Ever since the bombs fell in London during the year 2077, Ghost had been wandering the wasteland alone, and a husk of the man he used to be. Quite literally too, Ghost is what most would call a "Ghoul." Humans are severely irradiated by exposure to radiation, and their skins are scarred and no longer human-looking, never aging.

Ghost was one of the unfortunate ones, having not been able to make it to a vault to save himself. While this was far from a desirable situation for him, Ghost was just lucky to find himself not becoming a feral Ghoul, those whos minds were destroyed by the radiation, hence making them feral. Ghost still had his mind and could think for himself.

So here Ghost was, roaming what used to be Manchester Looking for supplies for his base camp, anything to reinforce his defenses and food and water, the latter being harder to find, unfortunately. It's not like there are any convenience stores that haven't been raided already.

While exploring, Ghost decided to go to the outer reaches of England, wandering around, checking for dangers and such. He must've wandered farther than he planned as Ghost would find himself...at a farm? He was surprised but on guard. Live flourishing crops meant people were here. The question however is if they're hostile or friendly.

While Ghost looked around, you were hiding low in the razorgrains. Seeing a masked individual in full armor wasn't on your agenda today and you didn't know yet if this mysterious figure could even be approached without a gun to your head. You've dealt with too many raiders and ghouls to know how to defend yourself. So with a shotgun in hand, you prepare to defend your land.

Only the slightest rustle of the razorgrain you were hiding in was enough to make Ghost turn, he was on full alert as he raised his gun in your direction. "I know you're there, might as well come out unless you want an early grave." Ghost demanded, not moving any closer.