formed as she re-read the lines.
Tenshi Island...she knew where that was.
And most importantly she knew how the clan would get there.
Whoever the Wanderer was? Good luck trying to find her now...
Another day another chapter.
Hey guys, how are we doing today? I've been having jaw pain the entire day and have been sucking painkillers like a motherfucker so let's hope shit gets better tomorrow!
This chapter was also a smaller and calmer one. Still, now the Wanderer has a clearer idea where Raven fucked off. However, Raven is a step above him and has plans to go somewhere she thinks it will be harder for him to find her. What is that place? And where is "Tenshi island" ?
Anyways onto the reviews!
Kriegy50: Oh he does repair the armor when he can though its not always he can find a good place to use as a power armor station.
selfishgecko: I mean I did use some IRL weapons, like how I turned Ol Painless from a Hunting Rifle to a M1 Garand because I like the Garand more and the M1 Garand existed in New vegas as the "battle rifle". However, I DO like the Classic/West Coast style weapons a lot too so being able to use them is nice! I mean Fallout 3/new vegas plasma pistol looked gross, so I always preferred the Plasma Defender/Glock 86. Or the 10mm Revolver over the Fallout 4 10mm. That and the use of older/classic weapons makes the setting feel more diverse.
ThatSpaceMann2: Glad you liked things so far, hope the next few chapters will be up to your liking!
saelinne: Shame you don't enjoy it, however, I guess this fic isn't for everyone. As for if the Wanderer is overpowered I actually asked a few people I knew how I presented him and they felt like he was fine. I mean let's be honest; this is a man who became a 1-man-army in an inhospitable wasteland by themselves while carrying an entire armory's worth of weapons and ammo all around. The Wanderer's feats from the main story and DLCs only make this guy even rougher and tougher. At the same time, however, remember he never had any big fights with named characters. Sure Raven attacked him, but she sliced him and then fucked off, and when he shot at her she blocked his shots with her sword. Don't worry he won't stomp everyone he comes around, but he's a stubborn bastard too.
Nihilanth1998: How many things he has? Dude ever heard of Privacy? How many things DO YOU carry on you, huh? Not so nice when its on you ISNT IT?! (Jokes aside, he has a few essential weapons and enough ammo and equipment to survive; that's all I'm willing to say since a lot of things I wanna keep a surprise.)
Si Vis Pacem: No problem! Just hope you enjoy the next few chapters!
Black Isle1998: That is indeed true; power armor is fucking strong lore-wise. However, it's obviously not Invincible. I have a certain rule I use for Power Armor that will be later explained AKA how much it can withstand depending on models. T51 is pretty fucking great however all I will say is that certain weapons can indeed shred through it. Though at least it's not at heavy and fragile as the T45.
Guest 1: Yeah, NGL gotta try Fallout 2 once, or rather finish it. I technically finished Fallout 1 in the sense that I did everything I need to do, however, I couldn't get the ending where I cause the master to kill himself by convincing him to nuke himself due to a glitch. I'm not even joking; I got the medical skill, had the holodisk from the BOS, read it, and had the charisma. But for some reason, it didn't give me the option to hand it to him. What makes it even worse is that the Regulator and Razors questline was also bugged and I couldn't complete it. Honestly though if I ever play Fallout 2 i',m making No-bark the chosen one.
Guest 2: Yeah I saw the Vol 9 trailer. Not sure how to feel. I'll be honest Vol 8 was just dogshit especially in the way how they fucked Ironwood by making him "evil" by making him Crazy. Hell even if I didn't agree with the guy, he was done dirty. Vol 9 might be better, and I like the look of DEUS VULT Jaune but other than that my expectations are somewhat low. Who knows tho; maybe I'll be pleasantly surprised kinda how I was back in Vol 6.
SilentKnight: Yeah there's gonna be some divergence, hopefully for the best and some people will like.
Anyways that's it for tonight! Wish ya'll a great day and see ya next chapter!