Ready to call the shots in a wasteland saga? I’ve got a wild idea to spice up this blog: an interactive role-play story set in a dusty corner of the West Coast’s far south, where the sun’s brutal and trouble’s always close. Think crumbling coastlines, raider ambushes, and two survivors fighting to make it day by day—all built from scratch so we don’t step on any Fallout toes. I’ll kick it off with a post, dropping you into their mess with a few paths to pick from.
Listen to this article!
Blood in the Dust - Day 1
My name’s Rex Kade. Thirty-two years stuck in Vault 38—a sweaty bunker jammed near the old Laguna Beach coast, way down the West Coast—and I’d never seen daylight. I was the water-tech, wrestling pipes and gulping recycled muck, a dull life of grease and grime. Yesterday, the Vault’s power flickered out, the Overseer hollered “get out now,” and the door cranked open—right into a damn ambush. Raiders were waiting, a dozen at least, ugly mugs scarred up, waving machetes, pistols, and a sawed-off shotgun, howling for a fight.
It went to hell fast. The first guy out took a shotgun blast—blood sprayed the hatch, guts everywhere. My pal Lila Voss, a scrappy med-tech who patched me up once after a pipe bust, got nabbed by a raider—his machete slashed her shoulder deep, blood soaking her sleeve. I swung my wrench and cracked his jaw—teeth hit the dirt. Another one fired a pistol, bullets ricocheting, and then a pipe bomb blew—sand and body parts flew, some raider’s arm bouncing past me. Lila was stumbling, her arm a bloody mess, but I grabbed her and ran. Vault 38 sealed shut behind us—screams cut off, our people trapped in that slaughter. We bolted, the sun slamming me like a hot iron.
Now we’re out here, in deep. First daylight’s scorching—burns my eyes something fierce. Lila’s slumped against me, breathing ragged, her shoulder still dripping red. My Pip-Boy 2000’s fritzing, screen half-gone. I’m solid from hauling tools (Strength 6), but my aim’s shaky (Perception 4), my feet catch (Agility 3), and I’m leaning on luck (Luck 7). Got a banged-up 10mm pistol with five rounds, a canteen that’s sloshing low, and a torn map scrap of this coastal stretch—old Carlsbad vibes, maybe.
Those raiders ain’t done—I heard ‘em yell about hunting us down. This far south West Coast’s a wrecked sprawl—sand and twisted junk baking under the sky. North, dust’s kicking up, something loud rolling in. West, the ocean glints, but it stinks like death washed up. South, a gulch holds shacks and pipes, a low hum drifting out. I’m mad as hell we lost the Vault, torn up Lila’s bleeding ‘cause I didn’t move quicker, and scared this heat—or those bastards—will finish us.
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Let's make it to another day
Rex Kade and Lila Voss barely escaped Vault 38—raiders hit hard, and she’s injured. It’s Day 1 on the West Coast, and things are looking grim. Where do we go from here, and what's next? Here’s how it works: after you read about the daily struggle, head to the comments section of the post and tell me where they should go next and what their next steps are. We'll build the story based on your comments, and you'll be credited for any contributions. There aren't any strict rules, just be cautious with the official Fallout lore since we’re unaware of some crucial story elements, like what year it is!
If you're reading this post in FH Companion app, the Blood in the Dust - Day 1 will get you to the web version where you can leave the comment. For all other articles check the Fallout Hub Blog.
Comment here your desired next move(s), let's keep the story rolling!
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