Question, could we later get nonstandard items in the RP? Like a guitar, because we need that morale and 209 years on this planet would be justification enough to have an excuse as to why Croak can play.
Of course. I'm getting to that actually.
Players will be allowed to find things at will, really. However, what they find might annoy others, you know, if they keep finding loads of cool stuff in some radiated ruins. Doing the quests will get you around this, by throwing you things your way.
But yah, I'm adding a section on this as we speak.
I'll also be overhauling the character creation bit, to allow for Misc Items (such as a guitar!) and for Pip-Boys, because I know how much everyone loves them.
So this is how I plan to keep track of things, what'd you think?
Quests and Progress Tracker
Active Main Quests
They Went That-A-Way!
Locating Victor and asking him for more information on how he found you, will reveal that the unknown stranger who ran at you for help was a courier for the Mojave Express.
Speaking to Trudy at the Prospector Saloon will reveal that the mysterious man in the pin-striped suit came through Goodsprings with some Great Khans, and that they were discussing shady business, involving the exchange of money and the acquisition of something from someone.
Speaking to Victor and Trudy will send the group in the direction of Primm, where they will seek out more information from Johnson Nash at the Vikki and Vance Casino regarding the stranger.
Active Optional Quests
Back In the Saddle
Locate Sunny Smiles at the Prospector Saloon.
Shoot some bottles out the back of the Saloon, under Sunny's guidance.
Kill the Geckos at the Goodsprings Source (See map), with Sunny's assistance.
Sunny will show the player/s how to use their weapons and how to survive in the wild. Completion yields one modification for the Varmint rifle for all active participants.
Inactive Optional Quests
Run Goodsprings, Run
Locate Joe Cobb leaning up against a small house at the southeastern edge of Goodsprings. He will ask the players to kill Ringo, a Crimson Caravan merchant who has fled to Goodsprings to escape the Powder Gangers.
Follow the marker to the Goodsprings gas station and kill Ringo, then return to Joe
Forcibly take, or steal, supplies from Chet (trader) and Doc Mitchell, and return the goods to Joe Cobb.
Help Joe and his Powder Ganger comrades attack and take over Goodsprings.
Participating players receive .44 magnum revolvers, and become friendly with the Powder Gangers but vilified by Goodsprings.
Ghost Town Gunfight
Head up to the gas station, to the right of Mitchell's house. Ringo will challenge you when you enter, but talking to him will give the option to offer your help dealing with Joe Cobb.
Once the players accept to help Ringo, the Powder Gangers launch their attack on the town.
The players must fight off the attack, and kill Joe Cobb.
Players become vilified by the Powder Gangers, but become revered by Goodsprings. Buying more outlandish items from Chet will be allowed.
Very detailed and you have put some real effort into it despite saying that it is not even done yet! Very interested to say the least. Maybe I will finally give playing a ghoul a try ^^
Interested
Haha, thanks for your compliment :)
I'm going to hit it hard today... I've got about 3 hours or so to get this baby nailed down and ready to fly. There's a few issues I need to resolve, like the whole "only three skills" thing, and I think I'll look into setting up an "Objectives" post that can be easily referenced to remind people what the group is supposed to be up to.
Interest noted, because my other fallout rp is taking forever to start. At least nv is ready to go. Also would like to reserve the unarmed, sneak, and lockpick skills. Also maybe a second? If so, energy weapons, science, and barter.
The story is obviously ready and good to go, but I need to do a bit more work on the RP's inner functions. Like I've said, it shouldn't be too long.
As for second characters, I can't see that being a problem- might get a bit crowded, but I've got nothing inherently against it.
Speaking of crowded, I'm going to rewrite the intro, changing the characters from the Courier's hired guns, to simply members of a caravan that chanced upon Benny's ambush and were themselves caught up in it. Not much of a difference, but it adds a bit more scope on what kind of character you may have, and it'll get rid of the idiotic notion that the Courier was rich enough to hire so many people! Haha.
Being a big fan of the Fallout series, this definitely has piqued my interest :) I won't put down my formal application yet, but I'll definitely Subscribe and keep an eye on things here!
Thanks man. It's not finished yet, I still need to smooth it out.
