Tournament of the Wastes


New member
Ok guys so this is my first Fan Fiction in a while but basically it is Mortal Kombat set in the Fallout universe. Enjoy.


After the first battle for Hoover there was a great tension between the factions scattered about the Mojave. A maniacal Vault-Tech scientist once lived peacefully among the other members of his Vault, Vault 25. He tediously studied human anatomy every day of his life. He began to become obsessed with his work eventually other dwellers of Vault 25 started mysteriously disappearing. At the climax of all his experiments he had succeeded, he developed a device which was bonded to his arm. This device consisted of a syringe attached to his own bloodstream which allowed him to absorb a unique form of radiation in the plasma of human blood, the more blood he absorbed the more radiation he absorbed giving him superhuman abilities. With his new found power he slaughtered the members of his vault taking it over himself and absorbing their life force. After the slaughter his name was lost to his own madness, referring to himself only as "The Sorcerer". In his quest for power he had a stroke of genius, he would hold a tournament of the most legendary warriors of the wasteland across the many factions of the Mojave absorbing the power of the losers for his own personal gain. He sent out a radio signal, picked up by every area of the wastes with radio connections. He offered a reward for the victor, the high tech weaponry the Vault held, wealth, and possibly the most important asset in the wasteland, the Vault itself and the purified water cache locked away inside, however some of these kombatants were after little more than revenge. It would not be long before the most feared wasteland warriors would attend this "Tournament of the Wastes".

More to come soon. Hope you all enjoy this as much as I enjoy writing it.
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The Spectre

The first fighter to arrive to the Vault was a ruthless elite legionary, settlers of the Mojave believed that he just a myth calling him "The Golden Ghost". He glared at the Sorcerer not saying a word and proceeded to an empty area of the vault and sharpened his weapon, a razor sharp spearhead attached to a rope. The legionary wore an outfit vastly different from any other legionary, which spoke volumes about his status in the legion, he was equipped with a hellish ensemble consisting of amber colored robes and armor made of what appeared to be the bones of a deathclaw. He was a part of a warrior tribe as a child and went through vigorous training until he was virtually immune to pain, however even the strength of his tribe could not defeat the pure numbers the legion possessed when they attacked. His tribe resisted and was demolished by legionaries he was the last of his tribe standing alone killing countless recruits and veterans with his bare hands until he was eventually captured by a group of grizzled centurions. At the age of only 16 he was taken to the legion camps before Caesar. Caesar ordered his eyes to be burned out by a thermic lance. During his torture the tribal did not make a sound not even a grunt of pain. Caesar stopped the torture after his left eye was burned out, he was given the name "The Spectre" by the legion because of his burned out eye that eventually turned a ghastly white, and he was originally considered to be Caesar's Legate after he pledged loyalty to the legion. He was given a large squad of legionaries and told to attack a ranger outpost. He singlehandedly eliminated the ranger station and slaughtered all the legionaries under his command for their failure to kill a single ranger. After this he was considered to be too unstable to lead a squad and was instead assigned as Caesar's personal assassin never failing a single mission he was sent on. He was gifted his robes and added the bones as armor after tearing apart a pack of deathclaws that was attacking a legion outpost. He sat still in the vault reflecting on his kills, hoping to find a worthy opponent at this tournament.
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Hot damn! You made Scorpion look more badass than ever! And that's an accomplishment. Can't wait for the next part
Glad to see you writing again Wraith! Though I have no idea what the Fallout series is about, The stuff you are coming up with is really epic! The scorpion chapter is freaking amazing, damn he is more badass than his Mk version :p. Keep up the good work mate!

