Boodles

Journey Across the Wasteland

Isaac walked steadily along a rocky cliffside. From what he had heard in the settlement he had just came from, the group of raiders he was tracking were last seen heading towards vault 200. The vast resources and often inexperienced occupants of vaults made them tempting targets for raiders, though they were rarely able to get past the vaults door. He figured that the group would likely be stuck in that exact way, and would be easing pickings from this ridge overlooking the vault. Rounding a cliffside corner, he saw the circular frame of the vault come into view, but to his surprise the gear shaped door itself was open.

"Shit, was I too late?," he muttered to himself. He took his hunting rifle off of his back and laid prone on the stone, pointing his gun towards the ajar door.

Gazing through his scope he studied the vault entrance. There was no movement, but looking into the vault he spotted a few limp corpses lying within the entrance. They had definitely been here. Now the question was, were they still inside? Closer inspection would be needed to find that out.

Just as Isaac was getting up to climb down the stony hill, a burst of movement came from within the vault. Quickly steadying himself again, Isaac tracked the figure in his lens. It was a young woman, and she frantically charged forward into the the light before collapsing to her knees. Her blue vault suit gave her away as a survivor. She sat there in the dirt, apparently sobbing. As he watched her, Isaac felt a cocktail of emotions begin to boil in his chest. Anger at the raiders for destroying the lives of the vault dwellers, frustration towards himself for not arriving sooner, but mostly guilt. He didn't have to be close to the girl to tell that she was unprepared for the devastation of the outside world, many vault dwellers are, but even from this distance he could feel that she was especially innocent. Her tears were not just for the devastation of her vault, but for the undoing of the world as she knew it.

While he contemplated these feelings, he saw something approaching her in the wastes. Were the raiders back for more? No, this thing was moving on all fours, and coming straight at her. He adjusted his scope, and took aim at the charging creature. As it closed in, he wrapped his finger around the trigger, but hesitated. It wasn't a wasteland beast that came towards her, but a dog. Dogs can still be dangerous of course, but this one appeared to comforting her instead of attacking. After a minute, she stood up and set off into the dust, dog in tow. Isaac's guilt and frustration were quickly replaced with panic. Charging into the wasteland unprepared rarely ended well for anybody. Getting down from the hill he was on would slow him down, but if he hurried he could hopefully catch up with her before she got into too much trouble.

Journey Across the Wasteland

Isaac Jost

Age: 24
Gender: Male
Species: Human
Appearance: 5'9", Swept back dark brown hair, brown eyes, copper skin, small radiation burns across his face. Outside of settlements, he usually wears a green assault gas mask.
Family: A mother and father who live back at the settlement he grew up in.
Traits: Independent, kind of shy, protective of common people.
Skills: Good shot, expert tracker, lockpicking, first aid, making and maintaining weapons.
Flaws: Bad at interacting with strangers, weak in a physical confrontation, pessimistic.
Likes: Warm meals, Hunting, well oiled machines
Dislikes: Bullies, Dust, Corn
Fears: Lightning, Crowds, Radscorpions
SPECIAL: 1 strength, 8 perception, 3 endurance, 3 charisma, 3 Intelligence, 7 agility, 5 luck
Favored Weapons: Bolt-action rifles

Brief History: Isaac grew up in a small, relatively peaceful settlement in the southwestern territories of what was once the United States. He liked the quiet lifestyle, but life on the farm wasn't without incident. Raiders were an ever-present threat, and although they were never able to overrun the settlement or cause too much damage, Isaac quickly learned to hate those who preyed upon the innocent and weak. Eventually, not long after Isaac came of age, his simple life came to an end. The territory in which he lived was swept up in the expansionist wave of the NCR, and with many of the settlements residents leaving to join the Republic's military, it became clear that Isaac's home would soon fade into dust. While his parents left to sharecrop for the NCR, Isaac choose instead to set off on his own. He made a meager living as a hunter, killing geckos and wild bighorners, but quickly found that killing raiders was a more profitable and satisfying business. Now he wanders the wastes, stalking those who would take advantage of the defenseless.

