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Redemption - A Postapocalyptic Collaborative Story

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Redemption - A Postapocalyptic Collaborative Story

Postby Cry'Havoc » Sat Sep 10, 2005 10:48 pm

In 2140, the last years of the decade-long Third World War were drawing to a close. In a final effort to keep the American-Lead Axis Alliance from world domination, the leaders of the Warsaw Pact gave the order to use the last weapon in their arsenal, a system of satellites codenamed “Damocles.” With a single word, civilization as we know it on Earth was destroyed.

Damocles wreaked havoc on the major cities of the United States, leaving most of them as smoking wreckage in an event known as the Cataclysm. The weapon had an unforeseen effect, however; The resultant dust and debris in the atmosphere spread over the earth, blanketing it, shrouding it from the sun. When the skies finally cleared two months later, the world was almost entirely covered in desert. That was sixty-eight years ago.

Now, in the rubble of a society destroyed by the sins of the father, the survivors of the human race struggle to pick up the pieces.
What makes loneliness an anguish is not that I have no one to share my burden, but this: I have only my own burden to bear.
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Settings -

Postby Cry'Havoc » Sat Sep 10, 2005 10:49 pm

A few cities have managed to scrap out an existence for themselves, with the citizens trying to regain what normalcy they may. The largest on our continent are as follows:

- Big Bend

= Located in the wreckage of Memphis, this city is dominated by a large, deep crater – the impact damage of the cataclysm. Fed by water from the Mizzippi river, this has filled to become Lake Memphis, and serves as the source of life for the fishing and trading communities that have sprung up on the edges of the water, built into the cliffs. Walled by the massive, thirty-foot tall upthrust of earth about the lake’s edges, this city is only easily accessible by river. The city’s leaders are in the process of constructing a government, as well as a system of metal piers upon which a more viable city may be built. A strong arm is worth it’s weight in gold, as the citizens must always dig deeper into the cliff for fused irons and steels.

- High Palms

= When Damocles struck both Tampa and Orlando, the lower half of the Florida Peninsula was sliced from the mainland, becoming a large, prosperous island. The marshy climate supports a city-state of simple farmers, most of whom make their daily bread in the rice patties of the Highglades. They are governed by a direct democracy in the city of High Palms, formerly a section of Royal Palm Beach. The head of each household, male or female, has a seat in

- Havensberth

= A quick jump across the harbor and a day’s hike north of ruined Seattle, this city is a heaven; Protected from much of the devastation by the surrounding mountains, this tree-filled paradise lives off of the fruit of both land and sea; populated almost entirely by hunters, the location of this city allows for expeditions out into the ocean on the west, as well as salvage trips to Seattle in the south. There is no government; the people here exist in a happy anarchy, guided by a much less strict version of Zealotine morals. Honest, hard-working people, they will defend their hearth and homes with every breath in their bodies.

- Tanglewood and Renegade’s Rest

= When Amarillo was destroyed by the Cataclysm, it opened a rift in the depths of Lake Tanglewood, splitting a great chasm of a canyon that stretches down into the watery abyss of an underground sea. When the encroaching darkness of the following months killed off all of the crops above, the citizens found that the fertile, formerly lake-bottom soil was still protected along the walls of the canyon. They followed it down, carving their homes into the sandstone cliffs, forming a co-op of subsistence farmers, living by the Right, Proper Way of the Zealotine Church.
Whenever a person refused to live by the rigorous path of the Church, they were quickly issued a death sentence – banished to beyond the canyon’s protective walls, forced to wander the desert above. For twenty years, all was good… then, the first attacks came. Raiders, armed with all forms of weaponry, fell upon the city, attacking those of the higher classes who lived on the rim. A single raider was captured; when interrogated, he revealed that the pariahs of the city had survived in the mountains west, thriving in the craggy peaks. Dubbed ‘Renegade’s Rest,’ it is a city of rogues ruled by two warring factions – the honorable thieves of the Hooder Clan, and the cutthroats of Cage’s Hollow.

- San Prado

= Governed by a fortress crafted atop Angel Island, this Victorian-esque city may well be the most refined in El Oeste Nuevo (The region stretching from Havensberth in the north to the tip of the Baja peninsula in the south, and bordered by the interior mountains of Nevada, Utah, and Idaho). Holding the most strategic position on the western coast, it sits squarely on every major trade route, both land and sea, in the region. The pinnacle of fashion, finely tailored cloths and wrought wire jewelry are the norm. Women are not given a voice in this state, instead viewed as an extension of the Man’s fineries. The women, however, are far more in charge than the appearances first suggest; like any ‘civilized’ area, they are the ones pulling the strings through their husbands and lovers.

- York

= Despite the fact that four separate blasts struck the New York area, despite the fact that the city had been continuously bombed in the early stages of WW3, and despite the lack of arable land in the area… life in this city survived. A stretch of land between 8th and 2nd Ave, running from the southern border of Central Park to the end of the island, as well as a small portion of Brooklyn, stand sentinel in the waters, surrounded by the sunken skeletons of buildings about them. This city is run entirely by the Order of the Wurm, in conjunction with the Garrison Headquarters at the Library of Congress. They subsist on small, personal rooftop gardens, as well as fish of the ocean and supplies from both of their respective organizations. The city, despite being the center of the two most militaristic organizations in the New World, is surprisingly free.
Last edited by Cry'Havoc on Sat Sep 10, 2005 11:07 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Character Classes

Postby Cry'Havoc » Sat Sep 10, 2005 10:51 pm

The available classes are as wide and varied as they are in the current world; Those following are simply the larger, more standard groups that can be found in most cities in this world.

