PLAY: Rage - Capital Prime (SoundTrack)
Alarms blared, orders were shouted and a melody of power-armored footsteps rang through the fortified and blue-tinted halls of Raven Rock Bunker. Shots of plasma flew through the air alongside lasers and a few Gauss shots only to be met by large lasers that hit stronger and quicker.
The Wanderer let out a roar as he aimed Vengeance at the Enclave soldiers; the overcharged heat of the amplified UB-FRIED 3010 Gatling Laser burning through the cheaper models of X-02; vaporizing some while those with superior models of X-01s held. Many of them were behind cover, shooting back towards the Wanderer, the laser shots being reflected by the T45-F suit as the Wanderer kept letting lose. Behind the Visor, several targets were highlighted by his targeting HUD which marked the Remnants of the US army as red.
Several more went down when he aimed his shots towards a nearby fusion generator that blew up. Through the dust cloud and darkness, he could still see the almost demonic eye-pieces of the Vets who were returning fire with Plasma. Unlike the lasers, the shots connected with his armor, and though they held, several scorched dents had formed from the shots onto his left shoulder and right hip.
A growl escaped him as the two plates were on the red on his HUD.
He aimed Vengeance toward the two vets, ignoring the heat of the Plasma damage. The first went down after repeated shots at incredible speeds burned through his plate and left a large gap in his chest. The Second actually dropped his gun and charged at the Wanderer with a ripper.
"FOR AMERICA!"
The bastard managed to Tank the shots and close the distance before ramming it through the Wanderer's chest. The blade ripped through the armor plate but had trouble through the frame and the combat armor he wore under the suit. A hydraulic-modded punch was sent towards the Enclave vet, causing his optics to break with him crashing to the ground. The Wanderer pulled the Ripper from his armor and with a mad yell jumped onto the downed soldier and shoved the weapon through the broken optic slit.
A scream escaped the Vet as blood splattered against the T45 helmet. The Wanderer left it inside as he rose back up and looked toward the map. He was currently at the Second Level of the base in the Storage Quarters. He looked towards the front of the hall, seeing more of Eden and Augustus's goons making their way towards him.
Good.
With a laugh he picked up Vengeance again, standing over the pile of corpses. Several of the Enclave soldiers took positions, hiding behind door frames and defensive covers, some even using some of the storage trunks as makeshift cover.
"And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him!" The Wanderer ranted and aimed again "And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth!"
And true to the Wanderer's words, Death came for the Enclave.
His eyes shot open and the first thing he saw were the fields of green.
He glanced around, finding himself leaning at the end of the run-down tunnel, staring at a vast landscape. Though he was covered in his armor, he felt a slight chill from the gray sky rain clashing against his plates. The droplets pinged and pittered against the winterized paint of the T51, as his visor was covered in beads. The helmet had obscured a lot of smells due to the filter, but looking around he could only imagine an aroma of pine and amber across the rolling fields of emerald which were surrounded by woods in a rainy but Idyllic landscape.
A sigh escaped him as he looked down; next to his duffle bag, Dogmeat's shivering form lay. The Wanderer grasped the tired Dog; holding him close to the power armor and turning on the internal heating which made the plates warm. The dog nuzzled against the armor letting out a pleased whine, while the Wanderer caressed its fur. He passed by the kevlar harness for the dog and felt its scars which while having healed still had some remnants from older battles. After Dogmeat felt a little better, the Wanderer rose to his feet and looked over the horizon with a faint smile.
The rain had stopped and as the sun pierced through the clouds a rainbow was strawn across the sky.
He glanced back down at Dogmeat who was wagging his tail, ready to move on. A chuckle escaped the Wanderer and he grasped the duffle bag, Ol Painless strapped to his back with the Terrible Shotgun, and the Shishkebab sheathed into his hip.
It's been hours since they had departed from the tunnels, making their way towards a trail in the woods. The white contrasted against the green as he stomped past foliage and other greenery. 'Let's go sunning' was playing on his pip-boy while Dogmeat happily trudged next to him. He was surrounded by a lukewarm shine from the rays that pierced through the tree line, the Pines leaving more light into their domain. Birds chirped in the wild while he still felt and heard some droplets from the earlier rain crash against the ground and his armor. The ground was covered in a layer of dried needles, the orange-brown contrasting against the jade of the pines.
To the side of the path were bearberry bushes and a few pale woodland asters sprinkled across, like a painter had wiped his bush a few times against his canvas.
Ol Painless was up; though the Wanderer was more relaxed than in the wastes he still kept his eyes up. Grimm were a nasty bunch even if they were easier to deal with than Deathclaws, Muties, or Robots. Lot dumber too, though he did see a few outliers at times. Regardless, the general atmosphere of the peaceful nature and relaxing music did wonders to calm his nerves. Hell, he was surprised he didn't feel as paranoid in the woods as he used to be; guess hanging there long enough made him face his fears to a degree. Though one should not mistake his calmer demeanor for inattentiveness. He was still focused, his eyes darting at every breaking twig, every droplet, and every shadow. However, he felt more in control. If he were ambushed he'd know immediately, and he'd deal with it swiftly.
As though fate mocked him, Dogmeat's cheery demeanor changed and his ears and tail straighten. Taking notice of his hound's sudden stillness, the Wanderer smacked his lips and continued walking as though nothing was wrong, Ignoring the Dog's growls. He kept on walking, the pip-boy finishing the song and going to Wonderful Guy. The birds still chirped and danced through the air as the peaceful charade of an ambiance continued. Soon he could make out sounds himself, twigs snapping, some distant shouts, and foilage breaking.
A sigh escaped him as he heard it all to his left side, on a more hilly area. They weren't even trying to mask their approach, so the chances of it being a planned ambush were low. He continued to walk, steady for any sort of nonsense.
A figure burst through the side, small and lanky.
The Wanderer turned; his finger on the trigger but not pulled.
His eyes focused as he saw what it was.
A little girl; probably 9 or 10 if he had to estimate, very skinny, beaten, and wearing some sort of rag for clothes. Tears were running down her face and like a doe caught in headlights she froze upon seeing his form and muttered.
Two more forms shot out of the bushes, taller, uniformed, and armed.
"Got ya now ya lil sh-"
The two stopped, gazing at the towering form looming at the trio with a rifle. Blue eyes narrowed at the two uniformed goons; white vest, black hood, and white upper mask. One had a small pair of antlers on top of his head and the other had a tail of sorts; like a rat. The first one had a sword and the other a cheap-looking pistol.
