Several generations have passed since Doomsday, when the Earth was wracked by the Final War. Our forebears told of the devastation, of the great pillars of ash and flame, of the clouds of man-made pestilence, of the waves of strangely scented death. All the marvels our ancestors had striven to create, their towering edifices of steel, concrete and glass, the lore stored on their webs of computers, were torn asunder, rent and lost. Many died, man and beast alike, and the Earth was tortured and twisted. Many more died during the Years of Dark Ice that followed.
As heat and light returned, those few survivors began to establish themselves anew, communities began to slowly grow again, both to protect and nurture or to seize and pillage, for both are paths of survival. Nations were gone, survival was paramount, trade was scant. What useful implements of the Before Time that could be safely salvaged were quickly hoarded and cherished, for future generations, for survival, for protection and predation.
The damage and poisoning of the Earth was reflected in the warped flesh of animal and man. Many were born with hideous mutations to the horror of their parents. Most died, others were cast out, only a few were nurtured or endured. Over time, the number of mutants has slowly increased, reluctantly accepted in some places, still reviled in others.
Fortified settlements are scattered across and beneath the blasted landscape now, linked by the battered roads our ancestors made. Road warriors in their armed and armored vehicles guard these places of civilization, escort the mighty trade rigs that ferry goods and people between those settlements that trade. Raiders assault these in their crude vehicles, steal and slaughter, constantly test the defenses of the towns and homesteads nearby. The weak, the foolish, quickly fall to their ravages.
This is a time of hardship, of rebuilding, a time when scavengers pick at the scraps of the Before Time, a time when might too often means right. But it is also a time of hope, for Humanity has endured and the Earth begins to very slowly mend. The future will again be wrought by our hands, for good or ill.
- Daniel Turing, Lore Keeper of Redtown
The rulebook is here - http://rpg.drivethrustuff.com/product/70124/Atomic-Highway---Post-Apocalyptic-Roleplaying
Iron Ghost (originally Marcus Lanner) Player: Dan Race: Human Rearing: Remnant Pursuit: Brave Description: Athletic and deeply tanned, with dread-locked brown hair, narrow brown eyes, and many dark ritual scars forming swirling patterns over his skin. Personality: Convinced that returning to a more primitive existence is less destructive and far more honest. Iron Ghost eschews his past, and is loyal, forthright, and thoughtful. Background: Marcus left his remnant community in disgust at their over-reliance on technology, and was adopted by a tribe when he was found dying in the wilderness; he struggled hard to become a valuable member of the tribe, eventually earning the name Iron Ghost and becoming a Brave.
Attributes Muscle 3, Understanding 3, Tenacity 2, Appeal 2, Nimbleness 3, Toughness 3, Senses 2
Skills Athletics 2, Brawl 2, Drive 1, Intimidate 2, Lore 2, Melee 2, Notice 2, Persuade 1, Ride 3, Shoot 3, Stealth 2, Survive 2, Tech 2, Zoofinity 1
Health: ?? Armor: None. Weapons: Knife, heavy vicious bludgeon (large carved wooden club set with animal claws), short bow (12 arrows). Clothing: Hide pants, leather vest (decorated with bone beadwork), bearskin cloak, hide boots secured with leather strips. Gear: Gas mask, Geiger counter. Transport: Horse with saddle blanket and harness.
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