Dixie Fiend — Roleplayer Guild

▸ PREMISE & SUMMARY
▸ SETTING:Gulf & Southeastern Commonwealths ...
▸ TIMELINE:2289-2290– a few years after the events of Fallout 4 ...
▸ TYPE OF RP:Casual, Post-Apocalyptic, Survival, Fandom, Slice-of-Life, Sci-Fi, Military, Horror, Character Emphasis ...
▸ GOAL OF RP:... Survive?
     Those that are unfortunate enough to find themselves venturing through what's left of the southeast will quickly learn that down here the Wasteland is king. The gulf is swarming with aggressive creatures and dangers, some that are more familiar and others foreign. Luckily for a few – there is safety from the perils of the outside world within the state-of-the-art vaults engineered by Vault-Tec.

     With powerful faction-backed interests turning to the ruined urban metros of Atlanta, a city transformed by war and civil strife, and unsettling terrors lurking everywhere from the coastal glades to the Appalachian holler; it's only a matter of time before more chaos lands right on the doorstep of this charming historic southern hellscape.

     Perhaps you'll find yourself in the protection of a vault. In the case of Vault 104, you may find yourself waking up from a long nap... A chilling rumor has spread among those who still dream, people 'put on the ice' deep within the halls of this vault and its affiliated regional shelters. After several months of radio silence from its sister Vault 115, the heart of the planned Project Icebox, the fate of Vault-Tec's extensive cryonics research is becoming uncertain.

     The stakes are higher after the mysterious disappearance of the Roboseer – an elusive artificial administrator who has closely maintained the functioning of Vault 104 and its shelter group supposedly since its early construction – and consequently, the residents as well as all known Vault-Tec personnel have remained locked in stasis indefinitely.

     Could this be you?

     How long you may have been asleep and for what purpose is unknown. You will surely be tested. It will be disorienting finding yourself in a strange place, suffering from the side effects of long-term cryonic suspension, but there will be others like you. Although, there's no guarantee that they're on your side, or that they are who they claim to be.

▸ INTRODUCTION

" War... War never changes.

In the late afternoon of October 23rd, 2077, the world as humanity knew it was changed forever. Erupting over the short span of a few hours, a third and ultimately final world war had been waged. Sparked between ideologically opposed nations spanning the globe, the Great War as it is remembered, decisively started and breathlessly ended in a cataclysmic nuclear firestorm.

The United States of America was no exception to the horrors of the Great War, suffering severe and egregious devastation from coast to coast. Any trace of America's proud former identity withered away in the days, months, and many years following the shocking events of the Great War. The scarred landscape that remained would come to be known simply as the Wasteland.

The fearsome power of the bombs permanently altered the face of the earth from which radical shifts occurred in the geologic fault lines of North America. Vast swaths of coastlines and large sections of what was once the gulf sunk into the ocean. National forests beloved for their federally protected beautiful wilderness were flattened by atomic blasts, and radioactive lakes flooded the lowlands and craters left across the derelict United States. The initial heating of the atmosphere during the inferno melted much of the polar ice caps and mercilessly drowned different parts of the planet. Entirely new mountain ranges began to form as the faults destabilized. The death and destruction was exceptionally unyielding as the planet rapidly cooled after, settling into a long, brutal nuclear winter.

Those lucky enough to have avoided a direct hit from the bombs would be faced with the catastrophic fallout, a cruel and gruesome alternative death sentence. For some parts of the country, the downfall of civilization was not a result of an immediate blast of hellish kinetic and radioactive energy, but rather from the collapse of the state and subsequent breakdown of common law. In the aftermath of the war, the riots, looting, and rampant violence would tear apart the few communities that were spared from obliteration. Many, many Americans would suffer an unfortunate demise as they succumbed to various forms of sickness, exposure, acute radiation poisoning, and murderous acts committed by the desperate survivors.

But, despite near total atomic annihilation, new civilizations would eventually begin to take root in the ruins of the old world. Although life was harsh and drastically different, in many ways certainly more dangerous, the wasteland would resolve itself to adapt in the wake of the Great War. In preparation for the possibility of an all-out global nuclear conflict, private enterprises like Vault-Tec were employed by the federal government to create shelters to protect the American people from the onslaught of the bombs. These fallout shelters, dubbed Vaults respectively, were designed as a means to ensure humanity's continued survival. These underground facilities were constructed with the latest population preservation technologies, longterm sustainability, robust systems infrastructure, recreational amenities, crisis contingencies, and carefully chosen leadership staff.

