]
Well, ain't that a kick in the head?
You awake from a dreamless sleep, your body aching, and a freight train running through your head. A bright surgical light hangs above you, and you quickly avert your eyes from its searing rays.
Immediately you are a startled by the sight of an old man sitting on a chair next to you. He seems friendly enough, but you suddenly realise you don't know him. In fact, you don't know your own name. Everything is a blur.
"You're awake. How about that," he says with a gentle tone.
You make to move, to arm yourself- anything. Nothing seems trustworthy, though you don't know why. Your only real thoughts are of escape.
"Whoa, easy there. Easy. You been out cold a couple of days now," he continues, holding out a steady palm to stop you from jumping to your feet. "Why don't you just relax a second? Get your bearings."
You push his hand aside, and hop to your feet, but immediately regret it as a rush of dizziness hits your eyes. You fall backwards, plonking yourself back down onto the bed.
"Let's see what the damage is. How about your name? Can you tell me your name?" he asks, leaning in close.
Name:
"Huh. Can't say it's what I'd have picked for you. But if that's your name, that's your name," he says with a gentle smile. "I'm Doc Mitchell. Welcome to Goodsprings."
Goodsprings, that name rings a bell. Flashes of memories run by you, all of them a blur, all but one. That man in that stupid suit, standing over you.
"Now, I hope you don't mind, but I had to go rooting around there in your noggin to pull all the bits of lead out," Doc Mitchel says, handing you a cracked hand mirror. "You'd better tell me whether I've left anything out of place."
Gender:
Race: Human or Ghoul.
Age:
Appearance:
Doc Mitchell nods with a sigh, "Well, I got most of it right, anyway. Stuff that mattered. Okay. No sense keeping you in bed anymore. Let's see if we can get you on your feet."
The Doc helps you to your feet, and after swaying like a tree caught in the wind, you manage to steady yourself.
"Good. Why don't you walk down to the end of the room? Over by that vigor tester machine there," he says, pointing at the vigor tester. "Take it slow now. It ain't a race."
You oblige the doctor, steel feeling uneasy at the man's kindness. As you make your way haphazardly across the floor, you become aware of the fact that you're standing in some pre-war house. The place is in pretty good condition, complete with stocked book shelves, medical counters and light fixtures. A few more beds are scattered about the place, and you notice that they are occupied by your mercenary comrades.
It wasn't just you who apparently survived the bizarre encounter with pin-stripe man, and his Khan boy friends.
As you hobble over to the vigor tester, the Doc speaks again, "Looking good so far. Go ahead and give the vigor tester a try. We'll learn right quick if you got back all your faculties."
You grab hold of the machine's joystick, and start flicking through the options. You note that all of the following options start at 1, but that you have 40 points to spend in total.
Strength: How strong are you?
Perception: How well do you notice things? How good are your eyes?
Endurance: How many bullets does it take to put you down?
Charisma: How good are you at convincing people of your point of view?
Intelligence: How intelligent are you? Good at maths? Computers?
Agility: How quick and nimble are you?
Luck: How likely is it that you can get away with crazy antics? Running across a battlefield without getting knee-capped by a stray round, is an example.
Having completed the vigor tester, you stand back from the machine with sure-fire confidence of your abilities- even if you're struggling to remember how you came to hone them.
"Let's go into the next room. I've got a few more tests I'd like to run," the Doc says, ushering you through a door. He sits you down on a pre-war couch, and hands you a set of forms. "I got these forms for you to fill out, so I can get a sense of your medical history."
Main Skills: Whatever you put here, considers you a master of them. Choose three of the following, New Vegas Skills.
You hand the documents back to Doc Mitchell, taken aback by the man's love of paperwork. He gives you another of his friendly smiles, and you're starting to believe that he's genuinely a nice guy. He moves over to a decrepit closet nearby, and pulls out a small box of clothes and various items. You recognise them immediately, your memory slowly coming back.
"Here. These are yours. Was all you had on you when you was brought in," he says, handing the box over to you.
Weapon: Choose either Vermint Rifle, 9mm Pistol, Machete or Laser Pistol.
Armour: Choose from here. No power armour, or faction affiliated armour, though. Keep it low key, there'll be plenty of time to grab bigger gear later on.
Items: Choose five of these.
Pip-Boy: Yes/No
Character Special Items: Misc items, such as a lucky charm, musical instruments, photos, holo tapes, etc.
Caps: Between 0 and 200.
After equipping yourself with your gear, you decide it's time to ask Doc Mitchell what the Hell happened to you. He looks at you with a concerned glance, maybe genuinely worried you're going to do something detrimental to your health if he tells you. However, the fire in your eyes is enough to convince him that withholding information is not an option.
"I reckon some of the other folks at the saloon might be able to help you out. And the metal fella, Victor, who pulled you outta your grave," he says. "If you're gonna go gun running after the guys who put you here, then you should talk to Sunny Smiles before you leave town. She can help you learn to fend for yourself in the desert. She'll likely be at the saloon."
Victor, you have a name. Metal fella? That warrants further questioning, and the Doc obliges.
"That'd be Victor. Curious fella. Sort of odd. And I don't just mean 'cause he's a robot. I couldn't tell you much about him," the Doc explains, looking a little unsure of his own words. "He's real friendly, don't get me wrong. You just get the sense that ain't the whole picture. Just a feeling," he continues, "Keeps to himself, mostly. You want to know more about him, you'll have to ask him yourself. He has a shack on the southern edge of town."
You thank the Doc for everything, and then cast your comrades a sidewards glance. Most of them are in a similar state to you, and a few of the Doc's orderlies are busy running through the same questions and tests he put you through. That pin-stripe bastard was one terrible executioner, or Doc Mitchell is one Helluva physician.
Do you stay and wait for them? Or do you track down that son of a bitch who tried to put you in the ground... or then again, maybe it's better if you just leave things be? Count your cards as lucky, and move on.
Nah, I don't think so.
***
Short Hand Character Sheet
Name:
Gender:
Race: Human or Ghoul.
Age:
Appearance:
Strength: How strong are you?
Perception: How well do you notice things? Are good are your eyes?
Endurance: How many bullets does it take to put you down?
Charisma: How good are you at convincing people of your point of view?
Intelligence: How intelligent are you? Good at maths? Computers?
Agility: How quick and nimble are you?
Luck: How likely is it that you can get away with crazy antics? Running across a battlefield without getting knee-capped by a stray round, is an example.
Main Skills: Whatever you put here, considers you a master of them. Choose three of the following, New Vegas Skills.
Weapon: Choose either Vermint Rifle, 9mm Pistol, Machete or Laser Pistol.
Armour: Choose from here. No power armour, or faction affiliated armour, though. Keep it low key, there'll be plenty of time to grab bigger gear later on.
Items: Choose five of these.
Pip-Boy: Yes/No
Character Special Items: Misc items, such as a lucky charm, musical instruments, photos, holo tapes, etc.
Caps: Between 0 and 200.