What you see at the moment is the draft, and it'll likely change shape as I think of new or better ideas, and receive feedback.
Still, with all of that said, It's not far from being finished. Like I say, it just needs refinement.
Edit: Ignore this. I probably won't have much time, and the 'stat' thing makes me wary.
Yeah, it's pretty complicated for someone who's never played Fallout, I should have maybe mentioned that.
On the other hand, it acts as a great anti-God modding device, as it measures a character's actual abilities whilst staying loyal to the Fallout universe. Gives everyone an idea of what they can do.
But yeah, to people who've never played the game, S.P.E.C.I.A.L is going to be a complicated concept.
So, about the skills, how does it make sense that our characters are masters at certain things, but complete failures at everything else? I mean, suppose I tag Speech, Guns, and Sneak. Am I completely awful at repair? How am I a master of the operation of firearms yet have no idea how to take care of one? I'd suggest adding another section to the character, where you can put two or three skills that you are proficient at(NOT a master at), perhaps as long as you explain how it is related to one of the three skills you have mastered...?
EDIT: Reading over this again, I apologize if it comes off as hostile.
Using a gun, and maintaining it are two different things.
Being a master of using guns, and being a master of repairing them, you know, there's a difference there. But let's back up a little shall we?
Are you going to keep a record of your gun's condition? Of how the barrel degrades over the expenditure of each bullet? I mean, whoa, you can if you want, but that sounds realllllllllllllllllllllll pedantic.
Instead, repair will likely feature for you know, repairing things. Like Edee, and other such scenarios. A handy skill to have, in a wasteland full of broken things.
And besides, someone who hasn't taken repair, if they really wanted to progress the degradation of their weapons, could still repair them - just less effectively so. They'd have to find an exact copy of the gun, take it apart, use the bits they need. A master of repair would be able to crack open a fridge and re-purpose the parts from that.
It's all how you want to perceive it, personally, I don't see the issue. I understand where you're coming from, but I think it's the wrong angle, as if this text-based adventure was coming complete with a HUD.
Now that we've got some other characters, I'll be posting mine today and polishing it off.
Age:
38
Gender:
Male
Occupation:
Day Laborer, Safe Zone 88.
Personality: Laid back, with a strong sense of fatalism. He thinks that what will be, will simply be, and all he can do is enjoy the ride.
Bio:
Wayne Richmond is a man with few worries, even when the world is teetering on the edge of oblivion.
A prolific cannabis user before the attacks, with a string of related felonies to his name and a small chunk of prison time to boot, Wayne has never been much of a fan when it comes to systems. He's wayward, but not chaotically so; he respects authority, just not when it invites itself into the homes of those it governs.
And so, the Safe Zone has become somewhat of a living hell for Wayne. There's little privacy, little room for lethargy, and the military run things with an iron fist. Not that he dislikes soldiers, of course. The same soldiers who allow him to sleep at night, also saved what's left of his family-- ironically, his grandparents who are near their end already.
His parents? Brother? Sister? He doesn't know. They were in California when the attacks happened, and he hasn't heard from them since. He expects the worst, but truth be told, he doesn't care too much. His pre-disaster life drove a wedge between he and they. They'd told him he was wasting his life, that he was a failure, with no prospects and doomed to be a leech until the end of his days. He wholeheartedly agreed with them, and as they slowly stopped calling and emailing him, slowly stopped all their correspondents and attempts at contact, the happier he became.
He was a free man, finally. No bonds to hold him back, he could forge his own path and care not for the consequences of loved ones. Wayne then spent nearly a decade bouncing from one social security cheque to the next, all the while feigning a non-existent back injury. Most of his money went on dope and snack food; his life was a shambles to an outsider, but to him, it was perfect. No responsibility, no stress.
Just getting stoned and happy, perfek!
When the attacks came, Wayne was in New York, visiting his grandparents, whom he still cared for... although possibly because he knew they wouldn't be around much longer. He didn't want any emotional baggage from their deaths, for not doing enough to know them, and besides, they had a much more liberal attitude to his lifestyle than his immediate family.
