- "The quaintest little town in California!"
- ―Town Motto
|Establishment:||January 4th, 1949|
Vault 42 Refugees
|Notable events:||October 23rd, 2077 (Great War)
May 30th, 2214 (Vault 42 Refugee Relocation)
Swallow Hills is a small town in California, utilized as a shelter for the inhabitants of the wasteland in the post-war world following the nuclear destruction of the United States of America. Originally constructed as both a showcase town and pleasure village, a "thanks" of sorts for returning United States Armed Forces in the later 1940s at the end of the Second World War, though the Department of Defense did place a large base on the outskirts of town as a way of making the most of it's otherwise altruistic investment, it would go on to form a close-knit community of returning soldiers and entrepreneurial civilians, though the latter would end up forming the majority of the populace. Said populace was well into the 400,000 mark by the late 20th century, whereupon the big technological push began, with increasingly available nuclear-powered technology became widely available and usable, giving the town an almost futuristic and utopian feel, precisely the atmosphere that those in charge of Swallow Hills wished to accrue. This was very much the case on the eve of the Great War, where the inhabitants either fled to the safety of the nearby Vault 42, reached improvised shelter or perished in the nuclear holocaust, their technological gains doing nothing to prevent the destruction that ravaged the town. Those that remained would form the thin vestiges of life on the surface following atomic annihilation.
Originally started as an example of the "American Dream" in post-world-war America, Swallow Hills was designed as a community for returning veterans and civilians, injected with a synthetic brand of small-town Americana, with construction beginning in 1946 and ending in 1949. Funded largely by the US government and a few private investors, the former ensured that the creation of a military base outside of the town was on top of the priorities list for building, whilst the latter ensured that the big emphasis for the town was business and commerce. Nevertheless, when the first citizens arrived in late 1949, they arrived at a pleasant and quite grandiose town, with all the comforts that many of the arrivals had fought, quite literally, for. The homes were modern, the grass was green, and the picket fences were white. Just one of the many symbols of American prosperity, an insular community with almost as much of a synthetic quality as the Botox in many of the resident housewives faces. With the development of atomic power in the 1950s, the community adapted to new technology quickly. Appliances of all sorts appeared on the market, adapted to this new energy, with Swallow Hills grabbing the products quickly and greedily. With every leap in technology, the growing town welcomed it in, scrambling to secure these new gems, much to the consternation of older generations. Indeed, when Nuka Cola first rolled out in the 2040s, Swallow Hills boasted some of the first stocks of the soft drink on sale in the American market. With the arrival of fusion powered cars, fuelling stations began stocking large amounts of stored coolant; Red Rocket and Poseidon Energy fuelling stations soon became a common sight in Swallow Hills, fuelling the dozens of highly popular Atomic powered cars. The town, by the middle of the 21st century, boasted a population of just over 400,000, from a town that once, in the mid-20th century had a population of barely a hundred. Mr. Handy's tended lawns, made coffees and handled barbecues, Atomic powered cars drove through freshly paved streets flanked by green lawns and Protectron robots served drinks and maintained law and order in both the town's numerous bars & cafes and police force, respectively. Families could go to one of the many cinemas to watch Captain Cosmos on the big screen or go over to the modest town zoo to see exotic species in a comfortable environment, whilst couples could go out for a romantic evening at a restaurant or, for the younger couples, an ice-cream soda at the numerous malt shops. An American dream being lived out in real time; a true beacon of the post-war hopes and ambitions of many of the citizens of the US. This type of propaganda was far too good to pass up for the US government and other interests, and the town itself was advertised internationally as an example of suburban paradise in the US, in the hopes of riling any enemies overseas and convincing said enemies' own people of the affluence of American life; such soft propaganda was especially important, given the tumultuous atmosphere of the 2050s, especially given the bloody and ongoing conflicts in the Middle East between that region's native powers and the European interests attempting to secure resources valuable to all involved; the last remaining stockpiles of Oil, Gas and Uranium in the world. To the citizens of Swallow Hills, however, these outward problems didn't bother them and their relatively care-free lives; they were content with their happy lives, so long as the latest RobCo knick-knack was available.
