You are the Chosen One, the direct descendant of the Vault Dweller. The village elders have selected you to wear the sacred Vault-suit of your grandsire and, in time, to ascend to the leadership of your people. First you must prove your devotion to your people. Your tribe needs help.

With grim resolve, you gird your possessions about you and cross the swaying rope-bridge that defends your village. You leave the hopeful farewells of your people behind. As you reach the far side of the bridge, many questions race through your head.

Will I find the vault? When I get there, will they give me what they denied my ancestor? Are there other Vaults that might help me? Who, or what, set up the Vaults in the first place? Is it possible that they're still out there? Watching, and waiting for some unknown event to show themselves? All of this runs through your head. As you turn your bare feet down the trail that leads away from the village, you wonder when, and if, you'll ever make it back. You wonder if you really are the Chosen One.