Harpers - A guild of musicians and poets, passing on the lore and legends of the old Earth.

Traders - Simple enough. They have several unions, each dealing with it's own city, but they are the same organization.

Dustrunners - Those who wander as a religion; They span the globe, seeking home, hearth, and safety lost in a single blaze of light, one crisp October morn.

The Zealotine Church - Catholics on crack - no offense to any here. They preach ultra-repressive morals, believing that the Cataclysm was God punishing an impure world.

Cavalié - Guns for hire; Mercs and outlaws just presentable enough to be trusted by city folk. They serve as escorts, leading armed caravans from city to city.

Garrison - Monks of the Garisson prize knowledge above all else, spending their lives moving from one city or another, searching for abandoned libraries and lost tomes.

The Order of the Wurm - Militaristic Darwinians, believing that only those with the strength to survive have the right to.

Cainian - a raider race who practices ritual body mutilation to bring themselves closer to the divine.

Hooder - a group of rogues and outlaws with a strict moral code regarding their thievery.
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Postby Cry'Havoc » Sat Sep 10, 2005 10:52 pm

More can be posted about the individual character classes, at a player's request.
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Postby Talon Sinnah » Mon Sep 12, 2005 9:49 am

What is our weapon choices?

I would also like more on Dustrunners. :D
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Postby Ranryu » Mon Sep 12, 2005 10:29 am

I personally would a little more on the Hooder.

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Postby Cry'Havoc » Mon Sep 12, 2005 3:38 pm

The dustrunners I went over in as much detail as I've worked out in teh Bar & Grill.

Hooders, though, are a different story. They take their name from their first leader, Charles Hoode. Their training is almost as intense as that of the Order, but for different reasons- Pents fight to subjugate the weak. Hooders fight to provide for their families and protect them from danger.

A hooder will NEVER steal from someone with less than himself, as a matter of principle. So, when he or she amasses a certain amount of wealth, they will 'clean house' and give everything they own to some worthy cause. This helps to build the people's view of them as some gift from God.

As to weapons, anything that exists and was mas produced in modern times remains viable- Damocles wiped out all power grids and storage devices, but weaponry that functions on expanding gas (guns) are completely workable. The main problem is ammunition - foundries cannot easily ship out their products, so bullets are left to what's still in circulation.

As such, certain intellectual thugs find different ways to get their hits in. Arrows and other simple-machine driven projectiles are both easy and popular, while more advanced smiths create something called a 'Blast spear,' a steel polearm, bayonet tipped, the length of which serves as a rifled barrel. Finely distilled alcohol ignites in several re-fillable chambers along the base when a button is depressed on the grip. It serves as both a melee weapon and a highly accurate distanced attack.

Blades and other simple weapons are, of course, ever-so-popular.
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Postby capt_tightpants » Mon Sep 12, 2005 8:03 pm

Are their any parts of the old Axis or Warsaw alliances left or are they just gone?
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Postby Talon Sinnah » Tue Sep 13, 2005 2:09 pm

Soooooo does that mean swords are okay? Say an old japanese katana salvaged from a ruined museum? :D
I am the poet of the body and I am the poet of the Soul. The pleasures of heaven are with me and the pains of hell are with me. The first I graft and increase upon myself, the latter I translate into a new tongue.

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Postby Talon Sinnah » Tue Sep 13, 2005 2:30 pm

Only humans right considering it is strictly fantasy you do not have to answer that.

How is this for a character scetch.

Name: Drake Larcen
Class: Dustrunner
Age:21
Description: Stands six feet tall of medium build. He has black hair tied back in a ponytail and his eyes are a jade color.He wears a ankle length tan coat and a white cloth shirt with denim jeans. A pair of traveling boots offers protection for his feet. He keeps his ancient japanes katana on his left hip hid under his coat.

More later.
Last edited by Talon Sinnah on Thu Sep 15, 2005 10:14 am, edited 2 times in total.
I am the poet of the body and I am the poet of the Soul. The pleasures of heaven are with me and the pains of hell are with me. The first I graft and increase upon myself, the latter I translate into a new tongue.

-Walt Whitman-
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Postby Cry'Havoc » Tue Sep 13, 2005 3:06 pm

Good question, capt'. The people and ideas that started and maintained were either killed, or are now dying of old age. The children of that war have grandchildren now, and maybe grandchildren.

As far as the Axis is concerned, most if not all of the military installations in North America were destroyed in the cataclysm - the first targets. Most people of the Warsaw are in Europe, and our RP has yet to venture there.

To talon - Your character is yours to create; However, a few things should be kept in mind. 1: It is in ones best interests, especially Dustrunners, Hooders, and other desert wanderers, to blend in. Black shows out remarkably well at a distance. 2: Blades are fine. Blades are fun. Katanas doubly so. The problem, however, is that possession of a weapon does not necessarily entail the ability to use it. I had to spend three months training just to get a basic grasp of how to use my Katana.
What makes loneliness an anguish is not that I have no one to share my burden, but this: I have only my own burden to bear.
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Postby Talon Sinnah » Tue Sep 13, 2005 3:30 pm

Okay so change color and up the age right.
I am the poet of the body and I am the poet of the Soul. The pleasures of heaven are with me and the pains of hell are with me. The first I graft and increase upon myself, the latter I translate into a new tongue.

-Walt Whitman-
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