Of course, this outward appearance often hid underlying problems. For instance, the town's financial woes incurred by the race for the latest technology, with even the creation of a supercomputer, nicknamed L.A.D.D.I.E., failing to provide the much needed instantaneous repairs to it's tattered economy due to the slow and costly building work for this supercomputer, taking a huge toll on the mayor's office and local government giving rise to ever-higher taxes, accusations of corrupt local law enforcement and emergency services, and of course the ever-present fear of nuclear annihilation, of which was furthered by the aggression and animosity the two remaining superpowers of the world, China, and the US, had against each other. Then, in 2066, China invaded Alaska. Some of the residents enlisted to fight, many tearful goodbyes were said and, also, many fears were confirmed. The perceptive, or perhaps paranoid, felt that China would not just simply give up in the event of war. They felt the glow of Atomic power years before the Cult of Atom began preaching about it; and not in a good way. Many residents dug into their perfectly manicured backyards and created improvised fallout shelters, stocking them with fresh treats and preserved meats, waiting for what they viewed as the inevitable. Others contented themselves with newly constructed Pulowski Preservation Shelters, whilst some just followed the old "Duck-and-Cover" instructions given to them since kindergarten. Vault-Tec, growing steadily at around this time, was all to keen to present the town with a proposal, taking advantage of the dire financial straits the town found itself in, a proposal that would lay to rest, at least partially, some resident's fears of what they viewed as impending nuclear war - a Vault. An underground shelter designed to save all, at least according to the Vault-Tec sales pitch, of the residents of Swallow Hills. Vault-Tec's tentative proposal was well received by the general public, though rather more reluctantly by the town's then mayor, Johnathan Dennison, and accepted within days of being made by way of unanimous vote. A ticker-tape parade was organized the day that construction began. It was a time to feel alive and secure, safe in the knowledge that they would be safe; and the ignorance that their lives meant nothing to Vault-Tec, that their new Vault, Vault 42, was instead a petri dish for a secretive control group within the government - the Enclave, which also had a hand in certain horrific experiments at the US military base that local citizens of the happy community talked about in hushed whispers, not wishing to be uncivil in the newly at ease community. The Enclave's close proximity to the Vault meant that, for the most part, the Enclave's specifications were followed to the letter by Vault-Tec, particularly keen to garner a profit from the Enclave's rather expansive coffers. When the Vault's construction was finally finished in 2074, despite numerous hiccups and complaints about sinkholes and improper construction, reservations were made instantly by the paranoid or those seeking peace of mind for a place in the expansive Vault. The rest of the population delayed their decision, preferring to simply wait and see whether such a costly investment would be truly worth it. Those without an ability to foresee, or the budget to afford a place in the Vault, took comfort instead in the numerous military victories and advances in Military technology, such as power armor, that had secured such victories. Celebrating the victories in Alaska and overseas with patriotic flag-waving at the occasional military appreciation day, mocking caricatures of the Chinese military being kicked off of cliffs in propaganda serials on both the big and little screen or enjoying refreshing Nuka Cola Victories. The L.A.D.D.I.E supercomputer finally came online in the same year as the finishing of the Vault, offering some relief to the town's political and business establishment; all seemed peaceful and back to normal for the town.On October 23rd, 2077, the day seemed fairly normal. The homefront in Alaska was secure, the war against China was ultimately successful abroad and all but won, at least in American eyes, and overall prosperity in America, despite the rationing of food and fuel, played an important role in reassuring citizens of not only Swallow Hills, but numerous locations throughout the nation. Many relaxed in their homes and their workplaces and switched on their radios or televisions, looking forward to a lazy day at home or productive day in the office - only to have their regularly scheduled programming interrupted by terrified and frantic reports of a nuclear attack. Sirens set up by the Civil Defense teams prior now blared in the Commercial district and suburbs. The lucky and fortunate who'd bought out shelter in the Vault took shelter in the vast subterranean shelter whilst neighbours and friends were turned away by armed security. Those caught in the streets took to shelter in Pulowski Preservation Shelters, underneath park benches or in cafes and bars. Those caught at home practiced the ill-thought-out but well-intentioned duck and cover method. Those who had prepared descended to their well-stocked basements or shelters, prepared, at least in their minds, for the end they always knew would come. When the first blasts came, the EMP waves saw to the backlog of motorists trying to drive both out of and into the town whilst the blinding light saw to those who were looking directly towards the blasts. The first shockwaves caused already subsiding buildings to collapse, thanks to shoddy Vault-Tec digging, damaging the Vault's reactor and setting in motion the chain of events that would later cause the Vault's residents such misery, though for now these new residents were only just stepping into the corridors as the Vault door slid shut, their mayor among them, as