"Ah fuck me-" the Rat began only for the Wanderer unloaded two rounds into him, the first breaking the guy's aura and the second catching the fucker in the shoulder. The Second let out a yell and aimed at the Wanderer before shooting at him. The 9mm dust rounds simply bounced off the T51-F power armor as the Wanderer strode over to the Antler guy and smashed his rifle against his head. The mask cracked and so did one of the Antlers which caused the guy to howl. The Wanderer stomped forward and grabbed the broken horn before beginning to beat him with it.
These two armed bastards were chasing a starving and injured girl: he had enough context to fill in the blanks.
More screams filled the air as the jagged piece of bone was hit over the guy's skull over and over again, each hit making it look less like a face and more like a bloodied piece of steak. Once the deer faunus ceased moving the Wanderer rose back and glared at the Rat who was leaving a trail of yellow between his legs.
"H-Hey please man I-"
"Dogmeat." The Wanderer called. "Have a snack."
He turned back leaving his hound to maul the rat and ignore the screams; after all rat was Dogmeat's favorite food…
The Girl was trembling, looking at the towering, power-armored Wanderer. She fell to her back and stuttered, still crying. A peng of guilt filled the Wanderer's mind; probably shouldn't have brutalized the two scumbags in front of her. The extra trauma was probably not necessary for her.
"Hey hey it's okay." The Wanderer went down to one knee, his gun strapped to his back. "You're safe now."
Unfortunately for him, she began to cry louder.
Dandy.
He put his bag down and pulled out a chocolate bar, which he handed to her. The girl eyed the bar, shaking eyes glued to the packed sweet. He placed the bar and bottle down next to her and rose back to his feet.
"Take your time and enjoy the food girl."
He turned back towards Dogmeat who just finished the assailant off by tearing the guy's throat out. Swallowing the neck veins down, the Dog's snarls calmed down and the second he saw the Wanderer, his eyes were like a happy pup again. A chuckle escaped the Wanderer who gently pet the dog's head while looking down at the corpse.
Half of the face had been torn off by Dogmeat, so the neck bite had been mercy at this point. Patting the corpse down, he pulled a few clips, a wallet, and a Scroll. Taking the money he looked at the ID of the guy he just iced.
Brent Furisan
The card was flicked off and the wallet was dropped like trash as he glanced down the Scroll. As he flipped it open his eyes narrowed upon the locked screen. Using his pip-boy interface he sent out a signal into the Scroll and began to hack it. A few seconds later the password was revealed and he opened the Scroll up. He skimmed through some of the information; things mentioning the "White Fang", "Faunus Rights", "Fall of Beacon" and an individual named "Adam."
Browse furrowed he stood back up and put the Scroll into one of his satchels; might check for more info later.
He turned back towards the girl who now sat in her corner munching on the bar, the bottle of water empty. Her lavender eyes turned to him and she stopped mid-bite, shrinking again. Again he went down to one knee, making himself as least threatening as possible.
"It's alright kid, they're not gonna hurt you again." He began. "They will never hurt anyone again."
"I…" Her frame shivered. "You're really not gonna hurt me."
"Fingers crossed kid."
"Really?"
"Really." His visor regarded her. "In fact where are your parents? I can bring them to you if you want."
"I would like that but…" she looked away, rubbing her arm. "The others."
"What 'others' kid?"
"The other kids who got captured by the White Fang!" She yelled all of a sudden. "They've taken us from Pokke village! Said they'll kill us all if we didn't comply and that if we did that they would bring us back home, eventually."
Her little fists were shaking.
"But it's a lie! They are making us work in mines for dust! Those that don't work get beaten and some of us have gotten sick. I tried to flee, but two of them saw me and have been chasing me! But now I can't just go home! They'll find out I left and kill mom and dad! And it's all my fault!"
The child broke down again, as a chilled aura surrounded the Wanderer. Dogmeat whined as he noticed his master's posture; unmoving, frozen, and furious. The Wanderer rose back up and gently pushed the girl into a hug.
Her crying stopped for a second as she looked into his visor, feeling the cold rage coming off the power-armored behemoth.
"If that is the case then you have nothing to worry about."
His hand went to the bag and he pulled out a rifle, much to the Girl's shock. He grabbed it with one hand letting the rays pass the trees and shine upon it. The rifle description was clear; serial number 6, with a 44 caliber receiver; forged steel, wooden stock, engraved gold mounting with floral design and "Lincoln/ President/U.S.A." on the right side and the top of the barrel was stamped "Henry's Patent Oct. 16, 1860/Manufactured New Haven Arms Company New Haven, Ct."
"Because we're freeing them."
A chilled wind flowed down the craved diorite halls, uneven rocks jutting while having bits and pieces of dust popping out between the minerals and dripping ceiling. A Musty and earthy smell flowed into the noses of the individuals who were both guarding and working inside the cavernous area. Pickaxes crashing against stones, the rattling of chains, and the shouting of the guards made the children work harder, hollow eyes staring at the rocks they were picking at.
One of the children after picking too harshly fell down, breathing heavily as sweat poured down his whole body. A White Fang guard loomed over the exhausted child and kicked him to the side.
"Get back up human!" The gun was pointed at the kid. "You're not here to relax!"
"Y-Yes, sir." The kid wiped a tear off his face and regardless of his own exhaustion, returned to work.
From a higher elevation, Bane watched, nodding.
Things were going well for the Fang; The attack on Beacon had been a success, Sienna had been disposed off and soon Adam said they would take care of Haven. Bane Shaw turned back towards the elevator lift he had arrived from. Looking at his scroll he gazed at the time, 18:33, and turned towards the guard next to it.
"Give the lil shits two more hours and then bring em to the pens with a bit of leftover food and water."
"Yes, Sir."
Personally, he couldn't give a rat's ass about those kids, but he needed them for Adam's plan. As he stepped into the lift, he pressed the button, growling at the faded SDC logo etched into the button. Metal screeched and the lift went up while he was left alone with his thoughts.
After Beacon, he had been told to gather in Mistral and take over an abandoned mine in central Anima. Place used to belong to those Schnee bastards but apparently both Bandit raids, its Isolation, and the local Grimm had been too troublesome and it was abandoned.
For the Fang it had been as though they struck gold; the Dust there had been left untouched, probably due to having needed to flee from one of the attacks. The Isolation from the main city was perfect for them as they didn't want anyone snooping around, while still being close to some of the towns in the region. The Bandits wouldn't be too much of a problem as long as they bribed them off, though last he checked his scouts told him the Branwen had been retreating from something.
