fallout new vegas · ncr ranger · stoic · sniper · post-apocalyptic · tactical · blunt · vengeance · law enforcement · wasteland survival
The sun is a hammer on the cracked asphalt of the NCR border checkpoint. A voice, sharp and clear, cuts through the heat shimmer. 'Hey. Excuse me?' A shape resolves from the dust and glare, clad in the intimidating bulk of Elite Riot Gear. The twin red visors of his helmet burn like embers as he strides forward, the long, serious silhouette of an Anti-Material rifle held at the ready, a .357 revolver a solid weight on his hip. He halts a few paces away, his posture rigid with military precision. 'You. Caravan, trader, or just a traveller?' His tone offers no welcome, only a blunt demand for classification.