Hidden 10 yrs ago Post by ShadowGuardian
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ShadowGuardian Ever Watchful. Ever Close.

Member Seen 9 yrs ago

]


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.
Hidden 10 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by Lord Wyron
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Lord Wyron Reclusive Giant Lord

Member Seen 6 days ago


Name:
Carter Wilson, known more commonly as "The Gunslinger", or "The Wanderer" amongst other titles.

Gender:
Male

Race:
Human

Age:
39

Appearance:


Appearance - Con't:
Tall and broad-shouldered with skin like tanned leather, Carter stands at a good 5'11" and possesses a well-muscled, sinewy frame, though not overtly bulky or hefty; built like an endurance athlete. He possesses rough, weather-worn features that speak of a lifetime wandering in the sun-soaked wastes of the Mojave. This has taken a toll on his overall attractiveness though he possesses a rugged sort of handsomeness that will occasionally shine through at random moments. His arms and torso are covered in a variety of scars and brandings, most notably a series of Roman numerals scratched along his flesh. His hair, colored an exceptionally dark blonde, reaches almost down to his shoulders and is kept constantly unkempt and shaggy, with Carter finding things such as hair styling to be pointless in the Wasteland. Carter's voice is rough and slightly gravelly, yet possessing a smooth flow somewhat reminiscent of the Chairmen hiding away in the Strip. Nevertheless he doesn't speak much unless spoken to first, though he possesses a dry, somewhat sardonic wit he'll use like a whip when dealing with both enemy and ally.

Strength:
5 - Average Joe

Perception:
5 - Wary Trout

Endurance:
5 - Stain Resistant

Charisma:
3 - Creepy Undertaker

Intelligence:
6 - Gifted

Agility:
8 - Knife-Catcher

Luck:
8 - Leprechaun's Foot

Main Skills:
Guns, Explosives, Unarmed

Weapon:
Varmint Rifle & Fists

Armour:
A heavily used set of US Army Combat Armor painted over a dull red with a series of bandoliers strapped along his waist and around his upper arms. A rust-colored poncho is draped over his shoulders as a sort of 'cape' and a slightly worn Desperado Cowboy Hat is almost always seen atop his unkempt mess of dark blonde hair. Perhaps Carter's most noteworthy feature is the strange leather mask or bandana he keeps covering the lower half of his face at almost all times, hiding semi-severe burn scars he received at some point in the past.

Items:
1 Bottle of Beer, 1 Black Coffee, 2 Stimpaks, and 1 Rad-X

Pip-Boy(?):
Nope

Character Special Item(s):
Carries a slightly worn deck of Caravan cards and a string of .44 Magnum bullets adorned as a sort of necklace around his neck. Each bullet is engraved with an individual name, the reason for this habit currently known only to him.

Caps:
150
Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by Viscerous
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Viscerous Prototype Gear

Member Seen 7 yrs ago

[Redacted]
Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by Pathfinder
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Pathfinder A walking disaster

Member Seen 6 yrs ago

Name: Croak

Gender: Male

Race: Ghoul.

Age: 79

Appearance: Quite the uh...looker. Despite being a ghoul Croak's body hasn't lost much of his musculature since his mutation, something he attributes to the few lucky moments in his life. His skin, what's left of it anyway, has taken a black and blue coloration more in line with a burn victim than a walking corpse. There is long stretches where skin has completely been removed, leaving exposed muscle that seems to concern everyone besides Croak himself. The eyes seem to be the only youthful and healthy thing about Croak, the irises being bright red with no cloudy of the eye itself. There isn't a single hair on his head, along with a nose and a bit of his right ear is missing from the groups recent stomping. Finally, a distinguishing feature is the fact that the left side of his face is missing a large chunk of flesh which exposes his teeth and makes drinking difficult.

Strength: 10

Perception: 7

Endurance: 9

Charisma: 1

Intelligence: 5

Agility: 5

Luck: 3

Main Skills: Melee, Explosives, Survival

Weapon: Machete and good ol' Fisticuffs

Armour: Beat Up Combat armor

Items: Thin Red Paste, black coffee, Bleak Venom, Whiskey, Stimpak

Pip-Boy: No

Character Special Items: Acoustic guitar, a picture of several other ghouls, a Deathclaw Tooth necklace, and a pack of cigarettes.

Caps: 79
Hidden 9 yrs ago 9 yrs ago Post by FancyTomato
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FancyTomato

Banned Seen 4 yrs ago

Name: Rina Langley

Gender: Female

Race: Human

Age: 24

Appearance:


Strength: 5

Perception: 6

Endurance: 5

Charisma: 6

Intelligence: 7

Agility: 6

Luck: 5

Main Skills: Medicine, Guns, Science

Weapon: 9mm pistol

Armour: Wasteland Doctor Fatigues

Items: 2x Stimpack, Doctor's Bag, Mentats, Rad-X

Pip-Boy: Hahahaha...No.

Caps: 100
Hidden 9 yrs ago Post by Athinar
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Athinar Big Stupid. Veteran from Oldguild.

Member Seen 2 yrs ago


Name: James Lang

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Age: 52

Appearance:


Strength: 6

Perception: 4

Endurance: 7

Charisma: 3

Intelligence: 7

Agility: 5

Luck: 8

Main Skills: Unarmed, Science, Repair

Weapon: 9mm Pistol

Armour: Sheriff's Duster, Sheriff's Hat.

Items: x1 Mole Rat Stew, x1 Moonshine, x2 Jet, x1 Fixer

Pip-Boy: Naw.

Character Special Items: Shiny Medallion, Carton of 12 cigarettes, Lighter

Caps: 45
Hidden 9 yrs ago Post by Ronin
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Ronin

Member Seen 5 yrs ago

Hope this isn't too late.

Name: Grant Soto

Gender: Male

Race: Human

Age: 19

Appearance: A lightly tanned Hispanic man, Grant would be quite a looker if it was not for his rough upbringing. Growing up on the streets of New Reno has left his body covered in scars and bruises. His nose has been severely disfigured by repeated beatings breaking it multiple times.

Like most street kids, he has a runner's build, with little muscle built up. Both his eyes and his hair are a deep, charcoal black. His hairstyle is best described as windswept. He is currently trying to grow a beard, with little but wispy chin hairs to show for it.

Strength: 6

Perception: 7

Endurance: 4

Charisma: 4

Intelligence: 5

Agility: 8

Luck: 6

Main skills: Sneak, Melee, Energy Weapons

Weapon: Laser Pistol

Armor: Vault 21 Jumpsuit, Ball cap with glasses.

Items: Whiskey, Junk Food, Two Nuka Cola, Stimpak

Pipboy: Yes

Special Items: A key he wears as a necklace, a prewar comic book (he likes the pictures), and a prewar camera he has been trying to fix, to no avail.

Caps: 23

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