Kreshna Aryaguna Nurzaman
First time out of the vault
Even since I was raised as a kid in Vault-13, I always wanted to be a soldier. Yes, I read those pre-war magazines, and I always thought military soldiers were cool. You know, the helm, the uniform, the assault rifle, and the likes. Unfortunately, such gears didn't exist anymore in the Vault. Fortunately, I was the one picked by the Overseer for the water-chip mission, I took it as a good opportunity to live up my dream. Of course, I started with wimpy Vault uniform and even wimpier 10mm pistol, but hey, it was the entire wasteland out there! There must be some leftover junks from the pre-war era; the cool things I read in those old magazines.
I considered myself lucky; after roaming the wasteland for some time, there was a nice trader in a town named the Hub. Among his junks, there was a really cool thing called 'combat armor', which was probably the closest thing to the military uniform I saw in the magazines. There was also an even cooler thing named 'assault rifle'. Hey, just because I'm a pro-gay rights, pro-science, pro-tax left winger, it doesn't mean I do not love guns. In fact, I do love them. The bigger, the better. Guns, guns, guns. Hell yeah!
Ah, but back to the adventure, I also met several companions, namely Ian, Tycho, Katja, and Dogmeat. The last was a dog, and a very good one. People were afraid for him, but I won his affection with Iguana-On-A-Stick. By the way, unlike other adventurers in the wasteland out there, I didn't called me and my companions a 'party'; I'd rather call them 'special forces' instead, and for good reason.
Wasteland Special Forces
The old photograph above shows me and my team. I was, of course, the guy wearing the combat armor, with green camouflage uniform and cool-looking military helmet. If you don't recognize the short-haired fellow in metallic armor, it was Ian. Yup, I managed to convince him to switch his leather jacket with something better, as well as convincing him to have a haircut! I alsoconvinced Katja to wear leather armor and do away with her mohawks, and she actually looked prettier that way. Tycho and Dogmeat were the only ones who did not change their appearance.
But before continuning with my story, let me tell me more about myself. I was already a 35 years old when the Overseer sent me to find the water-chip, and even today, I still wonder why he didn't choose younger, more fit candidates. The more I think about it, the more I believe that he chose me because I suffer from a genetic disorder called Hexadecimal Editing Syndrome. As the result, I have more beneficial physical attributes than average person, especially Perception, Charisma, and Luck --and I'm not a Gifted person!
Uh, yes, I'm a hexadecimal mutant freak. See my S.P.E.C.I.A.L attributes if you don't believe me.
I think the most valued attribute is my Luck. See, just few days after my exploration through the wasteland, I found a truck which contained a lot of bottle caps, which translated to currency in such post-nuclear civilization. So yes, I was filthy rich!
Rich, rich, rich!
Ah, but let me tell you about what me and my Special Forces team were doing down there. You see, it was a pretty large town named L.A. Boneyard, which I believed to be the remains of the pre-war city named Los Angeles. There was a section in the town people called 'Warehouse', and the section was pretty much uninhabited. In fact, nobody dared to go to that section, because it was populated with Deathclaws!
Now, nobody was sure what Deathclaws actually were. Some said it was a radiation-mutated geckos, the superstitious folks said they were ghosts, and the kids considered them the ultimate boogeymen. Nonetheless, everyone agreed that Deathclaws were extremely dangerous. Very few returned alive to tell their experience first-hand.
So maybe you would think, what the hell we were doing in the section? Why, for a game of hunting, of course! I've met some Deathclaws before, and they were flesh and blood alright. And since nobody said that Deathclaws were endangered species, I believed it was open season all the time.
Ah, but a good hunter needed to prepare my weapons, right? Since I already wore the combat armor uniform, I think there would be no better accessories to complement my attire with assault rifle and rocket launcher. And thus, I readied them both.
Readying my gear.
Both Ian and Katja were handgun experts, so I armed them with the best pistols I could find on the wasteland. Ian was armed with .223 pistol --a souvenir we got from a farmer whom we helped to get rid his house of Raiders. The .223 pistol was such a great weapon; it was a handgun re-chambered to accept rifle munitions! A truly work of art, I must say, and it had such a very long range for a pistol. Katja got 14mm pistol; the next best handgun could be found on the wasteland. The 14mm was even better than an SMG in dealing damages to the target.
Tycho, the Desert Ranger, was really good with shotguns and rifles, but he always preferred the former. I had to take all the shotgun shells from his pockets in order to convince him that .233 sniper rifle was much, much better. And yet, he fought better with sniper rifle indeed. But when I think about it again, I believe he still missed his combat shotgun.
So we were ready; I slung the rocket launcher over my shoulder, looking for our trophy. I didn't have to look that far, though, as a Deathclaw was spotted next to a nearby building.
Have rocket launcher, will hunt.
The Deathclaw seemed to ignore us. In fact, it turned it back on us. Big mistake. I aimed the rocket launcher carefully. Ready... aim... fire!
Ready... aim... fire...
The rocket was flying in its trajectory....
