The year is 2277, 500 years after the bombs fell. The Vault Dweller has failed. The Brotherhood is left broken; factions wage wars across the Wasteland. The rise of the Enclave, headed by President Eden, is at hand. Along with the Super Mutant threat, the Capital Wasteland is once again thrown into turmoil. You play a vital role in the days to come. Will you strive to achieve peace in these barren lands, or bring hell upon those who wold do so? Will you go about your way, and leave the rest up to fate? Or will you, like many others, carve your path, climb to the highest peak, and claim it as your own? Either way, war is once again the deciding factor in the Wasteland's future.
(IC) After dinner, Vincent was offered the boy's room for the night, but he refused, and instead slept on the couch. After everyone had gone to sleep, Vincent snuck out of bed and searched the Smith house for any valuables. After an hour of searching, he came up with a few caps and a ratty old teddy bear. Tossing the stuffed toy, he pocketed the cash and was about to head back to sleep, when he noticed the door in the back of the kitchen. Stepping lightly across the room, he entered the kitchen and moved swiftly to the door. After checking the doorknob and trying a few bobbypins, he concluded that he'd have to find the key in order to get any farther. He allowed himself a quiet curse, and moved over to the stairs to the upper level of the house. Vincent could faintly hear the snores of Mr. Smith, and the light shallow breathing of his wife and son. After listening for ten more minutes, he ascended the stairs, testing each step to avoid creaks and groans from the wood. After another ten minutes, he was up the stairs and began to walk towards the master bedroom when he heard the creak of the front door being opened. Vincent found a dark corner and faded into the darkness, lying in wait for the intruder.
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It had been several hours since Frank's encounter when he reached Andale. It was around midnight, and he could barely see five feet in front of him, but it was better than being out in the open during daylight. Frank had heard many things about this place, the most disturbing of which was that the town was rumored to be home to some cannibals. Frank had thought the rumors to be just that, and was about to go and knock on one of the doors when he noticed the shack behind the house to his right. He walked over and tried the door, but it was locked. Luckily, Frank was good at this sort of thing and he managed to pick the lock after his third try. He swung the door open, and walked down a flight of stairs into a small room. Through the darkness, he could vaguely make out the outline of what appeared to be a bundle of cloth. Walking over to the table, he felt his way along the surface of the bundle, until he brushed over what felt like cold flesh. Frank pulled out a small torch and lit it, confirming his suspicion. The room had two long tables, each with various body parts and corpses lying on top. Slowly, Frank backed away, ascended the stairs, and ran out of the shack towards the nearest house.
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After the intruder had gone into the kitchen, Vincent pulled a long, sharp knife from a consealed sheath under his shirt and crept slowly down the stairs. He was only five feet away when the young man, who looked only 19, turned about swiftly, pistol in hand.
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"You were probably thinking of gutting me like the rest and having a tasty snack, weren't you?" Frank advanced on the man, who had a confused look about his face. "What? What the hell are you talking about?" His words sounded real enough, but Frank wouldn't listen. He pressed the nose of his gun into the man's chest. "I know you're one of those damned cannibals I've been hearing about." "What!? Cannibals? I don-" "Don't screw with me. I've seen what you keep down there in your little chop shop out back. Now sit down in the chair and keep your hand's where I can see them." Vincent obeyed, and sat with his hands on his lap. Frank looked around the room for something to tie the man's hands when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He spun around, raising his empty pistol, but the man who had tapped him swung his fist hard into the side of Frank's skull, knocking him out. "Oh, thank god... I thought he was gonna kill me." Vincent quickly feigned a shaken appearance, shuddering as he looked down at Frank. "Well, you're in good hands now... And we've got ourselves a little treat as well. I wasn't expecting more visitors for at least a week." "Eh... Treat? What do you mean?" "What, he didn't already tell you? We're cannibals, kid. You're next on the menu, along with your buddy here." The old man chuckled, then swung his fist again, this time into Vincent's head, rendering him unconscious as well. Then he grabbed one leg in each hand and dragged his next two victims into the basement...
