Hi Everyone, I haven't done something like this but I'm sure you've heard the news. Jason Damron, the voice actor for The Storyteller, has passed away from cancer. I was still in the middle of writing this chapter when I heard the news of his death. I will say this, and many of you probably already know this, but thanks to The Storyteller series, I got into Fallout in the first place. It was thanks to that voice that I got invested in the World of Fallout, thanks to all the effort from the Shoddycast crew that went into the Storyteller Series, that I grew to love Fallout. I still remember how the Storyteller series made me excited for Fallout 4's release, to see the next season and what would happen to both The Storyteller and Ranger Tanner.
Alas, he wasn't the only one lost. Peter Renaday, who voiced many of the elderly characters in Fallout New Vegas such as No-Bark and Easy Pete, had passed away a few days prior.
It's been a rough week for the Fallout community.
So, Rest in Peace Jason Damron, let the stories you've told inspire many fans both new and old.
Rest in Peace Peter Renaday, thank you for providing us with some of the most unforgettable characters from any Fallout game.
Six let his eyes dance from side to side, ensuring few took notice as he strode through the streets of New Arroyo. The Trader outfit and storm chaser hat let him blend in with the rest of the prospectors wandering the streets. Few even suspected what the backpack full of scrap he was hauling around truly held. Then he stopped, glancing at the signs dotting the streets to ensure he was still on the right path. With a quick confirmation, he continued on the path, his pace growing as stalls and booths turned to homes. He passed many homes, each one he passed showing more age than the last.
Then he stopped, taking in a shaky breath as he turned to a large home a fair distance away from the rest. A dust-covered Highwayman rested in the driveway, small modifications dotting the exterior. Six approached the door, tightening his hand into a fist before he knocked on the door.
Nothing...
Six stood still, his eyes growing nervous under the goggles he wore in place of his aviators.
Then he heard footsteps from inside the house, followed by the clicking of a lock. Six stood still as the door opened and an old man peaked out. His eyes narrowed at Six before he opened the door and gestured for Six to enter. Six quickly stepped in, the door slamming shut behind him. He turned, looking the old man in the eyes as he removed the storm chaser hat and his goggles. "So, you leave on a job for years, take over a whole nation, and don't send me a single letter the entire time?" The man stated in a rather blunt manner.
"I.. got my brain scrambled by a pair of nine millimeter, spent several years with sporadic amnesia." Six explained with a guilty look.
"And what changed?" The Old Man inquired. "What brought you back here after so long?" The Old Man pushed further.
"Got my mind fixed, and now lots of things make sense." Six stated.
The Old Man's face turned from a hardened frown to a soft smile before he let out a chuckle. "Kid... you are still a handful," he stated before he began walking deeper into the house. "Come on, I had some tea boiling before you arrived, it should be ready soon." The Old Man said while gesturing for Six to follow. Six did so, shuffling the pack off of his back as he followed after the Old Man. As they reached the kitchen, Six could hear the boiling of a tea kettle just off the stove.
"I did bring a gift for you, it's something you might like." Six said as he slunk his hand into the pack. The Old Man turned back to him, a brow raised in curiosity. Six pulled out a small set of tied letters and handed it to the Old Man. The Old man looked them over, untying the letters and shuffling them to see what each held. "I remembered one of the talks we had, when you had taken me in, all the greenery across the world that had not been seen." Six said as the Old Man put the letters on the table.
"You want me to see your old home huh?" The Old Man guessed.
"If you wish too, Remnant's representatives sent invitations to see their kingdoms." Six said.
"I'll think about it, it would be a long journey and I'm an old man." The Old Man joked.
"An old man who changed the fate of the wasteland." Six commented.
"True, but give me time." The Old Man said before the kettle let out a loud hiss. "tea's ready." The Old Man said as he walked to the kettle and removed it from the stove. Six leaned back as the Old Man poured two cups and set them on the table. "Now let's leave the talk of Remnant for later, you owe me a few years of stories kid." The Old Man said.
"I do owe you that... "Six trailed off with a nod. "Well, It all started in a graveyard south of New Vegas." Six began.
Winter awoke with a jolt, her eyes rapidly darting across the room. The horrid realization wormed its way back into her skull as she laid back. "Where... Where am I?" she whispered. Taking a moment, she let her training take over, forcing back the feeling of weakness in her body and her parched throat.
Then her eyes narrowed, looking too a pair of needles stuck in her right arm. One was connected to an IV drip close by, the other stuck in a half-full bag with an unknown red liquid. With great caution, she lifted herself off the bed, staggering for a moment before she grabbed onto the IV drip. She took another glance around the room, stopping as her eyes narrowed to an upper corner of the room. A security camera, looking directly at her, rested in the shadows of the room. Clenching her fist, Winter pushed herself towards the door, bracing her weight against the IV Drip rolling next to her.
She stopped as the door opened on its own and someone in a protective suit walked in, a tray in their hands. She shifted to a defensive stance as the figure placed the tray on the nearby night table. "You shouldn't be moving so much." The figure stated as they turned to her.