..and KABOOOM! Ouch, that was gonna hurt!
The fairy tales were true; a Deathclaw's skin is as thick as any armor. I was using Armor Piercing rocket, but it did not kill the beast. If anything, the Deathclaw was very, very pissed. It came right to our position, and I salivated nervously, immediately retreated behind Ian.
Dogmeat, on the other hand, was intrepid as always. He fearlessly approached the Deathclaw, eager to sink his teeth.
The very intrepid Dogmeat.
But before Dogmeat was still on his way, Ian quickly drawn his .223 pistol and took his turn. Poor Dogmeat, Ian beat him to it.
Nice shot, Ian!
It seemed Tycho did not want to mis the party either. Exclaiming "have a nice day", he pumped out several shots with his sniper rifle. While my squadmates were busy, I gradually retreated to safer position, buying some distance.
And you too, Tycho.
The Deathclaw was getting closer, and it seemed the beast was after Katja. I readied my rocket launcher again, aimed carefully to not hit Katja.
Aiming my rocket launcher...
And bullseye!
..and KABOOM again.
The Deathclaw was still alive. It seemed the beast died really hard. Katja did not give it a chance though. A single 14mm rounds was pumped into the Deathclaw's body, doing really serious damage.
Katja's turn...
Finally, Dogmeat got his turn. Just few bites, and the Deathclaw was crippled in the right arm. Sometimes I thought Dogmeat was even more scary than a Deathclaw.
...and Dogmeat's. Good dog, good dog.
I was right when I said the Deathclaw was really pissed, but I was wrong when I said the Deathclaw went after Katja. Nope, it went after ME, and it managed to get reaaaaally close. Uh-oh.
Uh-oh. Uh-fucking-oh.
While I have pretty high Perception, Charisma, and Luck, I have such low Endurance. If the Deathclaw managed to land his claws on me, it would live up its namesake. I quickly switched to assault rifle. I chose not to spray bullets in panic, though, since it would probably hit my squadmates as well. Instead, I made an aimed shot to its left leg, hoping it would be crippled enough to buy me some distance.
Aming at the leg....
...and blam!
Well, I guess I was lucky, huh? The shot did not only cripple the Deathclaw, but killed it as well. Whew! That was fucking close.
It was dead! Dead!
So there we were, gathering around our trophy. I wondered what the people in the Hub would say when we shared the story later. Hmmm... maybe we could sell the carcass to Bob. Deathclaw-on-a-stick, anyone?
Our trophy.
===================================
Systems:
MSI Wind U100 netbook.
Windows XP Home SP3.
XVI32 Hex Editor.
Fallout with the folowing patches and mods:
- Fallout_1_TeamX_Patch_ENG_1.2w
- f1child_patch
- fallup13 from TeamX
- f1npcmod
- High Resolution Patch (v1.3)
I considered myself lucky; after roaming the wasteland for some time, there was a nice trader in a town named the Hub. Among his junks, there was a really cool thing called 'combat armor', which was probably the closest thing to the military uniform I saw in the magazines. There was also an even cooler thing named 'assault rifle'. Hey, just because I'm a pro-gay rights, pro-science, pro-tax left winger, it doesn't mean I do not love guns. In fact, I do love them. The bigger, the better. Guns, guns, guns. Hell yeah!
Ah, but back to the adventure, I also met several companions, namely Ian, Tycho, Katja, and Dogmeat. The last was a dog, and a very good one. People were afraid for him, but I won his affection with Iguana-On-A-Stick. By the way, unlike other adventurers in the wasteland out there, I didn't called me and my companions a 'party'; I'd rather call them 'special forces' instead, and for good reason.
Wasteland Special Forces
The old photograph above shows me and my team. I was, of course, the guy wearing the combat armor, with green camouflage uniform and cool-looking military helmet. If you don't recognize the short-haired fellow in metallic armor, it was Ian. Yup, I managed to convince him to switch his leather jacket with something better, as well as convincing him to have a haircut! I alsoconvinced Katja to wear leather armor and do away with her mohawks, and she actually looked prettier that way. Tycho and Dogmeat were the only ones who did not change their appearance.
But before continuning with my story, let me tell me more about myself. I was already a 35 years old when the Overseer sent me to find the water-chip, and even today, I still wonder why he didn't choose younger, more fit candidates. The more I think about it, the more I believe that he chose me because I suffer from a genetic disorder called Hexadecimal Editing Syndrome. As the result, I have more beneficial physical attributes than average person, especially Perception, Charisma, and Luck --and I'm not a Gifted person!
Uh, yes, I'm a hexadecimal mutant freak. See my S.P.E.C.I.A.L attributes if you don't believe me.
I think the most valued attribute is my Luck. See, just few days after my exploration through the wasteland, I found a truck which contained a lot of bottle caps, which translated to currency in such post-nuclear civilization. So yes, I was filthy rich!
Rich, rich, rich!
