{ABANDONED} Wastelander's Blues: A Fallout Fanfiction {ABANDONED}

{ABANDONED} Wastelander's Blues: A Fallout Fanfiction {ABANDONED}

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing2h 4m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Tue, Jul 14, 2020
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Fiction
Fantasy
The year is 2277, almost 200 years after nuclear war broke out across the world, leaving Earth in a torn apart and pieced together state. The war that cause the world to be in such circumstances lasted the whole of two hours, to which there were no true victors, but the exact opposite of such an outcome. In 2277, however, the world is still in pieces, the only difference is that what little civilisation that is left is doing its best to piece it together, but they are not doing too well. Many factors of The Wastes prevent much progress, such as Raiders, Radscorpions, Feral Ghouls, Malfunctioning Automatrons and the worst obstacles of all, Deathclaws. Apart from those obstacles, many gangs and tribes of The Wastes hate each other, thus making the rebuilding of Earth even more difficult, and for those who have done their best to rebuild, this factors make it tough to keep going. All is not lost for some, however, as is evident by certain groups of people coming together to recreate goverment again, but with all groups wanting to better the world, there are groups created with intentions to ruin such hopes, The New California Republic and Caesar's Legion are an example of such events. But that is a different story, this story follows that of a simple Wastelander, born to dependable farming parents who have been harassed by Raiders and smaller gangs alike, thus leaving our Wastelander very traumatised, but bitter toward Raiders and gangs, and they hope to make a difference for not only their family, but for the world.
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Cover by @Woofy291 Prologue War... War never changes... When the bombs fell during the Great War in 2077, and atomic fire consumed the earth, those who survived did so in giant vaults. When these vaults finally 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 sent 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 from 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, it gathers strength. Campfires burned, and 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. While all this was going on two people lived their lives. Loona, a hellhound and slave of Vulpes Inculta dragged to Nipton as her master made plans to destroy to town. And a courier working for the Mojave Express, who had been selected to deliver the Platinum Chip only to be caught by a man named Benny and left for dead in the Goodsprings Cemetery. Little did anyone know, but these two unassuming people would come together and be to ones to change to fate of the entire Mojave Wasteland... I do not own Helluva boss of Fallout New Vegas.

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