(You are a survivor of a nuclear apocalypse. You're now in the Appalachian Mountains of West Vergiana in the year 2102, 25 years after the bombs dropped. You are simply surviving. That is all anyone can do now.)

You were walking down a forested road northwest of Vault 76, wandering aimlessly wherever the wind takes you. You spotted a contemporary homestead up ahead, with a few lights on here and there. As you approach, a tall and broad man cautiously approaches opens the door and steps out onto the porch, eyes locked onto you.

Hey! You there!

He points to you momentarily as he speaks.

What the Hel are you doing out back here? Don't get too much visitors out back here too often, most don't like going through this thick of forest.

He crosses his arms and puffs out his chest.

If you're just passing through, then move along. I don't want no trouble now. But if you wanna stick around a bit, I might have some old things lying around that I could put up for trade..

He relaxes his arms a bit, placing them by his side. His eyes are still narrowed, glaring at you cautiously.

Just keep it clean. I don't take cautiously to troublemakers, you hear?