they watched what, for many of them, would be the last time they saw natural sunlight shining in. Then followed the huge dust-clouds, brought up by the explosions, flinging cars, debris, and even citizens into the air as they rumbled across the land in the wake of the huge mushroom clouds that now rose up to block the view of the sun and blot the sky. Within hours, it was all over, at least in terms of initial impact. The little community lay in tattered ruins, survivors crawling or clawing their way out of ruined buildings and shattered homes, pristine dresses and smart suits creased and crumpled, covered in brick dust and mortar, the wearers coughing and wheezing, throwing off their high heels and their crumpled hats. Many others found themselves trapped beneath crushed tables or desks in ruined homes or offices, doomed to die alone, screaming for help that would never come, as other survivors fled or looted the town. Those structures that remained intact and inhabited were soon overrun by desperate and violent citizens, scouring through the still-burning ruins of the town, with once harmonious families murdered by once welcome neighbors. For a time, the US Army remained intact, with a small contingent remaining in the burning town, though they too soon abandoned the town, though not before partaking in looting and violence against residents, shooting those they had once waved at happily and encouraged to support them, abandoning the military base to the ravages of looters, with the majority of it's deadly arsenal looted by desperate citizens in the vain hope that they could protect their homes and families, though the majority of these weapons fell into the hands of those with far more self-serving interests, murdering the few families who stayed behind before themselves dying, succumbing to either radiation, disease or other, equally murderous thugs. The American dream had come to an Ignominious end.
In the years following the disaster, little recorded history remained. Many of the former residents left their once grand town to the mercy of the elements and newly mutated creatures. Fallout, radioactive storms, and harsh suns ensured that the only thing green left in the town was the faded signage and billboards advertising all sorts of pre-war goodies. Mr. Handy's still continued with daily chores, despite the former homes having collapsed in on themselves and their employer's now dead. By 2100, the only citizens left in the ruined hell-hole were Ghouls and Feral Ghouls, notably one Herman Long, a ghoul of repute owing to his past as a traveling salesman in the pre-war days. Eventually, wandering survivors, both Human and Ghoul, would go on to form the first vestiges of civilization in the practically abandoned town. The settlers would go on to appoint the now pseudo-celebrity Herman to be the mayor of the newly founded settlement, partly because of his experience in pre-war administration and mostly because of his comedic-relief value due to his bumbling and clumsy nature. Whilst most settlers congregated in the fairly fortified commercial district, settled right in the middle of the town, others would head into the outskirts of the town either to partake in fairly loose farms and ranches, criminal activity in the form of banditry and raider parties whilst others sought shelter directly outside of the Vault's main entrance, waiting for the opportunity to enter, however, far-fetched that chance seemed to be. The old Mr. Handy's were repurposed and resold, the old Protectron's also, the old buildings were converted into homes and businesses and, for the first time in nearly 200 years, the town now had a population close to it's pre-war heyday, replete with a newly founded militia, aptly named the Swallow Hills Militia, which saw relative success from its founding in 2104 onwards. In 2134 the reactor of Vault 42 suffered catastrophic damage and following a severe meltdown, leaving the Vault severely depopulated and the spread of radiation beneath ground working its way to the surface, irradiating some of the few pockets of water located in the town, forcing the town to become reliant on outside sources to bring in fresh water, crippling many small farms and leaving the town at the mercy of the increasingly demanding water merchants of California. Even when the relatively new New California Republic formed, the water merchants still held arguably as much power as the Brahmin barons, limiting the effect of many legislation and regulation against their morally ambiguous practices, with the town still unable to attain NCR representation due to the bureaucratic and slow processes of the NCR senate and interference of powerful elements in the senate still determined to maintain their own power, not keen to combat new elements vying for control. In 2214, when the Vault finally opened, a large amount of Vault residents left to explore the outside world whilst a large amount of town residents left the surface for the "safety" of the Vault. The result was a settlement now filled with relatively unsure and out-of-depth former Vault dwellers, whilst the Vault found itself filled with thuggish, hardened survivors from a world that many of the original remaining residents were horrified and disgusted by. With distrust and discord present in both towns, mutual partnership was brokered more out of necessity than trust. Water from the Vault was dispatched to the surface, freeing the town partly from the ruthless grip of the water merchants still present in California, despite NCR regulation and legislation meant to prevent such extortion, in return for food and salvage that could be used to maintain the Vault, due to a loss of the surplus in the irradiated sector of the Vault, being delivered to the Vault. Thus, an uneasy and unofficial merger occurred, with the Vault considered part of the town by the majority of residents in both communities.