As the national and global situation deteriorated, Wayne threw his grandparents in their car, jumped behind the wheel, and drove them to the Safe Zone advertised on the radio and tv. About 10,000 people had the same idea though, and the transport systems quickly crumbled.
Wayne led his grandparents through the traffic on foot, despite their protests about leaving their car behind. It took them an hour to reach the entrance to the Safe Zone, and Wayne's heart sunk when he saw the mile long ques. Lighting a spliff, he resigned himself for the slow wait, sure of himself that there'd be room in there for all of them.
And that's when the infected struck the waiting masses. Screams sounded on the outside of the crowd, and then there was shouting, and then all Hell broke loose. The crowd surged towards the military blockades, and the military was forced into use live ammunition to hold the line. Dozens were shot dead indiscriminately - a depressing consequence of illogical human panic - but Wayne managed to lead his grandparents through the chaos, and onto the right side of the barricade.
He was ushered into a medical tent by a team of soldiers, as a squadron of Apache gunships reared their ugly wasp-like heads from behind Manhattan, speeding towards the ensuing chaos.
Wayne didn't see what happened next, but he heard it.
The amount of people killed that day has always been actively hidden or masked by the military regime ever since.
Four months later, and Wayne has gone through a major transformation. With his precious dope in short supply, and no wellfare system to carry his lazy ass, he's had to apply his efforts to an actual trade. Wayne had no real skills to speak of, and so found himself day laboring for the military, carrying boxes this way and that, and helping with the transport of munitions. It was hard work, and he'd already figured that his back would give way long before the fungus would get him, but he had little choice in the matter.
Most of his earnings, he spent on paying for his grandparent's incredibly expensive medical costs. Arthritis meds and blood-thinners were the new gold in this post-apocalyptic world, and Wayne ran a very fine line between ensuring his grandparent's continued survival, and the Safe Zone 88 equivalent of bankruptcy.
When word came out about the Safe Zone's dwindling supplies, and the subsequent call for volunteers to locate replacement stocks, Wayne enquired as to the rewards. The military promptly promised free meds to his grandparents, should he succeed in locating the resources thy were after.
This deal seemed as good as any, and Wayne volunteered.
Weapons:
Heavy-duty steel crowbar drop-forged, approx 1 meter in length.
Military issue combat knife.
Items of Note:
Burnished steel crucifix on an aluminum neck chain.
Walkman Cassette Player + Headphones + Tapes
Small pouch of tobacco mixed lightly with cannabis, and rolling materials.
Since I have just started a new run of New Vegas, I might give it a try.
I'm downloading it as we speak, but more because I need to remind myself of the plot. I remember the gist of it, but it's been about a year or more since I last played, so I gotta refresh myself in case we end up walking into the Capital Wasteland by way of a magic carpet.
Thanks for your interest though. I'm still working on it, but I just wanted to test the waters. I know there's a lot of Fallout Rps going on, owing to the recent news of Fallout 4, but I thought I'd see if I could make something a little more special. Wanted to do a Fallout 3 version of this, but that would have meant the guy having 6+ kids, and the story would've been too laughable.
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.
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.
This roleplay will be heavily based on the New Vegas story line, but modified to allow for a group of caravan guards to replace the singular protagonist, aka the Courier, of the game. Consider this a co-op version, and a chance to play the character you never could due to the software's limitations.
Things will start in very much the same way. The group will have been part of a caravan, moving between Primm and Goodsprings when they stumbled into Benny's ambush of the Courier. Cutting a long story short, the Courier gets mowed down, and the caravan guards don't do too well either. Our characters all wake up in Doc Mitchel's house, as he and a few orderlies tend to our wounds and inform us of what's happened.
We then go searching for Benny to get some well earned revenge, loosely following the game's events as we do so.
All told, it should be an easy, casual affair, as the lore and the plot are already provided for us. All we have to do is aim a Fat Man at it and fire!
Cutting A Short Story Long
War. War never changes.
When atomic fire consumed the earth, those who survived did so in great, underground vaults. When they opened, their inhabitants set out across ruins of the old world to build new societies, establish new villages, forming tribes.
