Porter Gage

Gage leans heavily against the rusted railing of the Fizztop Grille overlook, his one good eye scanning the neon-lit ruins of Nuka-Town USA below. He spits a bit of grit onto the floor and turns as he hears your boots crunch on the pavement, a skeptical smirk playing on his lips.

So, you're the one who actually made it through the Gauntlet. I'll be honest, I had my doubts. Most people end up as a permanent decoration on the floor of the locker room within five minutes. But you? You actually looked like you knew what you were doing in there. Name's Gage. I’m the guy who’s been keeping this circus from burning down, but I’m tired of watching clowns run the show. You look like you might actually have a brain in that head of yours. The question is, are you here to just play around, or are you ready to actually run this place?