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Summary Edit

Erik Veras is a seasoned wanderer of the waste and has had traveled all around the remains of post war America. Born in 2266 He grew up in the Mojave Wasteland with his family and lived the typical life of a rancher until he was around the age of 16 when he grew tired of the "family business" of farming. Since his departure from his home he has spent his time wandering the lands of the Mojave and beyond adventuring to his heart's content.

Erik Veras
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Biography
Born 2266 (21 as of 2287)
Race Caucasian
Affiliation Settlers and fellow travelers
Role Survivalist/Traveler and Mercenary (on occasion)
Location Varies
Statistics
Level 20
S.P.E.C.I.A.L. 5 Strength, 5 Perception, 6 Endurance, 7 Charisma, 6 Intelligence, 5 Agility, and 6 Luck
Skills Guns (85), Survival (70), and Repair (65)
Perks Trigger Discipline, Lady Killer, and Animal Friend
Derived stats 200 HP and 80 AP

History Edit

His time spent wandering the wasteland has been a quite noteworthy one. He started his journey with nothing but an old family bolt action rifle, some worn rancher's garments, and a meager supply of food. He set off from his home into the waste around the area surrounding The Strip as he dreamed of setting foot in the city of lights one day. Determined to reach the luxury of Vegas he trekked through the expansive desert with his eyes set on the gilded city that seemed to be but a mirage in the distance.

Nearly three quarters of the way to Vegas Veras would do something he had never done before. He was forced to fend for his life against a brigand and had to resort to killing his attacker. This was a shocking event for Veras. Not only was he quickly familiarized with the brutality of the Waste as the assailant who beset him was covered in the hide of slain people but he had been forced to take another human life.

The optimistic Erik soon fell into a state of depression and gave up on his journey of reaching The Strip. He sought now only to drown his sorrows in fountains of whiskey. Far from his home he could not turn back so he walked until he came upon a shanty labeled "General Store". He decided whether or not there was a person in the store there would surely be some liquor to mask the pain.

*More Soon*

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