Post by Feliciano Vargas on Feb 5, 2011 0:03:56 GMT -8
The War was a while ago. It's capitalized because, for the new generation, it is the war that changed the world. None of the previous ones matter now. Who's left to care about the fight against tyranny, slavery, freedom, when everything that was became radiation and ash and death? Nearly 40 years have passed since the weapons dropped, throwing the world into a nuclear stone-age. Ramshackle towns have built up since, small villages populated by hovels and half destroyed buildings. The world resembles a past destroyed by technology lost to the future; like a kid decided to warp together a lesson on ancient villages with a town crushed in a giant robot fight. Some of these small "towns" survive, managing to function on some warped form of government, inhabitants clinging to each other. And most shun those who travel in the Caravans.
The Caravans adapted to life after The War by remembering how the world lived before it. Before man started the count-down to his own destruction. They are the gypsies of the new world, full of people that range from post-War children to pre-War professionals, all hauling wagons behind what few cars they can salvage. They tell stories of better times by the fire at night, and keep watch for the ghouls and the monstrosities that used to be animals.
Meat /is/ meat though, and food is scarce, with water even more so. What you find /must/ be boiled. There is no cure for radiation sickness, besides prayers to a God barely any remember. What sort of Heavenly Father would allow such a thing to happen after all?
Test your grit, skills and will to survive in the terrifying wastes of, what was once, the United States of America.