Let me tell you a story...
War might never change, but being a Ferryman fuckin’ well does. The Mongaya and Dion Boat Service has been around for a good few centuries now, and it was a damn lot simpler back when there weren't Mirelurks coming out of the water and trying to rip you in two.
Still, life goes on.
We need money just as much now as we did back before the world got an atomic makeover; even if we are using plastic and tin instead of paper. We don’t take sides. We don’t pick fights. We just ferry anyone who can pay back and forth, from one wasteland to the next.
At least, that’s how things used to be.
In the days before the war, Chicago was all sparkling glass and gleaming metal towers, scraping away at clear blue skies and fluffy white clouds. But the suits and ties pissed all that away with nuclear fire, and now you’ve got some shitty bombed out ruins and a great big sea of grey.
We had no idea if there was any life left in that old pile of rubble, but it sure as shit didn’t look like there was.
We were wrong.
The Brotherhood of Steel came sailing through on an airship back in the day, and got into some kind of firefight with the Enclave outposts running around the outside of the Windy City. But these weren't just a few remnants with some fancy pre-war tech, no sir. These guys and gals were the survivors of that shitstorm in the oil rig, back in 42.
I ain’t got a fuckin’ clue what went down in Chicago, but by the time the dust cleared, there was no Brotherhood or Enclave. There was only the Sovereign Empire of the Great Midwest. A bunch of wacko imperialists with some hyper-advanced space age gizmos, and rage like you ain’t ever seen.
So what should’ve been a nice little boat trip down the Chicago River became a real fuckin’ shit show, real fuckin’ quickly.
Our best damn ship, the Mississippi Dreamer, got brought down by some asshat with a rocket launcher, and we ran aground at a little place called Bloomtop, which just so happened to be one of the last damn free settlements left in Illinois.
So here we are; outmatched and outgunned, in the middle of a fuckin’ warzone.
Being a ferryman? You can bet your ass it's changed.
OOC
The Ferryman’s tale is a Fallout-based game, taking place in the ruins of of Post- Great War Chicago. Players have the option of taking on the role of one of the passengers who were aboard the Mississippi Dreamer (which can have come from any of the other wastelands seen thus far in Fallout, or an original creation of your own design), or to play an occupant of the Illinois Wasteland. Players can control individual characters, small warbands, or entire factions. The Sovereign Empire of the Great Midwest is set in stone as the greatest Chicago-based power, but beyond that players have free roam to shape the wasteland as they wish.
Waddaya say?