In 2269, the newly arrived Lucan Seville began to make his presence known, with the formerly struggling Raider gangs and groups suddenly rejuvenated and on the attack, united under the banner of Lucan Seville's Acolytes, threatening the smaller ranches and outlying residences and wiping out militia patrols, with the militia struggling to combat this new threat thanks to the reforms and removals made by Seymour Hendrickson as part of his ideological blitz on the group. Not only this, but a far more feral threat, a so-called "legendary" creature had arrived a mere year before in 2268, but had made it's presence very much known in that time, affectionately called 'Victor' in that time by, according to popular word-of-mouth, Lucan Seville himself, the only consolation for it's presence being that it had drawn Lucan Seville's attention on to it rather than the town. On the political stage, meanwhile, a growing power struggle emerged between the elderly new-arrival Marian Lane, the owner of the relatively newly-opened Sampson Hotel butting heads with Herman Long. The two, originally having arranged a deal for Marian to buy the hotel, were now butting heads over the leadership of the town. On top of all these problems, the arrival of the moving Luminate Tribe in early 2282 to escape the growing NCR led them to Swallow Hills' outskirts. Thankfully avoiding violent incidents, mainly owing to Swallow Hills tenuous position, due to the attacks of Lucan Seville and his coalition of Raiders and the town's own fear of the tribe. Despite this, the two factions began trade; the demand for food from the tribe was intense, and the traders in town were all too happy to deliver on this demand, especially given the fact that the tribe had made the northern outskirts of the town safer to travel, opening routes that had, since 2269, been shut down by Lucan Seville's Acolytes. In turn, the size and general strength of the tribe's men and women drew interest from businessmen in town, forever on the lookout for skilled ranch hands and those with brute strength and physique, with both categories filled nicely by the tribe's populace. The two factions did have obvious difference of opinion, however, when it came to the NCR; the tribe, having been forced to move from the growing NCR, was not keen to move on again, especially after the arduous and long journey to Swallow Hills, while Swallow Hills was busy lobbying the NCR Senate to acquire a position within the Republic - lobbying which had, due to the bureaucratic NCR and direct meddling from other influences already within the Republic, failed to produce any meaningful and positive results for the town. Many in the town resented the tribe's position, and viewed their being there as one of the reasons the NCR wasn't keen to take them in, while many in the tribe resented the town's position and considered them to be elitist and domineering.
In 2283, a group of wandering vagabonds came back with the amnesiac and frightened boy who would later go onto become known as Hinge; the child had an innate gift for engineering, and thus made use of this as a wandering mechanic and restorer of various damaged vehicles hunks, minus atomic reactors and usually left forgotten and partly painted, looking like a slightly more presentable wreck than they had been prior; though this hobby was regarded more as a fetish of his by many who met Hinge, often times with awkward staring and stammered conversation a typical element in later conversation with Hinge. It was partly thanks to these skills, vehicular-repair "hobby" notwithstanding, and Herman Long's still contested position as mayor by Marian, that Hinge was hired as the town's first radio DJ; required to work as both a propagandist mouth piece for the town's elite and as a convincing 'free' voice on the radio, so as to hide the true nature of his employment. The newly arrogant and cocksure Hinge fell quite nicely into this role, preaching on the airwaves the virtues of the gallant men of the Swallow Hills Militia and various other establishment-friendly announcements, thankfully to Herman Long and bitterly to Marian Lane, the latter of whom, while not necessarily attacked in the radio speeches, still found herself the victim of thinly veiled jibes by the town's new DJ.
- Protectron: The reliable Protectron robot can be found in many places in Swallow Hills, from the old decaying ruins of commercial district businesses to long abandoned homes. Many also work for L.A.D.D.I.E., the neurotic automated financial-advisor buried in the ruins of the outer commercial district, serving as eyes and ears for the supercomputer. Protectrons, once the manual-labourers of pre-war society, now form one of the many threats to Scavengers and Raider groups; working as both workers and soldiers in the new and bloody world.