As for the Grimm; they were a nuisance but they weren't as active and manageable compared to also getting harassed by both them and the Bandits.
A ping brought Bane back to reality as the elevator arrived top side.
He exited the elevator and stepped into the refinery, watching as both Fang workers and children maintained things through the tube-infested steel building. He passed several of them before leaving the building. Gazing upon the sun setting over the base, he passed the forest and buildings. The complex was surrounded by a large chain-link fence protected with barbed wire and armed watchtowers. The inside consisted of the refinery and mine access at the north of it, while next to it were the barracks and the pens where they kept the slaves.
South of that was a building that served both as a cafeteria and lounge for when the troops were on break, and next to it a storage building-turned-armory. Finally at its center was a bullhead landing pad; with an old one, they stole from Beacon ready to fly in case of trouble. With a chuckle he marched towards the barracks; had to check some emails from Adam and the Albin brothers while checking on the numbers they made here. Each step he took was noticed by his brothers and sisters who nodded and saluted him when they passed by.
He entered the old building and went up the metal stairs towards his office/quarter, his feet causing the metal to reverberate. As he made it to the top he marched towards the left marked as "Management". Entering he sighed as he pulled his mask off and threw it onto his bed. Finally, he didn't have to show his shame as the burn scars from so long ago were exposed. Laying his weapon next to the office table, he went towards his mini-fridge and pulled out a can of lemon soda. Settling down into his office seat, he took a large gulp of the beverage as he opened his computer and looked at the newest message Adam left him. Opening it a twinkle sprang in his amber eyes and a grin with bear-like canines formed.
According to the Boss, things were going swell on his side; the only issue is his old flame stirring trouble in Menagerie, but he already had people taking care of that little problem.
All that was left was to get enough dust from the mines so they could arm the troops for the Attack on Haven. Once the Quota is reached they are to cut off their losses; Kill the children and wipe out the villages where they had taken them out; no loose ends can be traced back to them.
He hated humans; growing up in the outskirts of Solitas under the thumb of the SDC was hell; the conditions in the mines were terrible, the workers were mistreated and rations were cheap and small causing a lot of malnourishment in the mining settlements. When his Pops died in a cave-in and his mom to the disease he left, wandering Remnant alone until he Joined the Fang. He was given purpose and a path where he would no longer be oppressed. Where the Faunus would rise above their oppressors as the true heirs of Remnant!
And with the Success of Beacon, things looked good.
The Fang was feared by many and with communications down the chances of them taking over a Kingdom were not just greatly risen but even a possibility.
However even he had to admit that child labor was…Iffy.
Pulling out a paper he looked over the numbers, humming to himself. Originally his brothers and sisters were gonna work in the mines to get the dust and then refine it, however, due to the increase in Grimm in the region he felt that every hand working could be a hand holding a rifle. So after discussing the plans they came up with the plan to get workers from some of the nearby villages; force them to do labor. With their plant at Haven having been sending huntsmen on suicide missions and the CCT making communications to the kingdoms hard, he and the Fang could easily take over a few of the places around and kidnap a few people.
The only issue came at the risk of the people fighting back; a lot more people had an aura and lived on the frontier since they have some experience fighting off Grimm even as a farmer. So there was always a risk they'd try to break free and cause all sorts of problems. However then one of them suggested the kids; children are weak, scared, and easily intimidated; kidnap a bunch of them, blackmail the villages into compliance by using their kids as a bargaining chip and also tell them to send supplies such as food and water to their base. Meanwhile, get the kids into working in the mines and then harvest the benefits.
Some might say it's despicable; he thinks it's Justice.
Sure he had his doubts; the kids and villages weren't those who had sent him and his family working into the mines back in Solitas all those years ago. But by destiny they were the ones who would suffer the consequences of inaction, that was the way of the world. Besides, he gave them reasonable times; from 8 pm till 6 am they could rest and eat while the rest of the day they got to work. It's more than the SDC bastards gave him with their night shifts and lack of breaks.
Still, things were progressing well; production was up and they only lost two of the kids to exhaustion; of course, if the villages asked they would tell them that the kids were just fine.
After all, once they exhausted their use they'd all be reunited, six feet under.
Which was why it was important that non of the kids' fleed; after all, if they manage to get words back to the villages, the spiel would be up and the villagers might try something. And he'd rather not waste the free labor; they were on a timetable, one that would lead all of faunus kind to be the true harbingers of the World. As for the Faunus kids they also manage to capture; if they were broken from the labor and they survive until the attack they might be indoctrinated into the Fang; after all, their traitor parents didn't help them the cause so now the burden has fallen on their child.
A burden and price that needs to be paid in the blood of humans.
Bane glanced out of the window, frowning; when were those two idiots gonna come back?
Gulls cried across the sky as the ship cruised through the same colored ocean. The sun had been up for a while but the salty morning wind had begun to faintly pass from the east. The deck had started filling up since it was connected with the restaurant and there were a few tables on the outside.
Though most people had preferred to stay on the inside, closer to the buffet, Yang leaned onto her seat, still, in the clothing, she had worn when she woke up. Apparently, she had woken up around 4 am and had been spending the past few hours just walking around the ship.
She had even gone down to the storage to check over her bike, though there hadn't been anything wrong with it. With Bumblebee in good condition, she marched towards the deck and just spend her morning gazing at the ocean.
The weather was fair enough, no big waves so no accidents like on the first day of her arrival. Still despite the distant sound of the motor, her mind was starting to feel more at ease. She certainly felt better than she did months ago.
Still, she'd be lying if she didn't admit that there weren't rain clouds around her mind; dulling her view and wrenching at her soul. She looked at her right hand, letting the mechanical fingers move. Though she had gotten used to her arm, she sometimes still felt phantom pains when she slept. A burning sensation at where her arm had been lopped off.
"Ready to take your order?" A rather cheery voice spoke next to her. Her illac eyes turned to the Waiter; seemed to be in his mid-20s, with bushy hair brown hair, and green eyes. Her dazed look was shaken out and she looked at the breakfast card. Her eyes darted over some of the sweeter treats, though she knew she'd have to burn the calories later on today. "I'll take the French Toast and a Coffe, please." She gave the waiter a polite smile, who returned it and nodded before vanishing back towards the kitchens. Placing the menu back down she looked around the deck at the other guests. Though communications between the four nations had been cut since Beacon, everyone looked…happy.
