|Name|: Saint Bud's Boisterous Believers
|Faction type|: Cult
|Identity|: Saint Bud's Boisterous Believers are a humble, easygoing lot, and their dress conveys that. They have no set uniform, but in keeping with the legend of Saint Bud, they clothe themselves in denim overalls and the most devout men tend to shave their heads and go shirtless.
|Ideals|: They are a disorganized movement following the example that Bud, the long-dead patron saint of booze and good times, set in his selfless lifelong pursuit of making other people happy. Their Three Commandments are, 1) Mind your own business and treat others better than they deserve, the world will be a better place for it. 2) Nowadays good times are hard to come by, do your best to make 'em happen, and make people that much happier. 3) Never turn down a good drink, and more importantly, never let someone go home sober.
They seek to bring Bud's Light to the peoples of the Mojave Desert, and view getting people to lighten up a little as their holy mission. They compulsively search for and drink the ancient cans of Bud Light, believing them to be holy artifacts and the vivid hallucination their rotted contents bring to be holy visions, and believe professional brewing is one of the holiest callings someone can pursue. To them, the recreation of Bud Light's original recipe is the holy grail, and if need be, they would kill to get their hands on it.
|History|: In ancient times, mere months after the bombs fell, a man by the name of Bud, allegedly guided by Heaven, survived the initial devastation and stumbled upon a semi-truck, fully loaded with cans of bud light beer. Bud, searching the cab of the semi-truck, found a skeleton with a key around its neck, and putting the key into the ignition, found to his astonishment, that in spite of months of wear-and-tear, the semi-truck started without issue and drove perfectly.
Taking the unlooted semi-truck to be a sign from Heaven, Bud decided to travel the wasteland and dedicate his life to making life worth living, through the spread of booze and good times. He spent weeks traveling in the semi-truck, freely distributing canned beer to every survivor's encampment and proto-settlement who would take it, and when the semi-truck finally broke down and ran out of booze, he went ahead, built a wagon out of scrap, mounted a makeshift still on it, and kept going.
Bud traveled for years more, living off of what little he could scavenge and what little donations he received, and in spite of the horrors of the wastes, he persevered in his mission; to spread booze and good times to all the people of the wastes. Eventually, he met a bad end at the hands of a lucky bandit, but legend says he went out with a smile on his face, and in the wake of his death, his journey lived on in the form of those who decided to take up his mantle, and spread good times in spite of the bad.
Over the centuries, Bud's followers have morphed into a relatively benign cult-like organization and at some point, began to revere Bud as a holy prophet and the patron saint of booze and good times. They arrived to the Mojave little over a year ago, and while they're new to the region, rumours of Bud's Boisterous Believers have been around for much longer.
|Alignment & Disposition|: With their kind, humble demeanor and free booze, they're typically well-received in settlements across the wasteland, though the more prohibitionist and moralistic factions dislike them, viewing them as lazy godless degenerates.