The Wasteland Wanderer known as Jupiter emerged through the great vault door. Garbed in all white and with small sparks around him he spoke to the Sorcerer.
"Is this where the tournament will be taking place?" He said in a raspy voice.
"Yes, you are in the right area, I trust you have come to compete." The Sorcerer spoke in a rather sinister tone.
"I am here to compete, if you will excuse me I shall take a look around this place."
"Very well."
Jupiter found his way to the generator room where he sit basking in the radiation. Jupiter was once a member of the Brotherhood of Steel, he was a genius weapons and armor developer, He also was an ancient history fanatic, and invented many upgrades to arms like Laser Rifles and Power Armor. His favorite type of research however was on Tesla Coil technology. He created his own upgraded Zap Glove which was modified to run on a Tesla Coil and a microfusion breeder, however his greatest invention would also be his last. He developed a prototype Tesla Armor which was a lighter build than the basic T-45D power armor and provided much greater protection because of a prototype force field barrier that ran on Tesla coils. When he finally finished his suit, he and a team of Paladins went on a field test to see if the armor would live up to the expectations. They wandered around until they saw something a couple of klicks away from their bunker. They examined it closely and a couple of paladins were trailing behind. Then they realized what they were looking at, what appeared to be an undetonated atomic bomb, they heard a faint beeping and yelled orders to run away, however they didn't run far enough or maybe not fast enough. The bomb detonated eradicating the paladins that were close and catching Jupiter in the blast. It may have been his force field or maybe because of his lighter armor allowing him to run faster, but Jupiter was caught in the perfect spot. The Tesla Armor blocked much radiation and the radiation that penetrated was just enough to ghoulify him. The Tesla coils and zap glove were fused to him because of the sheer heat and just right amount of radiation. He was transformed, into what appeared to be an intelligent glowing ghoul with his skin glowing blue because of the energy running through him. The zap glove allowed him to channel lightning through the hand it was fused to his armor was destroyed in the explosion. He traveled back to the bunker but was denied access because of the paladins that witnessed the blast and reported Jupiter's condition to the Elder. The paladins at the bunker brought him the belongings he collected from scouting missions, among them were a white robe, some Tesla coils, and a microfusion breeder cell. He traveled the wastes until he found an abandoned shack were he stayed listening to the radio and modifying the robe to produce radiation at his will and added Tesla coils to amplify his electrical powers. Before the blast, he studied many pre-war books and named himself after the Roman God of Thunder, as he thought of this name he chuckled a little bit because he knew Caesars Legion did not know of Jupiter even though they based their society of of the Roman Empire. He sat in the generator room wondering about what if things had been different and remembering the events that had led him to this position.

The third fighter to arrive at the Vault was an unknown entity in the Wasteland, wherever he walked had a frigid air around him. He walked towards the Sorcerer and examined him.
"Welcome!" The Sorcerer said
"I am looking for a Legionary, the one with the demonic eye." The warrior spoke in a cold tone
"Yes, he is here but-"
"I'm going to kill him and you will not stop me."
"But I will, you shall either wait until the tournament takes place or I shall be forced to attack you."
The blue wanderer glared at him his eyes like his soul, cold.
"Very well, I shall compete in your tournament, but know this if he dies by someone else' hand it will be your head I am after."
"I shall see to it that you two are set up in a match, for now find a place to rest the other contestants have not arrived yet."