The Reign of the Demon King

Ignacio Snek

Age: 20

Gender: Male

Class: Cleric/Monk

Species: Yuan-Ti Pureblood

Alignment: Lawful Evil

Appearance: Ignacio is a young man who would be considered attractive if he didn't have an uncanny valley look to him that gave people goosebumps; he has a long, thin face with high cheekbones, hypnotizing yellow eyes with slit pupils, and soft looking green hair. He stands at 5'10" with a thin build, lengthy limbs, and light brown skin with a rough, scaly texture.

Personality: Ignacio is a cold, merciless, asshat of a man. He remains distant and unsympathetic even with his allies, and rarely feels any emotion other than total apathy. That's it. That's him.

Backstory: To be decided upon later.

Skills: Being able to keep people distant and uncomfortable around him is one of Ignacio's crowning achievements. He can also heal, talk to snakes, and keep wild enemies at bay due to the constant intimidating energy he gives off.

Weaknesses: Ignacio is overly prideful and cocky, and he has no social skills whatsoever. He is also a physical weakling, has never cooked a day in his life, and is allergic to peanuts.

Weapons: Magic and his trusty quarterstaff.

Extra:

• Too cool for school
• Ow, the edge

Dead of Winter

Full Name:
Malcolm Kearson
Age:
29

Character Appearance:
Malcolm is an imposing man, standing at 6'2". His form is muscular, but not heavy. He has a short rough beard, and his hair his buzzed short. He has a scar that runs from his left cheek to his nose, as well as many other smaller marks scattered across his face and body. He has a tattoo of an eagle on his back whose wings stretch from shoulder to shoulder.

Skills:
Scavenging
Breaking and entering
Equipment:
A crowbar, a screwdriver, a pack with spare clothes and a handful of other supplies
Weapons:
A 9mm pistol
Character Bio & Backstory:
Malcom grew up in a broken home. His father was a raging alcoholic, who regularly abused him and and his mother. When he was 12 his mother left, and he left not long after. Those years on the street were extremely difficult, but eventually he found his way into a criminal outfit and for the first time, he had a proper family. Everyone there took care of each other, and worked together for the success of the group. However, that feeling of family was merely a deception. One day, during a standard burglary, the homeowner walked in on the gang. As they turned to run, all malcolm could think of was the success of the job, and shot the homeowner dead. He felt no remorse, only that he had done what needed to be done. Later, the group was busted in a sting operation. In exchange for a lighter sentence, his "family" sold him out as the murderer to the police. He was sentenced to rot in prison, and that was the end of his story, if not for the zombie outbreak. As chaos and fear mounted, the prisoners overwhelmed the security and managed to break free. Malcom ran as well, leaving everything he was behind, hoping that the tragedy would give him a fresh start. The only thing he took was the handgun of a fallen prison guard.
Flaws:
Intelligence: Malcolm lacks a formal education, and doesn't always think situations all the way through
Trust: Malcolm has a very hard time trusting others, and often acts in untrustworthy ways himself, ie. hoarding food, keeping secret stashes, lying about his actions
Strengths:
Discipline: Malcolm almost never acts emotionally, and will always maintain his composure in stressful situations.
Physicality: Malcolm is very physically gifted. Despite lacking formal training he his tough in a fight, and naturally a good shot.

Kept Secret or Hidden Agenda:
While malcolm is forward about his criminal past, he hides the fact that he killed someone out of fear that he will be sentenced to death again.

Grayfall Guild: Now Hiring!

Meanwhile Drek had recovered from his drunken stupor and was currently playing with the wolf pups, throwing sticks and the like for them to return while also attempting to teach them a few rudimentary commands to limited success.

Grayfall Guild: Now Hiring!

Drek throws an arm over Lilith's shoulder.

"Thull be back, they ulways come back."

Grayfall Guild: Now Hiring!

Drek holds his chin and thinks hard for a good while before turning back to Cliver.

"One I think."

Grayfall Guild: Now Hiring!

"I wull admit that my jugmint is pearhaps slightly imperred."

Grayfall Guild: Now Hiring!

Drek kicks open the door and stumbles in, clearly wasted from the celebratory alcohol. Rhubarb is stuffed in his shirt, her little head poking out from his collar.

"Lilth! I don't know where Sky iz an Rhubab just peed on the floor. We shou go."

Grayfall Guild: Now Hiring!

Drek stands up on a table and describes the fight with more than a fair bit of embellishment. He produces smaller scale versions of his magic in order to help explain, sparks and fireballs flying through the room in a controlled manner.