Ah, but let me tell you about what me and my Special Forces team were doing down there. You see, it was a pretty large town named L.A. Boneyard, which I believed to be the remains of the pre-war city named Los Angeles. There was a section in the town people called 'Warehouse', and the section was pretty much uninhabited. In fact, nobody dared to go to that section, because it was populated with Deathclaws!
Now, nobody was sure what Deathclaws actually were. Some said it was a radiation-mutated geckos, the superstitious folks said they were ghosts, and the kids considered them the ultimate boogeymen. Nonetheless, everyone agreed that Deathclaws were extremely dangerous. Very few returned alive to tell their experience first-hand.
So maybe you would think, what the hell we were doing in the section? Why, for a game of hunting, of course! I've met some Deathclaws before, and they were flesh and blood alright. And since nobody said that Deathclaws were endangered species, I believed it was open season all the time.
Ah, but a good hunter needed to prepare my weapons, right? Since I already wore the combat armor uniform, I think there would be no better accessories to complement my attire with assault rifle and rocket launcher. And thus, I readied them both.
Readying my gear.
Both Ian and Katja were handgun experts, so I armed them with the best pistols I could find on the wasteland. Ian was armed with .223 pistol --a souvenir we got from a farmer whom we helped to get rid his house of Raiders. The .223 pistol was such a great weapon; it was a handgun re-chambered to accept rifle munitions! A truly work of art, I must say, and it had such a very long range for a pistol. Katja got 14mm pistol; the next best handgun could be found on the wasteland. The 14mm was even better than an SMG in dealing damages to the target.
Tycho, the Desert Ranger, was really good with shotguns and rifles, but he always preferred the former. I had to take all the shotgun shells from his pockets in order to convince him that .233 sniper rifle was much, much better. And yet, he fought better with sniper rifle indeed. But when I think about it again, I believe he still missed his combat shotgun.
So we were ready; I slung the rocket launcher over my shoulder, looking for our trophy. I didn't have to look that far, though, as a Deathclaw was spotted next to a nearby building.
Have rocket launcher, will hunt.
The Deathclaw seemed to ignore us. In fact, it turned it back on us. Big mistake. I aimed the rocket launcher carefully. Ready... aim... fire!
Ready... aim... fire...
The rocket was flying in its trajectory....
..and KABOOOM! Ouch, that was gonna hurt!
The fairy tales were true; a Deathclaw's skin is as thick as any armor. I was using Armor Piercing rocket, but it did not kill the beast. If anything, the Deathclaw was very, very pissed. It came right to our position, and I salivated nervously, immediately retreated behind Ian.
Dogmeat, on the other hand, was intrepid as always. He fearlessly approached the Deathclaw, eager to sink his teeth.
The very intrepid Dogmeat.
But before Dogmeat was still on his way, Ian quickly drawn his .223 pistol and took his turn. Poor Dogmeat, Ian beat him to it.
Nice shot, Ian!
It seemed Tycho did not want to mis the party either. Exclaiming "have a nice day", he pumped out several shots with his sniper rifle. While my squadmates were busy, I gradually retreated to safer position, buying some distance.
And you too, Tycho.
The Deathclaw was getting closer, and it seemed the beast was after Katja. I readied my rocket launcher again, aimed carefully to not hit Katja.
Aiming my rocket launcher...
And bullseye!
..and KABOOM again.
The Deathclaw was still alive. It seemed the beast died really hard. Katja did not give it a chance though. A single 14mm rounds was pumped into the Deathclaw's body, doing really serious damage.
Katja's turn...
Finally, Dogmeat got his turn. Just few bites, and the Deathclaw was crippled in the right arm. Sometimes I thought Dogmeat was even more scary than a Deathclaw.
...and Dogmeat's. Good dog, good dog.
I was right when I said the Deathclaw was really pissed, but I was wrong when I said the Deathclaw went after Katja. Nope, it went after ME, and it managed to get reaaaaally close. Uh-oh.
Uh-oh. Uh-fucking-oh.
While I have pretty high Perception, Charisma, and Luck, I have such low Endurance. If the Deathclaw managed to land his claws on me, it would live up its namesake. I quickly switched to assault rifle. I chose not to spray bullets in panic, though, since it would probably hit my squadmates as well. Instead, I made an aimed shot to its left leg, hoping it would be crippled enough to buy me some distance.
Aming at the leg....
...and blam!
Well, I guess I was lucky, huh? The shot did not only cripple the Deathclaw, but killed it as well. Whew! That was fucking close.
It was dead! Dead!
So there we were, gathering around our trophy. I wondered what the people in the Hub would say when we shared the story later. Hmmm... maybe we could sell the carcass to Bob. Deathclaw-on-a-stick, anyone?
Our trophy.
===================================
Systems:
MSI Wind U100 netbook.
Windows XP Home SP3.
XVI32 Hex Editor.
Fallout with the folowing patches and mods:
- Fallout_1_TeamX_Patch_ENG_1.2w
- f1child_patch
- fallup13 from TeamX
- f1npcmod
- High Resolution Patch (v1.3)
