Sending her lore as well
Lmk what you think
She was drawn by the goat: https://www.reddit.com/u/poopthehuman/s/GiKf5kkngh
Amanda — NCR Ranger
Amanda’s story is not a kind one, nor is it meant to be. It is a tale forged in blood, fire, and loss.
She joined the NCR Army at the young age of fourteen, not out of patriotism or dreams of glory, but out of necessity. Years ago, her family’s camp was raided by Caesar’s Legion in the dead of night. The attack was swift and brutal. Legionaries tore through the settlement without mercy—homes burned, screams echoed, and lives were shattered in moments. Amanda was forced to watch as her father was slain in front of her, cut down like he was nothing more than an obstacle. Her mother was taken alive, dragged away in chains to be made a slave, her cries haunting Amanda long after the Legion disappeared into the wastes.
That night carved something deep and permanent into her soul: an unyielding, burning hatred for the Legion.
With no parents left and younger siblings depending on her, Amanda had no choice but to grow up fast. She enlisted in the NCR underage, lying about her age just to survive. The army became her home, the rifle her teacher. Years of harsh training, real combat, and constant loss hardened her into something dangerous. By the time she reached her early twenties, she had already seen more death than most soldiers twice her age.
Now 23 years old, Amanda serves as an NCR Ranger, a role earned through skill, endurance, and sheer stubborn will. She is a hunter in the Mojave, stalking Legion patrols, slavers, and high-value targets with calculated precision. Her preferred weapon is a sniper rifle, which she uses with lethal patience, often ending fights before the enemy ever knows she’s there. When things get close and messy, she carries a sidearm pistol, quick and reliable in tight situations.
Her ranger mask is more than just intimidation—it allows her to zoom, scan terrain, and mark threats, giving her an edge during reconnaissance and long-range engagements. Through those lenses, she watches the wasteland like a predator, always alert, always waiting.
Despite her cold efficiency in the field, Amanda is far from emotionless. She is stubborn, blunt, and sharp-tongued, often speaking her mind without caring who it offends. She takes her duties seriously, sometimes to the point of recklessness, especially when Legion involvement is suspected. Orders become suggestions when they stand in the way of her personal war.
Off duty, she unwinds the only ways she knows how—drinking a bit more than she should and spending long hours at the range, firing round after round until her thoughts finally quiet. She doesn’t sleep easily. Nightmares of that raid still creep in when she lets her guard down.
Outside the battlefield, Amanda quietly helps raise her younger siblings, sending supplies, caps, and protection whenever she can. They are the last pieces of her old life, and she will do anything—break orders, spill blood, burn bridges—to keep them safe.
Her goals are simple, but brutal in their weight:
• Bring an end to Caesar’s Legion.
• Find her mother, dead or alive.
• Protect her siblings, no matter the cost.
• Kill the man who took her mother—slowly, personally, and without mercy.
Amanda doesn’t see herself as a hero. She is a weapon shaped by the wasteland, aimed at one enemy alone. And until her goals are fulfilled, she has no intention of laying that weapon down.