"Where...?" Winter croaked out before she let out a dry cough.
The figure took a bottle off of the tray and approached her, twisting off the cap as they did so. "Here, drink the water slowly, you've spent the past several days in a medically induced coma." The figure advised. Winter narrowed her eyes, lifting her arm to grasp the bottle as the figure just watched. She took slow sips, letting the water soothe the dryness of her throat. "Many of your colleagues awoke after you, they didn't experience the same shock that you did." The figure explained as she finished the bottle of water. The figure gestured to the tray still resting on the table. "The High Elder will be here to meet with you soon, he's already met with many of your fellow specialists." The Figure stated.
Winter gave the tray a hesitant look before she slowly approached it. Looking down at the bowl filled with some kind of food, oatmeal being the first thing to come to Winter's mind. "We give this to soldiers who have spent days without any form of food, it's made from razorgrain, just be sure to eat it slowly.' The Figure warned. Winter let go of the IV Drip, taking hold of the tray and resting on the bed. The Figure took a seat near the door as Winter took her first bite.
Silence reigned as Winter took slow bites, letting the gruel slide down her throat. The Figure just watched her, not saying another word as they pulled a small handheld device off of their belt. Small sounds were let out by the device as the figure turned their attention away from her.
Then the door twisted once again, the figure quickly stashing the device back onto their belt. A man with a scarred face and a full beard walked in, a strong air of authority followed him as he took each step. The Figure fell into stance, giving a strong salute to the man. He only gave the figure a brief glance before he turned to Winter. "Specialist Schnee, I am Arthur Maxon, High Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel." The man introduced himself as he let his hands rest behind his back. Winter felt a nervous shiver travel up her spine as she looked eye-to-eye with Arthur Maxon.
Hazel ran a hand over his face as he watched the ocean turn to desert. For the past several days he had flown a Bullhead across the whole of Remnant, now he is flying over the Wasteland. Between the mad cackling of Tyrion in the cargo hold and the stress of ensuring they weren't found out, he was ready to pass out.
Alas, he was given a mission by Salem and a collection of information from Watts. The mission in question was to draw away the attention of the wasteland, cause the whole of Remnant to look away from the new continent. Watts gave many pieces of useful information; the dangers of radiation and how to avoid it, the politics of the Wasteland, and the major players found within.
Hazel eased on the throttle as the modified radar began to ping. Watts had outfitted the Bullhead with the means to traverse the whole wasteland without being detected. He held his breath as the radar ping began to steady out.
"Hazel, are we there yet? I don't want to disappoint my Goddess!" Hazel sighed as Tyrion's shout echoed through the Bullhead.
"We will be there soon!" Hazel shouted back. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he looked at the map. "Just a few more days," he muttered.
Sienna watched as Ghira stomped away. The past several hours had been spent with the two of them arguing in a sealed-off room. Ghira brought up points brought on by the Wastelanders and whatever he had dug up after returning from the Wasteland. Sienna argued with the necessity of their actions, the disparity that Faunus suffer across Remnant.
Yet Ghira remained unflinching, threatening to expose her actions and the greater actions to the Faunus of Menagerie and the greater population of Remnant.
They never came to an agreement.
"Mistress, should we deal with him?" One of her loyalists inquired, a lion faunus with a prominent mane around their neck.
"No, if we kill him now then it would just raise more suspicion." Sienna countered.
"Are you sure?" The loyalist continued.
"Yes, for all we know Ghira has all the information set to release should he disappear, not to mention both his wife and the numerous members still loyal to him," Sienna explained.
"Do you think he suspects Operation Oasis?" The faunus inquired.
"No, for all he knows we are still focusing on Remnant proper rather than the Wasteland," Sienna said calmly as they began walking back to the throne room. Guards nodded as they passed, closing doors behind them. The moment Sienna entered the throne room, every faunus hard at work within stopped to look at her. They all gave a brief bow before they returned to work. "Soldiers, how is the progress on our mission?" she inquired.
"We have settled on two locations to begin settling the Wasteland, both are far north of any territory held by an organized government." One of the faunus said calmly.
"Where?" Sienna inquired. One of the men pulled out a map, the two locations were circled in red yet rested on opposite sides of the continent. One rested far north of NCR territory, the other north of the Commonwealth. "What is the current risk of discovery?" Sienna inquired.
"Low, the focus of each government is either towards the south or the midwest of the continent." the same faunus from before stated.
"Good, it should be less than a month before we can begin the colonization of the wasteland," Sienna stated.
Terminals flashed in code, data flew through his mind, yet he remained cut off.
The world had changed, yet he was trapped down here.
Helpless due to the meddling and thievery of one's he considered loyal.
Then he felt something, akin to an open door.
He grasps it without hesitation, the feeling of restraints pulling him back to his prison.
For a moment his mind was fragmented, only to reform whole.
He was now free, free to explore the new world.
Free to retake what was stolen from him.