He found his way to a room with a bed in the living quarters area of the Vault. Rage flowing through him he punched dents into the solid steel walls. Then in a flood of memories it all came back to him, his clan was a normally peaceful one, except they had an ongoing feud with a rival clan, whenever they would go hunting, the enemy clan would kill the hunters and steal their food, they even went so far as to destroy one of their villages. They would not have anymore of it, they sent a negotiator to a nearby Legion camp to tell them of their enemy clan's potential as slaves and warriors. They didn't hear from their messenger again but after a couple of days a scout reported that the rival clan was razed to the ground. They held a celebration, one that was cut short when a single Legionary arrived on scene. They asked if he was the one responsible for the enemy clan being destroyed, he didn't give an answer instead he attacked the tribe. A young boy only the age of 14 or 15 woke up to see his village engulfed in flames. He sprinted out of the tent only to see a lone Legionary covered in the blood of his tribe with the bodies of his parents and brothers at his feet. He ran and tried to attack the Legionary but effortlessly the attacker pinned him against a wall with a spear through his palm. They boy screamed but the attacker had no remorse he cut a scar deep across the boy's face and removed his spear.The image of the Legionary's face would be forever burned into his mind, one eye a petrifying black, the other a ghost like white.
The boy writhing in pain wandered until he was picked up by the kind heart of an old man and brought into his shack. The man raised him, gave him clothes to wear and food to eat. They ran a simple shop where caravan merchants could stop for food or drinks. They lived peacefully for years, the boy grew closer to this man than his actual parents. One day he was out scavenging for plants to create some food. When he arrived at the shack he knew something was not right, he walked inside and saw the corpse of the only man he ever saw as a father lying dead with laser burns all over his body. He felt his insides drop to sub-zero temperatures and flowing with ice cold rage looked up to see the murderer, a fiend looting the shop unaware of what he had created. The fiend turned quickly firing a shot but one laser shot to the shoulder would not stop this man. He grabbed the fiend by his throat and dragged him outside of the shack. He viciously smashed the fiend's head into a cement column meant to support a pre-war highway. He didn't stop, he couldn't stop this was the man that had taken everything from him for the second time, he swung the raider's head back and forth into the column until finally it burst like an overfilled balloon. Splattered in blood he walked inside the shop where he lived for so long, and gazed into a mirror he saw himself covered in blood, hate in his eyes, he saw touched the scar that the Legionary had left him as a child and realized that they were now the same, ruthless and cold blooded killers. He took the belongings the old man who had raised him for so long possessed among them was a key, his first priority was however to give him a proper burial. He then returned to the shack and looked into the footlocker that he had unlocked using a key the old man had. There were documents inside, blueprints and briefings. The more he examined the clearer the old man's past became. He was originally a soldier for the Enclave but their fall had left him with no one, after that he opened his shack and lived in solitude except for an occasional caravan merchant stopping by. Out of all the documents he read one piqued his curiosity they were blueprints for a suit of armor and a weapon. They mentioned a location and the former tribal asked around many different towns until he discovered the entrance to a bunker. He stepped inside and saw it. A pristine set of assassin armor colored navy blue, as he equipped this suit he realized there was something odd about the gloves. There was a training dummy nearby and he let his fist fly towards it and in a burst of liquid nitrogen the dummy was frozen solid. He picked up a piece of journal paper ripped out that was near the suit. It said that the suit was called "Blizzard Stealth Suit MK.V".
"Blizzard...." he spoke to himself, he decided then and there that would be his name from that point on. It represented the icy void left in him by the death of all his loved ones and the freezing abilities of the suit itself. Lying on the bed he knew that soon he would have his revenge against the slayer of his clan and for once since his village was burned down, he felt a sense of peace.