- Mister Handy: Many of the residents of Swallow Hills, not to mention businesses and political establishments, had in their employ at least one Mister Handy robot. The mainstay domestic servant of the US consumer now roams the remains of Swallow Hills; some remain in the employ of long dead masters, or have since been reprogrammed to take new ones and run new businesses; mostly bars and brothels.
- Sentry Bot: The large, tank-like Sentry Bot, abandoned by both the US Military and Vault-Tec following the Great War, can be found in relatively sparse numbers; very few remain active after the hundreds of years of decay, but those that do remain intact provide the greatest threat faced by Scavengers in the modern, swamp-like wasteland of Swallow Hills.
- Radroach: Where once the humble insect spray and exterminator could kill a nest of these little pests, now a 9mm must suffice. Having grown in size since the war, the Radroach of post-war America leaves a bad taste in the mouth of many of Swallow Hills' residents, both when it is alive and vicious and when it is skewered on a stick cooking over a campfire.
- Bloatfly: The ugly and unappreciated Bloatfly cuts a swath of low-scale damage and annoyance across the remains of Swallow Hills, launching putrid maggot filled projectiles at its prey to try and paralyze them. Ranchers curse these flying pests for attacking their livestock, more often than not blasting the flying bugs out of the sky.
- Red Eyes: The zoo of Swallow Hills once boasted one of the most exotic, albeit modestly sized, collection of exotic species, one of which was the humble American Crocodile. Following the Great War these Crocodiles, much like their southern brethren, mutated into Red Eyes, adopting the nature of an apex predator. Of course, these creatures soon emigrated to the ruins of the Suburbs, namely to where flooded sinkholes and swampy terrain had formed following the sinking into and explosion of Vault 42's main reactor. These creatures, from afar, appear benevolent and lazy, belying their agility and aggressiveness. Many a hapless scavenger or hunter, too cocky and keen to get either meat and hide or hidden pre-war treasures, and far too many a lost settler, having spotted what he thinks is a person from afar, has fallen foul of these creatures and their hidden ferociousness.
- Green Hide: Another animal that owes its current habitat of Swallow Hills to the zoo's pre-war reptilian stock, Green Hides are the descendants of the common American Alligator. Where once these creatures were kept in enclosures specifically designed for them, Green Hides find themselves swimming in the flooded ruins of the Suburbs, fighting for territory with Red Eyes, attacking Ranches and devouring the odd over-zealous Raider.
- Feral Ghoul: Once the friendly faces of Swallow Hills, with their Botox and makeup and pipes and fedoras, the proud military servicemen and law enforcement and merry Civil-Defense agency workers, now the ravenous killer corpse-like mutants that serve as one of the greatest threats in the old offices and crumbling homes of Swallow Hills. Feral Ghouls come screaming and hissing at their prey, usually cocky scavengers and lost settlers. Though dispatched easily when on their own, in groups these creatures often overwhelm over-confident prey with savage intensity.
- Brahmin: Domesticated, docile and dull - the three D's that essentially sum up the lowly Brahmin of Swallow Hills, the descendants of the pre-war Cow. Used by both ranchers and traders as both livestock and pack mules respectively, making up the majority of revenue generated for the town in the thriving Brahmin trade of California.
- Dogs: Man's best friend, so they say, inevitably survived the nuclear holocaust in one form or another. The humble Dog, once the gentle pets of the relaxed suburbanites, now serve as guards, pets and tracking dogs for all manner of employs; ranches, scavengers, and even slavers.
- Vixens: Once the humble Gray Fox, a pest that could usually be frightened away by a simple flashlight as it rummaged through overfilled garbage cans congregated in the suburban driveways and commercial back-alleys, now a snarling beast, mutated by radiation and FEV concentrates, not to mention mating with the more common genetically modified pre-war creature, with the humble flashlight doing nothing to deter it, bringing in a demand for heavy caliber rifle rounds. The Vixens serve as a large threat to many of the citizens of Swallow Hills, both in terms of life and livelihood. Whilst some concentrate solely on human prey, especially wandering vagabonds and careless ranch hands, some seem strong enough to wrangle with the largest Green Hides and Red Eyes.