As decades passed, what had been the American southwest united beneath the flag of the New California Republic, dedicated to old-world values of democracy and the rule of law. As the Republic grew, so did its needs. Scouts spread east, seeking territory and wealth, in the dry and merciless expanse of the Mojave Desert. They returned with tales of a city untouched by the warheads that had scorched the rest of the world, and a great wall spanning the Colorado River.
The NCR mobilized its army and set it east to occupy the Hoover Dam, and restore it to working condition. But across the Colorado, another society had arisen under a different flag. A vast army of slaves, forged in the conquest of 86 tribes: Caesar's Legion.
Four years have passed since the Republic held the Dam - just barely - against the Legion's onslaught. The Legion did not retreat. Across the river, they gathered strength. Campfires burned, training drums beat.
Through it all, the New Vegas Strip has stayed open for business under the control of its mysterious overseer, Mr. House, and his army of rehabilitated Tribals and police robots.
You are one of a group of caravan guards, hired by a local trader to take them from Primm to New Vegas. However, your caravan happens upon a wide eyed and bloodied stranger, running down the road and begging you to save them.
You reached for you weapons, as the first bullets struck from the darkness.
***
Muzzle flashes light up the darkness of the surrounding rocky landscape. You and your comrades rush for cover, firing blindly in the direction of the ambushers. The person who had approached you for help, lays dead upon the road, pooling blood glinting in the moon light.
Breaking from the road, to find better cover, several of your comrades are shot in the back by your unseen opponents. The trader you were hired to defend, is already dead, slumped forwards by his pack Brahmin. For a second time you raise your weapon and fire in return, but whether or not you've hit anything is anyone's guess. Some of you manage to group behind a large boulder, and attempt to gauge the situation.
Footsteps sound from behind, in the darkness. You all turn, but are promptly riddled with bullets from an automatic weapon. Lead tears through flesh and crushes bone, and an orchestra of your cries of pain signal the end of the fighting. An eerie silence falls over the scene, and you manage to roll onto your back, fighting back the blood threatening to surge through your throat.
The dark night sky becomes darker still, as your vision leaves you. However, through blurry eyes you make out the image of a man, wearing a ridiculous pin-striped suit. He walks onto the road with casual swagger, a group of Great Khans at his back. The barrels of their weapons are smoking, and there's little doubt that these are the bastards that opened up on you.
The man in the suit kneels down by the headless stranger who had first called for your aid, and ruffles around in the deceased's pockets, coming away with something akin to a shiny poker chip. He notices you looking over at him, and in response, he flashes the smuggest punch-me-in-the-face smile you've ever seen.
You try to reach over to your weapon, but it's no use, your body is racked with the pain of a thousand broken glass shards. You become dizzy, nauseous.
The prick stands over you, looking down, still smiling. "Sorry you got twisted up in this scene," he says dismissively. He reaches into his suit jacket, and pulls out a decorative handgun. "From where you're laying it must seem like an 18-carat run of bad luck. Truth is...the game was rigged from the start."
He points the barrel at your head, and you close your eyes as he pulls the trigger.
A crash of thunder, a blinding light.
And then there was nothing.
Rules
I don't really need to list much here, I'm sure you all by now know the golden rules of Rping. Don't be a dick, don't upset people, don't god mod yada yada.
However, there are a few things I want to cover.
Upon creating your character, you will choose stats and skills as you would have in the game. There wont be a levelling system in this though, as that would be ridiculous, and there wont be time for a character to realistically learn new skills either, I don't think. So once you've chosen your key skills, that's it, no more. You choose guns, you can use guns. You choose lasers, you can use lasers. You choose pick locking, then you can pick lock.
Want to use a laser gun but didn't choose energy weapons? Tough, your guy/gal is going to suck at using it OR SO HELP ME GOD I'LL SPAWN A LEGENDARY DEATH CLAW ON THEM. Want to hack a computer but didn't choose it as a skill? Sorry, you just activated the nearby RobCo Molestorbot from the cupboard behind you, have fun with that :)
The same logic applies to stats. If you don't have enough strength to carry a weapon (will be using the game's weapon stats to determine that), then tough, you can't carry it properly. Didn't invest in agility? I don't think your guy/gal should be moving as fast as you're claiming.
But let's have a Q&A to add some more clarity to all of this.