However, unwittingly to many residents of the Vaults, Vault-Tec and its government handlers would come to have more sinister objectives. Many of these shelters would turn out to be testing grounds for different, often unethical experimentation. "

... Welcome!

"War was always here. Before man was, war waited for him. The ultimate trade awaiting its ultimate practitioner."Blood Meridian by Cormac McCarthy
Way Down in Dixie is a Roleplay based upon the popular game titles known asFallout™! Our story takes place somewhere in the southeastern states, regions that have been largely ignored by the series.

     As for what one may expect while reading or participating, with the scope of Fallout being so vast, I intend to encourage much of the Roleplay into a sandbox-oriented adventure. Supporting our main cast will be a gradual introduction of world-building, political development, and some focuses around small faction oriented conflicts which will be woven in as a guiding undercurrent. With that timeless sandbox nature in mind, it should be anticipated that we'll be borrowing pieces from different parts of the games in order to mesh together something that is both new and exciting; as well as building upon something that is familiar.

     In some respects, the set and setting should reasonably avoid conflict with existing canon. Admittedly, my knowledge of lore following Fallout 76 is lacking. Characters, events, and major narrative elements that have existed in the games and other media should be viewed as truth; in other words, non-canon aspects of the Roleplay should not compromise the established plot. Although, as some contradictions are inevitable, perhaps it is better to consider this as a separate timeline? We'll be taking plenty of creative liberties to bring ideas, content, and inspiration from the whole series whenever appropriate, published or otherwise.

     Way Down in Dixie is a grim drama exploring the bleeding heart of the south. Or at least whatever is left of it. If the idea of a Fallout™ inspired Roleplay interests you and there's a void to fill until Fallout 5 is released... Maybe throw a post this way letting me know what you think, or if you have any questions.

     While you're here, I would like to offer some appreciation and a special thanks to Sofaking Fancy for inspiring much of this post. As well as the Fallout Fanon Wiki that is doing the heavy lifting for Atlanta's post-war history here. And finally, if you are interested in a pair of promising and currently active Fallout Roleplays, considerThe Vegas Affair & The Long Afternoon of the Mojave!

▸ INFORMATION

▸ LOCATIONS . . .

     The Southeast Commonwealth was one of the thirteen commonwealths of the pre-war United States of America. Created in the early 21st century, it was comprised of the former states of Georgia, South Carolina and North Carolina. This federal territory borders the Gulf, East Central and Columbia Commonwealth.
     NOTICE! There are a number of key locations listed below which will be relevant to our story. These will act as the primary theater of travels and events for our cast, and beyond! A general outline and description as well as additional areas will be expanded upon through content updates.

Rise of the New South

     The fall of the antebellum era was a surreal transformation for the weary spirit of the south. It was a tumultuous period marred by old world blues, the uncertain years of a great depression, an economic revival spurred on by a world at war, and the cultural growing pains of classist civil conflicts. The once largely conservative agrarian landscape had been tempered by radical industrialization. Among this, it was a staging ground for America, the daughter of Europe, whom crossed the Atlantic and wrested her mother from the thralldom of fascism. A seeding to a fresh start, and a divergent promise of a more enduring empire. Urbanization, continued reconstruction, and unprecedented social reform paved the way for a new beginning.

     And deep down under at the heart of it all, Atlanta resolved itself to be a paragon of civilization in the eventual rise of the 'New South'. From the ashes of the rebellions' defeat in the march to the sea, the great fires of the next century, to the dethroning of planter aristocracy amongst increasingly daring demonstrations of societal unrest; and through the harrowing of blood and soil, she had raised herself as the true dime piece of this once broken former confederate stronghold. Atlanta was the heiress of a generational paradigm shift which combined the values of nobility with the haughty vision of a middle-class elite.

     Atlanta was a terminus, the first stop and a final destination; a converging network of industry and influence whose metropolis naturally connected the world together through its rail and airway infrastructure. It was a nearly hundred year long ambitious climb, only to face decay and a near collapse as the energy crisis of the 2050's approached. It would not fair much better with the onset of the resource wars. And finally, in the decades which shadowed the inevitable decline of the golden New South, the world as a whole was plunged into a grisly nuclear rapture.

"Something about the civil tension and violence goes here ..."
–– Your MotherAftermath of Atlanta Post-War

     Georgia was certainly no haven from the onslaught of the bombs. It was a major target for its more than a dozen critical military installations scattered throughout the state. The impact of the nuclear assault on these bases and neighboring cities was a confusing theater during the bleak hours of the Great War.

