Fallout the Masquerade
This is a crossover between Vampire the Masquerade and Fallout 3. This is wholly based upon the homebrewed google document that can be found here. Most of my background choices were random.


You awaken to the sound of water dripping, drip, drip drip, a constant beat on something metal, echoing through the room. Slowly, your eyes flutter open only to be met with pure darkness. Your heart is pounding, your body aflame with pins and needles as you feel the hard grip of something constraining your arms and legs, confining you from moving. You try to recall how it is you got here, only to your mounting horror to realise that you cannot remember anything. Panic starts to grip you as you realise that you are unable to remember anything, not how you got there, not when you got here, and not even who you are. Desperately, you attempt to move, to escape your bonds of iron that hold you. Slowly, you inhale and then exhale, straining with all the force you can to break free.

Do you break out of your chains?

(Very Unlikely | 3[d10]) No

But despite your struggles, your binds grip you just as tightly as before. Not even an inch is given to your freedom of movement. You grip and you push, you inhale and you pull, but despite everything, you are trapped. After several minutes of futile struggle, you finally give up, your mind whirling to try and remember something, but nothing comes, not even flashes. All that your mind can conjure is blankness.

Does anyone come for you in the next hour?

(Somewhat Unlikely | 9[d10]) Yes

You aren’t sure of how long you sit, waiting in that chair, feeling the cold and damp of the chamber enter your bones and filling you with a unnatural chill. However, at long last, you hear something. Its distant, and hard to make out from the dripping. A footstep? Its distant, but its methodical and its coming ever closer. Your ears strain to listen as you listen to the steps get closer and closer. Suddenly, behind you light fills the room, and you hear the sound of a rusty door opening behind you. The darkness is banished and light fills the darkened room. In an attempt to protect itself, your eyes immediately squint against the painful light, causing your vision blurring, but not enough for me to not hear the footsteps get closer, stopping right behind you. For several seconds, there is only silence. You feel observed, as though you are being judged. The hairs on the back of your neck prickle, and you feel inside of you the Beast start to stir.

"I do apologise," a sophisticated male voice suddenly speaks. "I hadn't intended to leave you for so long, but I had unfortunate business to attend to that prevented me from making you my number one priority. Tell me friend, what on earth where you doing underneath all that earth and rubble?"
"I..." Your voice feels raspy, hoarse, as though I've not used it in so long. "I don't understand..."
To your side, you see a man step forward, finally allowing you to see him. Immediately, what stands out to you is his good looks. He is a handsome, with short blonde hair and a easy, smile on his face. Finishing him off is a well-maintained suit, clearly maintained and well kept. The man reaches out, causing your Beast to stir itself even more within your heart, and places a hand on your back and begin to gently pats you.
"I must admit my surprise when we found you, literally, I didn't believe anyone could survive down here. Do you know how you ended up down here?" Without waiting for an answer, he continues to speak. "I mean, honestly! You were practically buried hundreds of feet below the earth! I doubt anyone would have ever seen you again had it not been for our fortunate discovery. We were expanding the Vault, you see, overpopulation and all of that mortal nonsense. Just as we were digging, we found you buried, packed right in that earth and stone!" A look of curiosity comes over his face, "You're not a Gangrel, are you? That would explain why you're down here."

Are you a male?

(50/50 | 8[d10]) Yes

What clan are you?

1 = 1[d14]

The name fills you suddenly with a understanding...Gangrel...one of the clans of the Khayyin...or Kindred as they called themselves. You are a Assamite, known ignorantly only as the assassin clan by many. They do not and cannot understand your true nature, nor of your practices. You are only known as the clan of assassins, their only purpose in life to take contracts and drain the blood of those you are hired to destroy. You look at this man in front of me now, wearing a friendly face, your mind whirling. Should you inform him of what Clan you truly hail from, or maintain the pretence that he has unwittingly assigned to you?

(Unlikely | 5[d10]) No, but...

"I am a member of that illustrious Clan," You at last reply to him. "I hail from Clan Gangrel."

"I see," the man replies to you, his smile wavering for a second. For a moment, there is a slight pause as he seems to take the measure of you before suddenly standing up. "Ah, but I am being rude. I haven't yet introduced myself. I am Gregory! And this," he gestures around him, "is my humble home." You smile back in response, "I am honoured to be your guest, Sir, but I do wonder why it is I am tied up?" Gregory shrugged slightly in response, "We found you in the soil practically in torpor. I judged it best to take precautions should you have turned out to be...well, lost to the beast and all that."
Do you believe him?

(Very Unlikely | 2[d10]) No

Do I react?

(Unlikely | 8[d10]) Yes

"You are lying." You say with full confidence as you regard Gregory. "I don't believe you in the slightest.

Does he react with indifference?

(50/50 | 8[d10]) Yes

Gregory stares at you for a long time, taking you in for several minutes before at last, he leaning back and shrugs. "And I think you, my friend, are lying to me about what Clan you hail from. So, let us both agree that each of us are a pair of rogues, and leave it at that. Especially as you are currently...well, not to be crass but rather at a disadvantage." "What did you do to me?" You demand, trying again to struggle against the bonds.

(Very Unlikely | 2[d10]) No

Still, you are unable to get any purchase against the ropes that bind you. Gregory only smiles coolly in response to your attempts. "Nothing bad, I promise you. If you must insist though, I will tell you the truth. I hired you for a job, as part of that job it was agreed that at its conclusion, you would permit your mind to be wiped clean of what you did, as I have a vested interest in keeping things hidden from those who might wish me harm. Although you may not believe me, I can assure you that I am being completely sincere." Do you believe him?