They looked careless, ignorant in a way, and she wasn't sure if that's because they don't want to attract the Grimm or because they feel as though current events aren't affecting them. In a way it made her wonder is she had been like this a year ago…
Thinking back, she had been…a bit of a rough kid now that she thought about it. She went to parties regularly prior to being stuck with team RWBY, took everything in a stride, and tried to ignore all the complicated things in life. But back then things also seemed simpler. She wanted to be a Huntress for the Adventure, to go kick Grimm ass, fight bad guys, save lives, and get paid for being awesome. Travel the world on her bike and see sights, flex her muscles a few times to impress the gents and gals, and generally live a cool life, and find her mom.
Beacon showed her that these things are a fantasy.
Seeing the Grimm and White Fang killing people indiscriminately reminded her of the one thing she had forgotten; that being a Huntress is a responsibility. In a way it was ironic; she had gotten so used to fighting the Grimm that she had almost forgotten that they are monsters hellbent on the destruction of life itself. She had been so used to people having Aura, that seeing a few White Fang goons open fire on a crowd of people, the blood spilling had caught her off guard.
Hell, she had gotten used to fighting Roman Torchwick who felt less like an enemy but a 'frenemy'. that when Adam threaten to murder Blake sh-
Blake.
…
That one still stung.
Regardless, at the end of the day, there was one thing that made her the most fidgety about the whole situation; the consequences. Who were the people who organized all this? What was their goal? Was Ruby okay? Would the White Fang strike again? Would Adam be here? Where was Blake? Would her Dad be safe?
And why did her Mom appear on the train…
As she looked back at the people on the deck, she realized; she missed her ignorance.
Even though the Wanderer hadn't been that long on Remnant, he had paid attention to some of the big players on the planet. From the flying Kingdom of Atlas to the dunes of Vacuo, he tried to keep track of the most important groups that he could gather a modicum of information. Such as the Schnee Company being this world's equivalent of Vault-tec, just without the horrific experiments and instead, labor law violations up the wazoo. Or the "Spider" which was the largest crime family in Mistral, and who were next on his shit-list after he wiped the floor with the Branwen twats.
The White Fang had been a group that reminded him too much of a certain asshole he met back in the Wastes. Roy Phillips was living proof that some people just deserve a bullet through their skulls.
It's a series of events we would never forget as the blood that had been shed, eventually stuck to his hands, and all because he had been a tad too naive. When he arrived at Tenpenny Tower for the first time, he had been surprised at how bigoted the local population had been to ghouls. From what he understood, a lot of the people living there had been descendants of former Vault Dwellers from Vault 76 and Vault 84 or Water Barons from further west, who had amassed a fortune and spend their time in the secured tower. However, a lot were also former Mercs, Adventures or Scavengers with a modicum of Manners who had the caps to live there.
Still, the blatant racism he had witnessed when they didn't let Roy into the Tower had disgusted him at the time. He understood that Ghouls were technically a ticking timebomb of going feral, but he also knew a lot of them were pretty much just suckers who took one too many rads and began peeling…something he can relate now somewhat.
Regardless when Gustavo sent him to go murder the Ghouls, he instead tried to negotiate with both parties; help the ghouls get into Tenpenny without bloodshed, educate the bigots and maybe give a rather snobbish community a new life. Sure it would take a long time for both parties to see eye to eye, and both groups would have to put some effort into it, but that was something he hoped he could establish.
So after coming back a week later, it turns out Roy had all the Humans rounded up and killed.
In a way he should have seen it coming; every time he had talked with Roy, that fuckin rat bastard insulted him at every turn, even when he was as polite as possible. When he found the bodies and asked him why he did it, Roy's reply would haunt him for the rest of his life.
"They had it coming. In fact, I don't have to justify myself to you or any other smooth skin. In fact, you best piss off unless you wanna join em."
There was no shame, a hint of regret in his voice; only pride.
After all the work he had done to smooth things over for both parties, after all the time he spend convincing people to help in the endeavor and keep things from escalating, this fucker blows it all.
The thing is even after he had found the bodies, he had been willing to give Roy the benefit of a doubt; maybe Tenpenny suddenly changed his mind and wanted them all killed, or maybe Gustavo tried to get them arrested for bullshit reasons. It was possible and as much as it would have hurt to admit, he would have at least understood if they then 'cleaned house' out of defense. But then that would still not explain why they would have killed, people like Hawthorne, Dr Banefield, and Herbert "Daring" Dashwood; their biggest supporters.
But no, that wasn't the case.
Roy Phillips was a Bigot; a Human Bigot.
Maybe it was all the years of being harassed and mistreated, maybe the whole 'ghouls become more feral with age' thing rings through, but at the end of the day, that bastard didn't just cross a line he should have, but betrayed the Lone Wanderer's trust, spat on his goodwill and finally had the gall to threaten him.
And the worst part? A majority of the Ghouls in Tenpenny had joined in on the lynching.
While finding the corpses of bastards like Gustavo and Tenpenny had been neat, he still felt as though the rest of the people didn't deserve such a fate.
And so he killed them.
He wiped the tower off like a raider hideout and left it all for the radroaches to clear. Of course, a week later he hears a report from Three-Dog about how he 'killed the poor innocent ghouls", and that had caused him to b-line towards Galaxy News Radio.
The Kid from 101 loved Three Dog, but on that day the disc jockey had pissed off the wrong guy.
So he stormed inside the building, scaring and confusing the Paladins and Knights guarding it, and entered his office. An hour later, Three Dog made a live interview with him, in which the Wanderer explained what actually happened. Regardless of how pissed he had been at Three-Dog when the man heard about Herbert's death, the Wanderer saw something die inside the Disc Jockey and felt nothing but sympathy. Regardless with things cleared up, he left a message to every Ghoul in the wastes.
" I do not discriminate against Ghouls or Humans. That however means I also don't discriminate if you're a Human Raider or a Ghoul Raider. If you're a piece of shit, ghoul or not I'm putting a bullet through your skull."
After that Three-Dog played a marathon of the adventures of Herbert "Daring" Dashwood, for the rest of the evening in honor of Herbert.
This event had thought him a valuable lesson; that just having good intentions, doesn't make you a good person.
What is fighting for Freedom and Unity even worth it when one rapes the women, burns the children, and tortures the enemy?
In comes the White Fang; once a peaceful movement against Faunus oppression turned into a violent terror organization. Ironically he originally wasn't sure if he wanted to go after them; because while he had heard about how they had caused the "Fall of Beacon" and how they had been violent, he hadn't gotten the full picture from other sources.