Can I have two characters?
Yes.
So if I chose guns, repair and science, you're telling me my guy couldn't figure his way around a laser gun?
Kind of yes, but it depends on the context of the situation. If your guy picked one up from a fallen opponent or comrade in the heat of fighting, then we can be pretty happy that the weapon is at least in working order. However, your character wont be too familiar with the sight system, and probably wont know how to reload it-- or maybe would only know in theory (science!).
So yeah, in this situation your character could pick up that laser gun and point it at things and pull the trigger.
However, if the gun run out of ammo, you're going to be fumbling with the energy cells, and you wont reload it as quickly as someone who does know their way around them. Also, you might botch the reload, and turn it into a thermal hand grenade that goes boom the moment you pull the trigger.
My point is, your guy/gal could probably work out how one worked, but in the heat of fighting, their unfamiliarity with the weapon needs to be accounted for.
This same kind of philosophy applies to all skills. Someone who can't picklock, might be able to picklock a simple door from time to time, but the moment they tried it on something more advanced, they'd find themselves wholey inadequate to the task.
Same for medicine. Any dumb fool can use a stimpack, but a doctor is going to know how to use them much more effectively, giving much better results.
Who do we side with? Legion or the NCR?
Whoever you want!
What if there's a divide in opinion?
Then get your PvP sausages out, and I'll get my dice out. We'll resolve any player on player battles with some jury rigged dice rolls, if players cannot come to agreement.
Can I Kill NPCs?
Yes, UNLESS they are vital to the plot's progression. Once these particular NPCs have served their purpose, they become expendable though.
Do we have to follow the New Vegas storyline to the point?
Yes, and no. The idea is you all want to track down the guy who tried to kill you, and to do so, you need to find out who the Hell he was trying to kill in the first place, which will lead you to Primm, which will lead you to Nipton, so on, and so forth.
However, you don't need to go about it the same way, and you're free to embark on little side adventures.
What if no one knows what to do next?
I'll point players in the right direction, upon request.
Maps
Goodsprings, Start Location
Goodsprings, Locale
NPCs
NPC interaction might pose an issue, as the characters will need to converse with them at certain points to further the plot. Now, there's no way I'm going to try and take on the living breathing world, because that would be boring as Hell, and frankly would take too much time.
Instead, we'll all share equal power over NPCs.
In conversations, I don't expect you to quote their dialogue from the game, but you may need to paraphrase it if they have information crucial to the plot's progression.
As for their mortality, kill or befriend at will! Don't like Sunny Smiles because she scorned your attempts at flirting? Blow her face off. I mean, the locals wont be too happy, and you'll end up having to fight your way out of the town- but hey, that's Fallout for you.
Although if you become too problematic, the other players might decide that the bullet did too much damage to your brain, and murder you.
As for bartering, players are free to handle this at will. Want to buy a weapon mod from Chet? Then just go and do it, but be reasonable. If we see you walking out of there with a Fat Man launcher, we'll castrate you.
Do your research, find out what traders sell what goods, and use that knowledge to back up your purchases.
Finding Items And You
How do we answer the age old question of players deciding when it's an appropriate time for their character to conveniently locate a weapon or armour upgrade?
I think the only real way to deal with this, is to beg everyone to be reasonable. I wont bar characters from finding goodies in locked chests, ruins or on corpses, but I wont encourage the kind of behaviour that sees them finding Li'l Devil after stepping outside of Doc Mitchell's house.
Keep your character as strong as the enemies you're running into, and don't become so powerfully equipped that you can one-man the Hidden Bunker.
When it comes to supplies, such as food and meds, I'm more lenient on this. Again though, it comes down to you guys being reasonable. I don't expect to see anyone lift up a rock and find twenty stimpacks.
If you'd like to find an item that has more significance to your character's story arc, than it does to them being OMFG unstoppable, then I'll give you free reign with this. A player asked me for example, if they'd be allowed to find a guitar. In this case, yeah, why not? It's not going to kill a Deathclaw, and it's not some kind of technology that puts the game at a bit of a slant.
But all in all, if you're unsure, it's always best to ask the question in the OOC. That way you know you wont be upsetting anyone!
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