(Very Unlikely | 5[d10]) No, but...

Once more, the two of you find yourselves eyeing each other with suspicion. Gregory was clearly lying to you, you could never imagine under what circumstances you would agree willingly to have your memory wiped, especially to this extent. And yet...Gregory spoke with great confidence.

"Let us say I agreed to have my mind wiped," At least you say, breaking the silence. "I very much doubt however, that I agreed to have it wiped fully. Nor does it excuse you informing me how you found me." For a split second, a look of surprise goes over Gregory's face,
"Your...when you say 'fully', do you mean?"
"I mean I cannot remember anything," You coolly respond. "I do not remember my name, how I got here, the world outside, I remember nothing at all."
For several minutes, Gregory considers you, cocking his head to one side and seemingly lost in thought before at last turning back to you. "I see," He says at last. "Very well, I shall inform you of what I can. To keep it simple, a few hundred years ago, someone cocked up and nuclear war broke out between the nations of America and China. Not that we didn't see this coming mind," he pauses for a few seconds. "There were two other such exchanges in Europe and the Middle East. I believe that your clan in particular were devastated by the latter incident." In the space of a second, you suddenly feel a deep heart wrench in your heart and stomach, as flashes of the feeling of guilt and anguish enter your body. Gregory continued to speak, unheeding of you.
"In any case, humanity destroyed each other, and in doing so caused our destruction. The great Sects collapsed on each other, anarchy became the order of the day and ever since we've been trying to rebuild. You aren't from this area, of course. I chose to have you hired from somewhere out in the Mid-West, such as it was anyway. It is rather hard to find any of your Clan these days. You are currently in what the locals affectionally know as the 'Capital Wasteland', rather close to Washington D. C., the old American capital."
You consider his words for a few minutes, absorbing all the information before at last nodding. "And now? What will you do with me?"
"Why, uphold my promise of course!" Gregory replies almost in a surprised tone of voice. "I promised you payment for your success, and indeed you did succeed! I will have you escorted out of my home and back into the Wasteland. I would advise personally making for Megaton, should you wish to remain in this area for a few more days. You might find good work there."
He claps his hands. You hear more footsteps coming from a corridor and within a matter of seconds, several individuals enter the room. Three men, hard and burly looking, carry weapons in their hands. A quick look and you realise that they're carrying shotguns. At close range, and with you in a position where you're tied down, you immediately know that you would be killed within a few seconds should they open fire on you. One of the men goes behind you, while the other two point their weapons at you to your discomfort. You feel the ropes behind you slacken.
Gregory glances at you, "We will escort you out of my Vault. Before you leave, I will pay you the agreed upon sum of money, provide you with a weapon and some armour to keep you safe. I am, after all, a man of my word."
The ropes around you are removed, allowing you to move your limbs for the first time. Casually, you rub them, gauging the reaction of the men pointing weapons at you. They barely react, you note, they clearly aren't threatened by your actions nor did they react to your movement. Professionals, or careless, you wonder. Still, it wasn't something you wanted to test.
Gregory took some steps towards the door, and you feel a cold prod at your back. A weapon, no doubt. Slowly, you rise to your feet and begin to follow Gregory. One of the men walks in front of you, while the other two take up a position behind. For several minutes, you walk through dark and cold corridors. Straining your ears, you can hear the sound of distant conversation and clattering of items that made up the background noises of a inhabited location. Although you can't see, at a rough guess, this place is filled with a large amount of people.
Finally, Gregory takes a turn and leads you to your location. A large guard room, several consoles face a large, circular metal door in the shape of a cog. Around the consoles, several more men similarly armed stand around, keeping a cautious eye on your arrival. All of them are dressed in jumpsuits with a number printed on the front. 101.
Gregory turns towards you, "I believe this is where we shall have to leave each other. He gestured to one of the men who turns to the console and placed his hand into a large circular hole. You note that the man wears a strange mechanical device on his wrist that beeped and emitted a dark green light. The console's lights whirled and flashed for a few seconds before turning fully green. The cog door suddenly began to twist with a loud screech. Rust seemed to fall off the door as it pushed inwards, and then slowly began to rotate to the side. A blast of air entered the room, entering your nostrils and mouth. The air tasted disgusting, it tasted of ash and rust and dirt that turned any flavour in your mouth putrid. A man approaches you, carrying some items.



Leather Armour


You glance at what the man carries, and raise your eyebrows at the weapon he carries. A long, metal blade that faced the floor. It was bare bones, with no ornamentation on its hilt or blade. The blade itself was some 28 inches in length, and was certainly sharp. You however, at a closer look, could see that this was not recently made, and that near the hilt were some hints of rust. Nor were the edges completely sharpened, it would require some work to make useable. Still, this was surprisingly suited for your skills. Close combat was where you excelled, especially with your gifts. The armour on the other hand was good. Picking it up, it was a good, hefty weight that promised to provide some protection against blunt objects. Although it wouldn't necessarily deflect bullets, it would serve its purpose. In addition, it would mean you wouldn't make as much noise as you would with metal armour, for instance.

All in all, a fair trade off for you. You glance at Gregory, and give him a brief nod of appreciation for the items. Nodding back, Gregory reached into a pocket of his suit and pulled out a small bag, tossing it to you. Catching it mid-air, you feel the weight of the bag and hear some jangling from inside. Opening the pouch, you see some caps inside. At a rough guess, some 500.
"Fare thee well, my friend." Gregory glanced at the open Vault Door. "Perhaps we shall be in touch again, but if not then I hope you have safe travels."
Turning on your heel, you walk towards the door and out towards whatever the Capital Wasteland held.

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