However, after hearing about the fact that these bastards captured an entire village of children and enslaved them, he made up his mind. As he walked behind the girl who was leading him towards the old refinery, he looked down at the Henery Rifle; the same weapon President Lincoln used to once Liberate the Slaves from the Confederates as he had used it to liberate the slaves from Paradise Falls and the Pitt.
Lincoln once said, "Those who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves, and, under a just God, cannot long retain it."
God willing; the White Fang will be dealt with.
After a few more minutes of marching, they finally arrived at the edge of the woods facing the entire structure. Chain fence, watchtowers, several buildings, and armed guards all over the place; reminded him of Fort Bannister in a way, just the fact that here troops here lacked combat armor and missile launchers.
Hell, he was surprised at the fact that these goons had no machine gun nests or snipers on their watchtowers; just some guards with Assault Rifles…
"How many are there inside, kid?" the Wanderer turned to the child.
"Around 40 I think…couldn't count them all, but they seemed a lot…"
"Alright…" the Wanderer hummed and looked around for a few seconds before turning back to her. "How did you escape before?"
"There was this small part in the pens; managed to crawl under it and run."
"I see…" He nodded. "I want you to go back there and tell the other kids to get ready."
"Are you gonna sneak in?" She looked up at him and her eyes narrowed slightly. "But your armor is white and big! They'll see you!"
A cold chuckle escaped from the Wanderer.
"That's the point."
Mazon Sugg, groaned as he cracked his neck; he hated guard duty.
It was already late, and due to his shift with the little crotch goblins in the mine, he didn't get to eat dinner. And now his co gave him an extra guard duty shift; why? Because the bastard is lazy. Now here he was, staring forward into the darkness, bored out of his mind. Couldn't even go and read a book, noooo "eyes forward" his co kept bitching on about. When he joined the Fang it was to get revenge on his boss back at the SDC, not exchange one asshole with another.
Eh, at least he got to kill some of the schiznos from time to time; fuckin humans man…
As his hand was about to go towards his crotch to itch, a sound from the woods caused him to look back up and aim his gun in a panic. What he mistook for a second for some growl or howl turned out to be a sort of tune…
In fact, it sounded like old music he heard from his grandpa, play from the phonograph he had; old and somewhat distorted from the old-timey recording. As he gazed in the direction from which the music came from, his balls shrunk. Seven-foot tall, covered head to toe in massive plates colored like snow, though somewhat rusted and dirty from what he could only guess from previous battles. Each step shook the floor and accompanied his slow march, as they held some old, ornate rifle in their hand.
Was that an Atleasian robot?!
Mazon raised his rifle up. Several of the watchtowers noticed the newcomer too and had turned towards the gate, sounding the alarm to others.
"Hold it right there!" Sugg shouted as the figure didn't stop marching forward in his stride. "We don't take kindly to-"
Mazon's world went dark as a 44 magnum round was hip-fired right through the skull, turning everything above the Faunus' neck into gore. Several of the guards on the tower opened fire on their aggressor only for the shots to deflect off the plate.
Boo! I'm the Boogie Man
The terrible, horrible Boogie Man
I come in the middle of the night and frighten, bad little girls like you.
The Wastelander strode towards the gate and with a mighty punch, the chain gate broke down and the Wanderer entered, ignoring the gunshots, pelting his armor. A few more guards rushed forward and unloaded an entire mag into his chest, only scratching the already faded and scratched Brotherhood symbol. "What the hell are you!" The White Fang goon dropped his gun and pulled out a dagger which he went for a stab at the Wanderer. The Wastelander however despite being in a heavy suit of armor showed incredible speed as he grabbed the attacker's arm before the dagger could even graze him.
"I am Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End," The Lone Wanderer replied before using his strength to rip the terrorist's arm off. The White Fang goon fell to the ground and screamed, causing most of the others to stop shooting as they just witnessed some "robot-looking motherfucker" rip Tony's arm off.
The Wanderer's boot was raised and silenced the White Fang soldier with a proper stomp.
"I will give unto him that is athirst of the fountain of the water of life, freely." The Wasteland Savior finished as he glared at the other dozen or so terrorists, stunning them further. No one said another word for a few seconds, even if it felt like hours to most of them.
The tension was then cut when the nearest guard aimed his shotgun at the Wanderer.
"Hey man, fuck you!"
He pulled the trigger and a 20 gauge blast slammed into the Wanderer's side, leaving a few small scorch marks. The Wanderer returned fire and left a hole into the shotgunner's chest. Several went back to shooting at the newcomer, hiding behind cover, unloading all of their ammo. Just like the rest of them, the rounds were barely doing anything as he pulled out a plasma grande from a pouch and threw it at the biggest cluster of hostiles. As the grenade landed, a wave of green exploded, turning ten of the bastards either into a pile of green goo, scorched corpses, or tearing their bodies apart with green flames tickling their limbs.
"BACK TO THE REFINERY! BACK TO THE RE-" One of the survivors shouted only for another round of Lincoln's rifle to slam through the bastard's throat. As they were running, the Wastelander started to take out the runners, only stopping to reload the rifle. With a pull of the lever, the aim was taken again and another Fang bit the dust. With all of the bastards in the courtyard dead, the Vault Dweller jogged towards the refinery, where the last of the White Fang rushed inside and they closed the heavy steel gates. He knocked a few times on it, to test its thickness.
"Open up. Don't try to flee; it's not safe."
He could hear a few mutters inside the building but ignored them as he pulled back his fist. The first punch, caused everyone inside to yell in surprise. The second punch caused a dent in the door, shaped like his fist. With the third punch, he heard everyone yelling and moving. Fourth punch, he felt the gate shudder, and weaken. In the fifth punch, several guns were crocked ready to unleash hell.
Then one last punch and the gate fell apart. Causing the dust cloud to rise, obscuring his form except for a silhouette that was illuminated by the broken moon.
"GET HIM!"
Everyone inside the room unloaded their clips into the figure. Though they couldn't see it, thousands of pings and pangs were clearly hitting the mighty plates like rain on a steel roof. Rifles, pistols, shotguns, and SMG at the same time, like a tide of lead and dust. Ice, fire, and lighting slammed into where he was supposed to be, causing the cloud the become a rainbow fog as the elements clashed against one another.
A few seconds later, everyone was out of ammo, staring at the massive fog covering the door with jittery hands.
"Did we get him?" One asked, sweat pouring down his face.