     The Eastern Air Defense Sector was partly successful in repelling the initial volley. Dozens of Chinese submarines and hundreds of bombers painted by American satellites over the Atlantic had been rapidly neutralized with surgical precision during the earliest wave of launches; however, its shield sectors and capabilities for mitigation quickly became overwhelmed. NORAD was then left stunned as its largest pair of orbital defense platforms were knocked out of the sky by an unknown force. This crippled EADS ability to track, intercept, and counter the final stages of the attack. Atlanta, being a densely populated city and strategic objective, was swarmed by a reserve of long range rocket bombardments combined from covert Sino-African facilities that reduced huge sections of the city to rubble.

     The armaments which reached Atlanta proper and its outlying metro areas were thought to be lower yield, yet they were dirtied with crude atomic ordinance nonetheless. Survivors claimed to have witnessed the rosy flashes of an alleged experimental energy domed lattice overhead which absorbed some of the nukes in the stratus above Stone Mountain before flickering and failing. However, this is a story that, while not unsubstantiated, has been contested by self-proclaimed witnesses and in the centuries after has been long forgotten. The telephone game produces imaginative results with enough time. It may have been pure luck that the massive exposed granite monument wasn't turned into a glorified pit full of gravel stones.

     The remaining missiles fell like a heavy rain into the states' interior and ionized the air with a violent bright inferno. Skyscrapers slumped to the ground, steel megastructures melted, concrete buildings were blasted to bits, stretches of spaghetti super-highways were tossed from their anchors, historic brick-laid shops were flattened, prefabricated suburban homes were vaporized, and farms and forests were indiscriminately scorched. Atlanta was evidently battered by hits and miraculous misses. Savannah by comparison, for worse, was repeatedly struck until it was almost nothing but a smoldering crater which was soon after swallowed by the sea. Several salted nukes detonated in the southernmost cities and counties of the state which arguably had the deadliest fallout effect on the region.

     Adding to the carnage was the delayed response from the National Guard to mobilize against the crisis. It's difficult to help others when the unimaginable happens, your instincts telling you to first save your loved ones. Units were already stretched thin in and around Atlanta due to an ongoing enforcement of martial law which had spanned an entire year prior. The increased tension of the Sino-American war reaching mainland China, the uptick in incidence of corporate espionage which betrayed American technology to the enemy, threats of domestic terror, riots over food and energy scarcity, all of these factors played a role into a nationwide state of emergency. And a dangerous flu was spreading throughout the New South despite a decade of strict government coverups attempting to hide the true nature of this highly contagious pathogen.

     The people turned against one another. Fear and distrust boiled over into panic, hatred even. A population which had been oppressed, downright abused, and misled right up until their atomization. Corruption neglected the American superpower in its duty to protect its citizens; and many would lash out during the death throes of America's final days. Those who stayed within the wastes of the city quickly died from exposure and at the hands of each other.

     Then, the ghosts of Atlanta began to haunt the derelict ruins. Disembodied voices which whispered into groans of those trapped under debris whom slowly starved. An otherworldly black fog of ash would dampen all sound to eerie quietness and forcibly submit daylight to an unrelenting darkness. A bone chilling winter consumed the commonwealth the months and years after the holocaust. Many were forced to venture if only briefly out of whatever shelter they could hole up in into the intensely irradiated elements in search of food and water. And this would often lead them to their death. Anybody who managed to flee into the mountains was just as likely to never be seen again, as if they had stumbled from this life straight into purgatory.

▸   T R I B A L   T R O U B L E S
     The idea we may be inherently wild comes to mind when a so-called civilized people are stripped of their civilization, and a feral nature is revealed in the absence of common law and institutions of moralities. And yet, the grim struggle of the first generation to weather the cold nuclear twilight has nearly been forgotten by the progeny of those few that survived. Yes, we so easily take these things for granted. It continues to go beyond the evident dangers foreshadowing convenience born by a state which conditioned a population to be helplessly reliant on authority for its needs and safety. With no access to a power grid, a sick dependency on megacorporation's for food and clean water, and no viable means of transportation to bring humanitarian aid in; whole cities were wiped out overnight.

     Much of the wasteland that lives today fails to remember the brief but terrible stone age mankind had been reduced to when the Great War ended. It only took a few weeks and months for mass starvation and sickness to claim the lives of almost everybody that suffered through the fall of the bombs. Cannibalism crossed over from the realm of nightmares to a regular necessity in the more densely urban areas. And many of these folk would later transform into monstrous ghouls. And a further enumeration of individuals that had the resourceful means, sheer luck, or force unto others were gradually picked off by rapidly developing cancers.

