Ugly Kid
Still Mildly Glowing

Curious as to how others feel about it because I have a bit to say myself. Do you dislike it? Are you fine with it? Why yes and why no?
Yeah, and don’t forget about Darion, who is also around 100 years old and is still a competent fighter. And they also originally planned on having Ian in the game too, whom would presumably be even older. Add on the fact that ZAX says in the first game that Super Mutant lifespans shouldn’t be more than 10% longer than a standard human lifespan, so all the Super Mutants should be dead by Fallout 2. But I don’t mind that retcon as much.I also think Tandi, your average human wastelander, being over 100 years old is far fetched
When you put it that way it makes a lot of sense. Do you think there could be any way we could reduce the time and still have the tribal religions?It was probably so Arroyo would have had plenty of time to forget life in the vaults and become true tribal. So there would be no one alive that came from the Vault, as to justify why they all forgot tech and all of that stuff.
If it was only 40 years, there would be people in Arroyo who knew the Vault Dweller and/or people that were still originally from the vault, so the whole "mystic sacred GECK object" wouldn't make any sense anymore, they would know what a GECK was and the tribe wouldn't have had time to devolve into a "sacred mystical magic tech" culture.
It's kinda explained why and how it happened in the "Vault Dweller's memoirs":Also does anyone else find it strange that a bunch of vault dwellers made their own tribe from the ground up? Joining a tribe instead makes more sense to me.
Vault Dweller's memoirs said:My Return to Vault 13
I was not treated to a hero's welcome when I returned to Vault 13. The Overseer met me outside the massive Vault door, and told me point blank that while my services to the Vault will always be remembered, he could no longer trust me or what I had become. He said something along the lines that I had saved the Vault, and now I must leave. Bastard.
And so, I left.
The days and weeks that followed were hard on me. I had met few true friends outside the Vault, and they had died following me. Now, my family had kicked me out and said that I could never return. I screamed. I cried. Slowly I came to realize that the Overseer may have been correct. I had changed. Life outside the Vault was different, and now I, too, was different. But I have never forgiven him for doing what he did to me.
I wandered the desert, but never moved far from the mountains that shielded the Vault from the rest of the world. Perhaps I wanted to return, and force my way in, or plead for them to take me back. Fortunately, it did not come to that. I found a few wretched souls, a small group of Vault dwellers, who upon hearing of what happened to me, had decided to leave the Vault and join my side. They knew little of the outside world, and would have died if it were not for my assistance.
Together, our little group moved north, away from the Vault, and away from that old life. Slowly, I taught them what experience had taught me. And together we learned to thrive.
The Tribe
Over time, our ragtag group turned into a tribe. I fell in love with one of them, and we raised a family, like all of our tribes people.
We founded the Village, beyond the great cliff. It is a secure home thanks to our hard work. We would send scouts back towards the Vault, to help others who thought like ourselves, but that slowly came to an end. We no longer head in that direction. I often wonder what became of Vault 13, and the other Vaults, but I never had the time to go exploring again.
I taught the others the skills they would need to survive and grow strong. Hunting, farming and other skills to feed us. Engineering and science to build our homes. Fighting to protect what was ours.
My love and I led the village and the Tribe. The Tribe grew, and grew strong with our help. But all things come to an end. Our sons and daughters are now the leaders. I'm sure that the Tribe will continue to grow strong under the leadership of our children.
My love perished years ago, and not a day goes by that I do not think of Pat's face. I see it every time I look at our children. This journal is our legacy to them, to their children, and to the rest of the Tribe. That is my story, and I am sticking to it.
-The Wanderer
164 years is a perfect amount of time after the war to explain the existence of tribals and why they’ve reverted so hard back to primitive beings (which some people already don’t like/find realistic, so halving the time skip to 40 years only would be even harder for people to believe).