As though on cue, a large footstep caused everyone to jump, as the Wanderer stepped out of the fog; armor slightly dented and scorched but not pierced.
"That tickled."
The Wanderer aimed and took another head off.
One of the bastards dropped his gun and tried to run for it, but another shot from the repeater stopped that. Though they were unarmed and several surrendered, no mercy would be shown.
They kidnapped children and made them into slaves; sometimes justice is simple like that.
I mean, is it REALLY hard to not enslave kids?!
Some of the bastards tried to attack him with blades, but they were of no use, breaking against his T51 armor. A smack from the back of the Repeater tended to finish things off for them. A small group of assholes tried to hide in one corner behind some boxes, but the Wastelander finished it by pulling out an AN-205M incendiary grenade and throwing it at the pile. As it exploded, the screaming and howling of the people were ignored as he noticed not just some of the machinery getting destroyed but the wooden foundation of the building shaking and spreading the fire. Feeling like his work was done, the Wanderer turned towards the exit.
That is until he heard the roar of a chainsaw.
A massive figure crashed through the fog, rushing at him as something was swung with much might. The left arm was raised and sparks flew as the power armor kept the chainsaw from cutting through. With a grunt, the Wanderer pushed back and the attacker fell backward, onto a stack of boxes. Looking at his arm, the Wanderer growled as he noticed that the Chainsaw had actually managed to damage the plate somewhat.
Annoying; he'll have to patch that up later.
Turning back at the rising White Fang, he noticed how much different he was; Body of a greek god, height almost the same as power armor, and a full-face ceramic mask. If he had to guess this guy was the head honcho of this operation, or at the very least, this specific group.
"Bastard…" The White Fang leader rose back up, grabbing his Chainsaw. "Come here killing my men, in some Atlas tech; typical of humans…"
"You enslaved kids." The Wanderer pointed out. "I don't care about the politics of your movement; that's just something you don't do."
"Pff, I don't have to justify myself to you." He began circling the Wastelander, eyes waiting for a good angle to strike. "Especially to some prissy human hiding behind some mecha suit."
"But I love my armor." the Vault Dweller chuckled. "Besides, no aura."
The figure stopped, staring at the Wanderer. For a few seconds, he said nothing before laughing.
"Well, that makes it worse."
"How so?"
"Because you're a fraud!" The Leader bellowed. "All of my men trained and earned their weapons, even without Aura. I'm not a huntsman but I earned my own Aura and learned to master my weapon. You on the other hand? You just got a fancy suit and are acting like you're unstoppable. I bet you're nothing without it; just some punk in metal plates…"
The Wanderer's head was tilted as he glanced at the Faunus; the Man did have a point…in a way. He hadn't taken off his suit for a while, mostly since he was too busy hunting down the Branwen. However, he'd be lying if he didn't wonder if he had become dependent on it or not.
He wasn't sure, but he wouldn't know unless he tried it.
"If that's the case, then how about a deal." The Dweller put the rifle away. "I'm gonna take off the suit; No power armor, no guns, no weapons. Just me and my fists."
The Faunus cackled.
"Arrogant are we now?!" He could feel the grin from behind the bastard's mask. "And what makes you think I'll bite?"
"I could still fight you in the suit; will just make things quicker for me." His hands were lowered but ready to rise back up. "Honestly doesn't change the inevitable for you."
"What Inevitable?"
"That you're gonna die." The Wastelander cracked his mechanic knuckles.
Another laugh erupted from the White Fang boss before he looked back up.
"Fine then." The Faunus let his weapon hang from his shoulder. "I'm gonna look forward to sending your head back to Atlas."
The Lone Wanderer nodded and with one command, the back of the armor opened up. The Wanderer stepped out of the suit and though his herculean body was visible from the tight vault suit, the armor pieces over it were covering it slightly. The Wanderer's combat helmet had been in his bag so his face had been exposed to the world causing the Faunus to laugh again.
"You look like shit!" The Leader loomed over the Wanderer, an aura of malice surrounding him. "And I thought my scars were ugly. Let me guess; your mom threw you in the incinerator at birth."
"Something like that…" Was the chilled reply of the Wanderer.
"You fucking Idiot." The Faunus gripped his chainsaw again, letting it roar a few times. "You should have stayed in your comfy suit. Now you're going to die, alone in the middle of nowhere."
"Possibly…but I doubt it." The Wanderer took a combat stance and kept his eyes on his enemy, as the refinery's interior became more orange from the flames. "Got a name?"
"Bane." the Faunus grinned. "Bane Shaw."
And so he attacked.
Bane let out a howl as he swung his chainsaw at the Wanderer, missing him as the Dweller ducked under the swing. The Wanderer followed up with a kick to the chest causing Bane to get stunned slightly. A backhand smacked into the Wastelander and tossed him into a few rusted barrels. Grunting, he rose back to his feet seeing the Faunus rush at him again with a mad cackle.
The Wanderer briefly glanced at the barrels and smirked.
He stood there, waiting for the Faunus to close the distance and as the saw was swung again, he dodged to the side, just in time for Bane to cut into the barrels. More sparks flew and the Vault Dweller actually ran off towards some of the machinery as Bane growled to pull his chainsaw out.
"COWARD!" The Faunus yelled only for him to look at the barrels again and widened his eyes as he gazed upon the Fire dust symbol etched into it. The barrels exploded in a shower of flames and Shaw was tossed towards a wall, as his Aura flickered and his chainsaw was scorched.
Rising to his feet he spotted the 101 waiting by the machinery in the same fighting stance as before.
"You think you're so clever huh?" Bane stomped forward. "I'm still standing, fucker."
"That remains to be seen," The Wastelander answered.
Bane went for a swing of the Chainsaw and only managed to cut a few of the metal spikes stuck on the Wanderer's left shoulder plate as he side-stepped the attack again. The Wanderer, in return, sent a hook to Bane's hip, not shattering the Aura but putting the Faunus out of balance. With a snarl, Bane turned towards the Wastelander and raised his saw over his head, before bringing it down. The Wanderer rolled out of the way, letting Bane's weapon strike the machinery. As the Blade got stuck between the gears and piston. Alarms blared from the generator as the weapon broke apart.
A smaller explosion from a control penal stuck Shaw, causing his Aura to flare again. Wiping some of the grime off him, he turned towards the smirking Wanderer.
"I'm going to break you…" Bane muttered.