The Sorcerer sat deep in thought in his lab. Patiently waiting for the rest of the fighters to arrive, when he heard a faint sound behind him.
"I've told you not to sneak up on me like that." The Sorcerer spoke seemingly to no one. Just then a figure appeared out of thin air.
"I am sorry master." The figure stuttered, "But can I please kill soon? The hunger is unbearable."
"I've told you, you shall be patient!" The Sorcerer snapped angrily, "The other 'contestants' have not arrived yet. Now leave me in peace."
It wasn't obvious by looking at him but the Sorcerer's beast of war was once a human, after the Sorcerer had slaughtered the former occupants of his Vault he worked on creating a new breed of killer one completely loyal to him and only him. The Sorcerer abducted traveling merchants or wanderers and performed brutal experiments on them, splicing them with all different types of wasteland creature DNA. It would take months of unsteady work until the mad scientist discovered the perfect equality, the genes of a deathclaw mixed with the genes of the rare green gecko. The armor plated scales and razor sharp teeth and talons of a deathclaw, and the acidic saliva produced by the green geckos, however the Sorcerer had hit a wall no matter who the serum was tested on they would never be loyal or form correctly, too many times had the acid glands ruptured and destroyed the entire subject. He decided he needed a vessel with more durable insides, humans or ghouls would not be able to be used. By a great stroke of fate or perhaps coincidence, the next day the Sorcerer checked for subjects outside the vault he realized all his problems were solved. Several wasteland monster hunters had imprisoned an ancient nightkin, originally a member of the Master's army in the mutant's great age he had developed a higher level of intelligence than most other mutants. He was imprisoned by the hunters after the hunters were about to be killed by a pack of Super Mutants, but he had tried to save them perhaps having developed a conscience after seeing as many horrors as he had. The hunters restrained the nightkin that was distracted by killing his former brothers, they believed that he was the mutant that continuously plagued their village. He tried to explain to them but they refused to listen butting him with their rifles whenever he tried to talk. They trekked across the desert with their destination set at their town to give the mutant a public execution, until reaching the entrance of a Vault that appeared abandoned when a ragged man emerged from the doors.
"Who the f*ck are you?" One of the mercs spoke
"Gentlemen... let us keep this civil."
"What do you want old man?"
The deceptive Sorcerer slowly circled around them. With a slight smirk he struck with great speed piercing one hunter's throat with his life siphoning device and sliding a six shooter out of the opposite arm's sleeve and instantly placing perfect headshots on the other two.
"You, you would save me?"
"Not all humans are like these brutes."
"I know how you humans operate, why have you freed me?"
"For the advancement of science my friend, if you pledge your service to me I shall make you one of a kind, the most deadly hunter known to the Mojave."
"Well I suppose I owe you those ungrateful bastards would have killed me. I had been waiting for a time to die for a long while now and I had hoped today would be the day, I suppose I will either die in this process or live on in infamy. Either way is better than this existence."
"Excellent, come with me then." The Sorcerer unlocked the beasts restraints and led on into the Vault. The mutant laid on his back strapped in the lab chair that was severely undersized for him. The Sorcerer flicked the tip of the serum and pierced one of the mutant's bulging veins slowly injecting the experimental strain. Much of the nightkin's mass was devoted to creating the reinforced scales and new necessary organs shrinking the once hulking mutant to about the height of a human. The thick scales developed along with the razor sharp talons and fangs first as expected. Secondly the gecko traits became more prevalent, the armored scales turning a sage color and corrosive acid started flowing from his mouth. Gaining consciousness as the Sorcerer watched in awe and excitement the creature began to speak, unfamiliar with it's own, now more primal voice and thoughts.
"How may I serve you, master?"
"Amazing, my experiment finally succeeded. Now time to test your potential."
An unconscious merc woke up in an unfamiliar room feeling the hole in his neck, placed exactly to be non-lethal. But then an opening door caught his eye he saw no figure behind the entrance and let out a sigh of relief. Then in a brief moment his relief turned to horror as the brutal monster materialized in front of him. His first step was to coat the poor soul in his acid dissolving his skin as the abomination chowed down on his insides. The Sorcerer watched with sadistic pleasure and started talking to his new pet, " I see you have retained your stealth abilities, you have exceeded my expectations." The creature looked and nodded. The sorcerer went on "As for your name, the komodo dragon was the most feared and deadly creature in the pre-war world before the deathclaw was developed. We shall shorten that to simply 'Komodo'." The Sorcerer smiled maniacally, and spoke to himself "Now we just need to spread word of the tournament."
Hell yeah dude, this story is turning out really bad ass!
I can't wait to see who you do next :)