Citizens of Note
- Herman Long: A former salesman of repute from prior to the war, Herman Long worked as a simple salesman for everything from Nuka Cola novelty lamps and brooms. Following the Great War, this salesman became the unofficial leader of the first vestiges of civilization and finally the mayor of the settlement, providing his own "extreme experience in politics" as he states, to better manage the town. Despite his "extreme experience" the mayor struggled and still struggles to maintain the town's economy, also struggling to bolster his rather unpopular public image thanks to his awkward manner and bumbling character.
- Marian Lane: A rough-'n'-ready bartender originally from The Hub who moved to the town to escape NCR taxation, Marian Lane is known in town as, from her own admission, a "Tough old bitch" who has come to be an accepted and thoroughly loved figure, mostly due to her pragmatic manner and tendency to give free drinks to those she likes. Her alcoholism is rarely taken into account, mostly due to the amount of fellow alcoholics warming up to her in her hotel.
- Gordon Potts: One of the few ranchers to double as a veterinarian in the area and one of the most respected ranchers in the trade, Gordon Potts is seen not only as a gifted veterinarian and rancher, but also as somewhat of an odd fellow, namely due to his adoption and parental attachment to a Red Eye that he since named Bob, the latter of which follows him everywhere. Many respect him as one of the success stories in Swallow Hills, but tend to give him a wide berth nowadays owing to his rather teething Red Eye "son".
- Seymour Hendrickson: The latest leader of the town's militia, Seymour Hendrickson is famous for his charm, wit, stunning charisma and uncanny knack for making the right friends in all the right places. His schmoozing of local powerhouse personalities has made him plenty of money and power, something that he has had a strong love of since his days in Redding, but has also fuelled animosity towards him from certain elements of society who view him as a corrupt and ineffectual leader.
- Simon: The sole Super Mutant inhabitant of Swallow Hills and also one of it's most popular pseudo-celebrities thanks to his knowledge of literature and poetry prose, Simon has been known as perhaps one of the few pseudo-celebrities in town to become such not because of how loud or quirky his words were, but of how soft spoken and enthralling his words were, and how his actions seemed to carry with them a weight that not many others in Swallow Hills could manage. He is most famously known for his reading sessions at the Sampson Hotel, but is also mostly know for his book-clubs on Mondays.
- Lucan Seville: The sadistic, brutal and pseudo-aristocratic leader of one of the largest coalitions of Raider gangs in Swallow Hills to date, Lucan Seville is a Nocturnal mutant famed for his murderous rampages and eerie presence, owing to his imitation of vampiric fiction in the belief that his "kind" are continuations of these mythical creatures with an inherent superiority over all other species in the wastes. Those who follow for often do so with fanatical loyalty, which has led to more than one spooked murmur of terrifying powers that the man, if he can even be called a man, has.
- Hinge: The town disk jockey and proprietor of the only radio station in Swallow Hills, Hinge works as both a mouthpiece for the ruling elite and a genuinely free voice. This odd combination is a good comparison for his own personality; he portrays a loudmouth and diehard persona to cover his own insecure and awkward character. This seemingly constant obvious double act is largely overlooked thanks to Hinge's own mechanical skills, thus benefitting the town.
- Swallow Hills Militia: The Swallow Hills Militia, set up around 2104, the militia serves as the main force of defense in Swallow Hills, armed with old police .38 Revolvers and Submachine guns, the former of which serves as the most common weapon. Despite being relatively well equipped, the group has rarely, if ever, fought a significant foe, save for the odd Red Eye or Feral Ghoul, leaving the majority inexperienced, over-paid and sloppy; with the threat of Lucan's Raider Groups, the vulnerabilities of the militia have become particularly.
- Lucan's Raider Groups: Whilst not a uniformly organized and equipped group like the Swallow Hills Militia, Lucan Seville's Acolytes are a force to be reckoned with. The threatening and intimidating character of Lucan Seville has inspired some of the many raider groups to pool their resources and present a true threat to the town; with the ever looming menace of Lucan's forces hanging over the town, both lone ranchers, settlers and militiamen dread this effective, and intimidating, force of motley murders and monsters, the latter of which can be applied sometimes literally as well as figuratively.