Though unarmed, the Faunus ran at the Wanderer and went for a left hook, which the Wastelander blocked. What he didn't manage to block however was the right hook from Bane which crashed against the Wanderer's face and caused him to fall backward. Bane then kicked the Vault Dweller in the stomach, though luckily the combat armor took most of the blow as the Wanderer was turned onto his back. Bane raised his foot and went for a stomp, aiming at the Wanderer's head.
Fortunately, the Wanderer rolled out of the way and tried to get back up. This was however not to be, as Shaw grabbed the Wanderer by the back and slammed him into a nearby metal container. As the Wanderer crashed against the box Bane laughed, ran forward, and pulled his arm back. The Wanderer saw what was coming and dodged to the side, as Bane's fist crashed against the steel. The White Fang Lieutenant yelled and clutched his injured hand, while the Wanderer used all his force to kick Bane in the shin, causing the Faunus to drop backward.
The Wanderer rose back to his feet and let out a groan. The aura was shielding the Terrorist too much; His kick would have normally broken a normal person's shin by the sheer force behind it.
He'd have to find a way to break it; and fast.
Scanning around the burning building, an idea popped in his mind when his eyes wandered close to the pipes. Seeing Bane slowly getting up, the Vault boy ran towards the pipe maze. Shaw growled and rose up, before running behind the Wastelander. As the Faunus began to catch up, the Wanderer mid-run, went low and slid under a large pipe that Bane had not seen before. The large Faunus slammed into the pipe and broke it, yelling as hot steam sprayed all over his body, causing his Aura to flare all over the place. The steam began to obscure bane's vision as he swung wildly trying to keep his aura up and ignoring the pain.
"WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU HIDING!"
The Wanderer's answer came in the form of a fist crashing against Bane's face with such force that the Aura finally broke and left a massive crack on the mask. The Faunus clutched his face, blood pouring out of his nose as he frantically looked around, the Wanderer having vanished in the steam. Then another hit came from behind him, crashing at the back of his head.
Then another to his side.
And an uppercut to the jaw.
More and more hits came from each direction, his enemy invisible, and yet hitting like a truck. However the steam slowly had begun to lessen, and though Bane's aura was out, he himself wasn't. His vision had a slight blur to it, yet in the corner of his eyes, he spotted a familiar shadow rushing him.
A smirk formed beneath his mask as he knew for a fact where his enemy would strike next.
101 rushed from the mist only for Bane to turn towards him and send his own punch at the Wanderer. Bane had put all of his power into it, even without Aura, and used his heritage strength to his advantage, The sound of the punch was sickening, as the Wanderer halted mid-step, his head turned to the direction where the punch had sent it.
There he stood for a few seconds unmoving, while Bane smirked beneath his mask.
Then the Wanderer's head turned towards Bane, and the Wastelander grinned. The punch had given the scarred face a bruise as the smile was covered in blood. Something about the literal bloody smile and glare he was giving him, made the Faunus's own smirk falter.
"Thank you." 101 responded.
Then the Lone Wanderer's turn came.
The Wanderer spat his blood from his mouth at Bane's mask, distracting the Faunus. Bane sent a panicked jab which the Wanderer managed to block and counter with a punch to the stomach. The strength behind it, caused Bane's dinner to spill past the blood and mask and for the Faunus to double over. The Vault Dweller then followed up with a mighty kick to the masked face, breaking the mask apart and sending Shaw sprawling. Coughing, Bane looked back up, blood dripping from the nose and mouth, alongside saliva and vomitus. His face was red; both from the old burn marks of ages past and the steam having burnt his skin. With blood-shot eyes, he rose back on his feet and let out a mad cry as he swung at the Wanderer again.
101 caught the fist and twisted Bane's arm to such a degree that an ugly crack rang out. Bane howled as his hand felt useless and he clutched it. The Wanderer followed up with a kick to the left side that caused Shaw to scream out again as he felt his ribs. Breathing became harder for the Faunus as he struggled to stand, needing all of his willpower to not cash.
The Wanderer corrected that by sending a kick to Bane's right knee, snapping it in the wrong direction. Another scream echoed as Bane crashed to the ground, his screams devolving into whimpers. As he looked up at the looming Wanderer, the Faunus' eyes shrunk as the human looked closer to a demon with the flames burning behind him.
He had to get away.
Bane used his last good hand and leg to crawl in the other direction, his fingers digging into the ground as he used the last of his strength to drag his weight towards the exit. As the Faunus attempted to flee pitifully, the Wastelander tsk'd and looked around for something to finish this.
Finding a chain crane to the side, an idea formed.
With a brisk stride, the Lone Wanderer marched over the crane and pulled the hanging chain before marching towards Bane. With a mighty stomp to the back, he stopped the Terrorist on his path as he let out a pained groan. The Wanderer then took the chain and wrapped it around Bane's neck.
"W-What the hell are you doing…"
Amongst the Inferno of the refinery, the dweller walked back towards the cran and grabbed the pull button. In an instant, the chains started dragging Bane Shaw back, as the Faunus realized in horror what was going to happen.
"No no no no!"
However, it was too late and soon Bane was hanging from the chain like a noose with four feet between the ground and his feet. His face was red, his eyes were bulging and with his good arm, he was trying to free himself. As the air became tighter and his neck weaker, Bane's eyes zeroed in on the monster glaring at him.
"Bane," The Lone Wanderer spoke and stared at the hanging White Fang with a sub-zero glare. "Where you're going? Deep in that infernal pit of pain in sulfur? I want you to give a message to everyone you meet."
The Capital Crusader took a step forward, the stare was even more intense than Bane's lack of air.
"Tell them, the Lone Wanderer, send you here."
In fact, Bane could sware that the Wanderer's stare was killing him faster than the chain as his heart raced.
"Tell them that they aren't safe down there either."
The Vision became darker and the pain on his neck was close to doing the job; and yet if he would have survived, he would never forget those next words coming out of the Wanderer's mouth.
"Because when I bite the dust eventually? I'm coming back for all of you."
CRACK
"And then you better run."
The Wanderer marched towards the back of where the supposed kid's pen was. He had quickly entered the suit before the refinery could burn and left it in the main building's lounge. And just to be sure that no White Fang fucker survived and tried to sneak off with it he took the Fusion Core out just as a good measure.
As he marched towards the Pen, he stopped when he heard the familiar click of a rifle.
"S-Stop right there!" a White Fang soldier barely managed to gasp out as he aimed his rifle at the children all sitting in the pen, eyeing the goon. "If you take one more step I-I-I'll kill those kids!"