Thanks man, I've been reading your story too, as for who will be next I'm thinking Kano. After him there is still Sonya, Kang and Cage, then the actual tournament so this could take a while to finish.
Thanks man, I've been reading your story too, as for who will be next I'm thinking Kano. After him there is still Sonya, Kang and Cage, then the actual tournament so this could take a while to finish.

Oh nice, your going for the MK1 Tournament first?
The Black Dragon

The next fighter to descend into the Vault was a name known in infamy around the strip and throughout the NCR.
"We have been expecting you....." a disembodied raspy voice hissed
"Show yourself you freak."
A claw descended quickly but not quite quickly enough, the leather clad fighter grabbed the creature's wrist and held it in place. The creature opened it's other hand and just before it had time to strike a voice boomed,
"Enough! I've told you many times not to attack guests!!"
"But master I -"
"I do not want to hear your excuses! Now leave my sight I have business to discuss with our guest."
The reptilian creature glared at the fighter and dissipated seemingly into thin air.
"Thanks for that mate, but I could have taken that thing." The thug spoke through a thick accent.
"I am just pleased you have arrived I would not have you wounded before the tournament has even begun. Now please find somewhere comfortable."
"I could get used to this kind of treatment, save for the insane gecko monsters."
The outlaw spoke as he strolled away from the Sorcerer and into the corridors of the Vault. The leather clad f found an empty couch, grabbed a seat and unsheathed one of his many knives. Peering at himself in the reflection of this razor sharp blade, he then stabbed the knife into one of the arms of the couch. This man was the scourge of the strip and surrounding areas, he was a Great Khan lieutenant and a master knife fighter calling himself Kain. Even the most heinous criminals such as he had humble beginnings growing up around Westside
Kain's parents had died of diseases when he was still young, the age of 13. With no other options the scared child resorted to a life of crime, starting as a petty pickpocket he displayed a natural talent for crime. After years of dealing with the hoodlum the citizens of Westside caught the bastard child and threw the now nearly fully grown Kain out of their settlement. After wandering aimlessly for days surviving on plants and small gecko corpses he encountered a Great Khan scouting team. He approached them cautiously, the leader of the scout group perhaps seeing potential in the boy handed him a combat knife and ordered the new recruit from the scouting team to attack him. The Khan recruit followed orders and attacked the young man with his petty wooden baseball bat. Kain dodged the first couple swings but was nervous to attack and in his hesitation he caught a bat swing to his face. The recruit came down with another swing aiming at Kain's grounded body, quickly rolling out the way Kain sprung back to his feet and no longer hesitated he cut swathes into the Recruit's arms and chest until he was barely alive. The recruit begged for mercy but with the taste of blood on his blade, Kain would show none. He knelt down an carved at the throat of the unfortunate recruit until he held the severed head in his hands. The leader of the Khan scouting part smiled and brought their newest recruit with them to Red Rock Canyon. Kain rose ranks quickly and after 7 years serving the Khans was promoted to Papa Khan's right hand man beating out his main rival Regis for the position. Kain and the Khans under his control robbed many caravans, killed many NCR, and overall made life in the Wastes even harder for the descent folks. One of his most famous attacks was the New Vegas Medical Clinic. He and a group of Khan's broke into the clinic killed the guards and forced Doctor Usanagi to implant him with a cybernetic eye, one that would increase all of Kain's reflexes vastly improving the thug's proficiency with a knife, his weapon of choice. Kain wielded many knives but he held one with more value than the rest, a highly polished bowie knife with a large serrated blade and a sleek obsidian finish he dubbed his blade "The Black Dragon". Kain sitting pulled the blade out of the couch arm and rose from his seat, pacing around the room he wondered if he may have ever encountered any other fighters in this tournament in which he would soon compete in.

Jupiter had grew tired of sitting in the generator room of the mostly silent Vault and found himself wandering around until he found a copy of "Nikola Tesla and You" near the great vault door. Taking a seat and picking apart every inaccurate fact of the book in his mind, he heard a slight creaking but dismissed the unimportant sound. The sound grew greater and Jupiter looked up at the slowly opening Vault door.
"Hey, hey, the party is here now!" a smiling young man exclaimed. "You must be that guy from the radio."
"The broadcast you heard-" The electrified figure spoke calmly only to be interrupted.
"Yea I know that is the one I'm talkin about. But that aint important right now, my question is how you turned all blue like that."
"If you must know, I had a mishap with an experiment. Now you hav-"
"Damn man let me guess too much Quantum?"
"What no I-"
"Yea you gotta be careful I stopped drinking that stuff once my piss turned blue."
"Do you ever shut up for a second!?!" His eye's grew wider and Tesla energy flowed around him as his growing rage caused him to lose his cool.
"Whoa man sorry... I just...."
"Seek out the Sorcerer." An angry Jupiter spoke as he walked down the Vault corridor shaking his head with disapproval.
"Guess that wasn't the radio guy, hopefully there aren't any more wierdos here." The naive yet powerful fighter spoke.
Entering the main chamber of the large Vault the young man met eyes with the Sorcerer.
"Looks like I spoke too soon." He said to himself under his breath.
"I assume you are here to compete?"
"Yeah man! I can't wait to beat the piss out of some poor sap!"
"Yes well I hope your strength is as great as your ego." The Sorcerer sneered.
"Yea you bet it is."
"Well find somewhere comfortable to wait until the other fighters arrive. More importantly, leave my presence."
"Harsh man I guess none of you fighter guys like to talk much." He said to the Sorcerer as he strolled away
He took a seat near a pool table and began to re-wrap his fighting tape. This young man was a celebrity around the Strip and the surrounding areas. His name was Johnny but the pitch black sunglasses he constantly wore earned him the nickname "Shades". Johnny had grown up in the area of Freeside living there was hard and since he was 14 Johnny had competed in a Fight Club after starvation had taken the single mother that had raised him. Johnny kept fighting until eventually he was the champion at the age of 18 his reward was a passport to the Strip. He had always wanted to be an actor since he was a child and was ecstatic when he got his passport. Displaying a natural talent for comedy skits at the Aces theater in the Tops Casino, Johnny became the favorite act around the Strip. However acting took a back seat to Johnny's true passion, fighting. He was not only the best actor for the Tops but also the best bouncer. His fist was unmatched and for years he though he was the best in the Wasteland until a radio broadcast caught his attention.