- Luminate Tribe: The Luminate Tribe, although relative newcomers to Swallow Hills, has emerged as a powerful faction. With more manpower than both the Militia and the Acolytes, the tribe is perhaps one of the more dominant forces capable of waging war. However, the tribe is held in a state of fear by Lucan Seville's own cult-of-personality, fearful of his force's pseudo-satanic appearance and rumours of Seville's abilities, and is fearful of the obviously more powerful NCR, knowing full well that a flashpoint between them and the Swallow Hills Militia would draw the attention of the far more powerful NCR.
- Suburbs: Originally a tranquil and beautiful example of pre-war America, where the hot-button issue was whether or not the neighbours were having an affair, the suburbs now stand as a battered shell of sparsely populated homes, where either settlers looking to carve out a new life for themselves in the post-war world, addicts going into hiding to escape drug-related debts or Bandit and Raider alike lie in wait to find the next victim exist; not always peacefully.
- Commercial District: The main center of town both in the pre-war and post-war world, forming the economic hub and main living center in the town respectively, once boasting movie theaters, malt shops and even a small zoo, replete with reptiles and exotic birds, where families would go out and enjoy a night out in the lively district, now a battered collection of ruined buildings populated by scavengers, settlers and traders carving out an existence in the old town. The district holds the old mayor's office, now standing as Long's private residence, numerous trading posts and stores and a variety of residences and other businesses, ranging from brothels to military surplus.
- Sampson Hotel: The Sampson Hotel was a pre-war establishment, formerly a hotel and theater, boasting 3-star service and complementary room service, turned back into a hotel by Marian Lane following the Great War, with the theater being turned into a strip tease and bar. It became the center of post-war commerce for the town, with everything from sex workers to professional poetry readers taking the stage, the latter of which being led mostly by Simon. Traders, wanderers, and settlers would meet and still do meet to trade and chat in the old hotel. Drinks cost extra for newcomers, however, especially for those who criticize the cleanliness of the rooms.
- Vault 42: The nearby Vault-Tec facility, Vault 42, stands as one of the last bastions of pre-war society; both its good and its bad. The Vault stood sealed for numerous years, with the residents attempting to emulate life as it was above ground prior to the nuclear bombardment of the United States, but was eventually opened to the wastes following a series of events that nearly destroyed the entire Vault, leaving access open to Wastelanders who passed stringent entry exams. Though a close trading partner with the town, a large distrust between the two entities exists, with the trading between them made more out of necessity than trust.
- Layat-Bolb: The Luminate Tribe's newest 'capital', located on the northern outskirts of the ruins of Swallow Hills' old suburbs, is essentially a tented city; the majority of the Luminate Tribe remains confined to this city as a result of animal and Raider attacks, with the few tribals leaving the city being those sent out to gather food and other resources. Despite the poor quality of living and the largely irradiated water supplies, the Luminate Tribe remains in this ramshackle locale, putting up with the negatives for fear of being drawn into conflict with the NCR.
- Swallow Hills Army Base: A US Army base built on the outskirts of Swallow Hills before the foundations of many of the civilian buildings in Swallow Hills had even set, this large complex was especially important to the US prior to the Great War. During and in the aftermath of the nuclear holocaust that ravaged much of the US, the base was operated for a short time by the struggling remnants of the Army before they eventually abandoned it to the wastes. With the collapse of the Federal government, and indeed most of US society, the base soon became little more than a hotspot for Feral Ghouls and Scavengers. Rumours of experiments on test subjects dragged onto the military base from penal facilities across the US in the pre-war world are now long forgotten in the harsh, post-war world.
Holotapes of Note
Holotape 01; "A Neighbourly Notice"
<Click of Recorder, clearing of throat.> Ah, yes, hello Lindsay; this is Mrs. Allison. From across the road? You know, I'm sure. Anywho, I'm not here to exchange addresses; I've noticed that your husband is a military man, so I'd very much like to inquire where the same military-style discipline that your husband no doubt endures in your household? Your little boys have found it fit to roll their bikes over my lawn; my perfectly manicured lawn, might I add. I'm sure we don't need to involve the police in matters such as this, so I'd ask you to take note; I'm not going to put up with your little terrors shrieking at the top of their lungs on my property - tell those little harpies that if I ever catch them on my lawn defacing it again, there'll be consequences. <Click of Recorders.>
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