"That's an unhealthy idea." the Hero of the Wastes eyed the goon's shakey frame. "You could kill em, that's true but what saves your life after they're gone…"
"W-What…"
"Right now those kids are the only reason you're living; if they are gone then what saves you from getting some amateur surgery?"
"I'LL FUCKING KILL EM!" The White Fang grunt yelled as tears poured. "I-I'll still win! You'll lose because you failed to save the kids!"
"That may be so…" The Vault Dweller took a step forward. "But you forgot one thing…"
"W-What?"
"The Dog."
In that instant, Dogmeat jumped the Grunt from a bush, causing him to drop his gun as the hound went for his throat. The Wanderer knew that letting Dogmeat guard the girl had been a smart idea…
Ignoring the pained screams and howls, he turned to the stunned kids and opened the gate.
"Hi kids." the Wanderer went to one knee. "I'm sorry you had to see all of this; none of you deserved to experience any of this madness…"
"A-Are they all dead? " a boy asked, as he glanced in the direction where Dogmeat was mauling the grunt.
"Yes." The Wastelander answered, "And again, I'm sorry you had to see all of this happening; rest assured though that they won't ever hurt anyone else."
The children looked unsure, confused, scared, and hungry; some of them were gaunt probably from overwork. Yet non of them yelled or screamed, they only stared at the Wanderer.
"I'm- well you can call me 'The Wanderer'; your friend told me you were imprisoned here, so I came to save you."
"A-Are you gonna bring us back to Mom and Dad?" A girl asked with hope in her eyes.
The Lone Wanderer gave her a friendly smile. "You betcha I am."
When the sun rose again, the people of Pokke Village were surprised to see the familiar White Fang's Bullhead landing in the center of their village. They were even more so when their missing children rushed out of the back of the Bullhead's cargo, and returned to their families.
They were then told of how the White Fang had them working in mines; how they mistreated them, threaten them, and even wanted to kill them at some point.
They told them how a mysterious stranger in white armor rushed the compound and slaughtered the terrorists and freed them. How he brought them into the Bullhead and flew them back here. The village wanted to thank the kind stranger, and congratulate him for saving their kids with a feast and lien.
However, when they looked for the Wanderer, no one found him.
The Last sighting was from a guard who saw a man in a blue jumpsuit walking off towards where he came from; a dog at his side and the number 101 branded on his back.
For that is the way of the Lone Wanderer.
That is the path he walks.
Well this took longer than usual. Wanted to actually post yesterday but wasn't finished with proofreading. The longest chapter in the fic currently and for good reason. We get a bit of drama, another Yang appearance, and of course the long-awaited action scene. We also get to see Bane from vol 2 again! And he's dead!
Jokes aside, chapter was rather fun to write but i'd be lying if I didn't admit it was also the hardest. Wasn't sure how far I wanted to go with it but all I know is that I took a lot of inspiration from Robocop and some from the 2013 Moon Knight comic. Anyways onto the reviews!
delta4873: Funny you should ask, because there isn't a full link. I once linked it on reddit but a bunch of people bitched about me plugging my fanfic on the FNKI sub, so I'm still looking for a place to post. Probably will post it on Knowyourmeme in the crossover category, so you can try and check it out there.
nantono: Ayo
selfishgecko: There's always some light in the darkness, all it takes is personal strength to get to it and support from others.
Si Vis Pacem: Now that sounds a lot like something Elder Elijah would do my guy, "Wipe the slate clean". And thanks, I'm personally not religious so I was worried i'd fuck it up and offend someone who is, so I'm glad to see people were pleased.
Guest 1: Intresting take, and very thoughtful! I will say though that in Fallout 3 you DO deal with cosmic horror in the Dunwich quest so just keep that in mind you guys. Trust me I got some ideas over the whole thing.
ISuckM8: Thank you! and it's funny really because back in 2013/14 most fallout Fanfics were Lone Wanderer centric since Fallout 3 was the most played game at the time. When fallout 4 came out and a lot more people got into fallout a strange phenomenon happened; people began to play New Vegas a lot more and a massive boost to its popularity sparked. You'd think more people would write about the Sole Survivor since again Fallout 4 is the most played one, but because Fallout 4's story is uhhh...a dumpster fire people much preferred writing New vegas since it had the good writing from the old 1 and 2 games and the fun gameplay from 3. Still, when everyone is writing about a Courier in Elite Riot gear joining beacon it gets tiring and thats why I chose something different. Hope I don't disappoint people in the future tho!
Blaze1992: THEY ARE THE PANZER ELITE, BORN TO COMPETE, NEVER RETREAT (Ghost Division)!
holandia1103: I always found it odd how New Vegas had the "religious" weapons in the game. Fallout 3 has clear christan undertones due to Emil's Christan upbringing and the whole "Messiah", "give people the clean water" and karma system. It's not a Christian game but in 3 I felt like my Wanderer is supposed to be a sort of "Savior" of the wastes (if you go through a good karma playthrough). Still i'd also be lying if I didn't admit that I may have stolen the idea of the Wanderer yelling Bible Quotes from the fanfic "The Wanderer's Diary". While both Wanderers are VERY different normally, I kinda wanna also hammer the point that the Lone Wanderer isn't exactly in the best mental state at the current moment. However; is it fun to write a Power Armored madman with a flaming sword cutting monsters down while yelling lines from the good book? The answer is yes; it very fucking is.
Maksym1997obl: Now there's a smart guy...
Crowbars357: I'd say PRAISE REMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNN. If you get the reference, you're based.
Guest 2: Lone Wanderer at the start of Fallout 3 is 19, however, it's been a year since the events of fallout 3 so he's 20. By vol 5 most of the girls (except ruby) are probably 18 since it's been a year.
Lucky Prospector: Dunno who that is, but I'm gonna look it up since it may actually give some inspiration for the fic.
eitanrosen48: Nice, and the Wanderer does indeed kick ass in the name of the lord
LordofFlames: Sometimes the flame of the heart burns brighter than any other one. The Wanderer has seen some shit; Mutants, Genocidal Soldiers, Hillbilly Mutants, Trogs, Eldritch beings and fuckin aliens. He's fought in two wars; one after the nukes fell and one before they fell. He's fought Slavers, Raiders, Psychotic Mercs, Robots and Ghouls. And to top it all off, he's got mutations and defomrations from the Radiation inside his body; he's not gonna die so quick my friend but he is gonna suffer a lot.
Anyways next chapter is a bit shorter so it'll come out sooner than this one! Have a great day my friends!