     In spite of these overwhelming hardships, nature had resolved to coexist with the hazards of a planet burned by radioactive fire. After a prolonged and harsh winter, this new environment began to adapt at an accelerated pace. As the climate and ecologies stabilized, so did the remaining numbers of humankind which crawled forth from the barren wastes towards its former mantle of civilization. Pockets of small groups began to form on the surface after the ash finally settled. Things were quite different and life was still awfully short-lived. It took roughly a quarter of a century for the radiation to subside enough for the open ground to be somewhat safely traversed or disturbed.

     Tribalism would immediately root itself into the earliest appearances of both scavenger and raider families, and these post-apocalyptic hunter-gatherers did well to band together to carve out a primitive existence. For many years they would hide away in the mountains, the hills and the suburban wildernesses that surrounded Atlanta; only straying close to or penetrating the city limits when supplies were absolutely exhausted. The husk of these metropolises would seemingly lay abandoned in a state which the catastrophe of war had left them. Only the bravest, desperate or most foolhardy would venture into Atlanta's ruins. Scavengers who entered the city would die at the hands of ghouls, from radiation poisoning, or worse. Many of the younger tribal peoples storied Atlanta as cursed and chose to avoid it. Settlements would grow up around the ruins, but few dared to venture close to it.

▸   G R O W T H   &   D I V I S I O N
     Slowly, the ruins began to draw in scavengers and prospectors looking for pre-war tech or valuables, or even records of the past that might prove beneficial to the emergent cultures. Drawing on the lessons they had learned, these groups were usually better organized than simple lone wanderers and better equipped to deal with the obstacles in their way. At first, these expeditions were usually objective based and directed, not lingering too long within the derelict city. However, as the wealth that Atlanta offered became more and more apparent, these expeditions became broader and exceedingly involved with establishing base camps to work from or rally to if the worst came to the worst.

     News began to spread of further opportunity to be found here. Many came to try their own luck hoping for some significant find. Others came looking for a home, seeing the city as a way to build a better life and carve out their own space. An outbreak of internecine warfare between a number of tribal groups and homesteaders accelerated the process, and people fled into the downtown area to get away from the fighting.

     Within a decade, Atlanta had become a refuge to several communities. Most of these were small, covering little more than a city block and often widely separated from each other. Distance wasn’t the only thing dividing these people as much of the city had been overrun with wild animals, mutated creatures, ghouls and perilous hazards over the years. Adding to the chaos, raiders were among those who took up residence in the city, and they preyed on the weaker neighboring groups around them.

     No central authority existed within the metropolis, and no single settlement proved to have any advantage over the other. The result was that violence became commonplace as different tribes fought for some modicum of control. Many of these problems came from bickering over resources, pre-war technology or scavenging rights to particular locations. In other cases, they were at odds for minor or otherwise trivial differences. Some had inherited conflicts from outside that simply carried over into the new environment.

     The outcome was that while Atlanta now boasted numerous settlements and growing communities, there was no cooperation between them. Instead, it would spend four decades locked in low-level battles between its population. These conflicts served little purpose but to sow mistrust and prevent one group from rising to power, or even forming meaningful alliances. It was not until the arrival of outside intervention that any semblance of peace would take root, and that was at a hefty price.

▸   C I V I L   W A R   W O E S
          Originally starting out as pre-war survivalist commune, the Georgia Hills Confederacy had quietly grown in power and prominence over the decades. While the tribals and the inhabitants of Atlanta had fought among themselves, the leaders of the Confederacy had spent their time quietly amassing power and resources in isolation. While they had their own share of problems (including several famines and a civil war in the 2140s), the Confederacy’s leaders remained confident for their own future.

Their biggest boost came in 2170 when a Confederacy scouting force stumbled into a cache of pre-war military weapons, likely left behind by a National Guard unit after the Great War. These weapons were far ahead of those used by the Tribals and other groups in and around Atlanta, giving the Confederacy a considerable technological edge. With this new arsenal at their disposal, the Confederacy’s leader, General Jackson Longstreet, announced a bold vision for the future. The Confederacy would take the city and make it their own, and build their own empire.

Besides their weapons, the Confederacy had been quietly building up an army from its people. Better trained and organised then the tribals and raiders that they targeted, the Confederacy Army was now bolstered by the presence of automatic rifles and even energy weapons that they had recovered. Strict discipline (including harsh punishments for failure) and rewards for loyalty and performance ensured that morale remained high.

Despite these advantages, however, the Confederacy moved slowly and cautiously towards Atlanta, careful not to overstretch themselves or bite off more than they could handle at once. Instead, they picked off communities one by one, bringing them down with superior skill, organisation and firepower. The survivors of the conquered communities were enslaved, and put to work to serve the Confederacy. This slow and methodical approach enabled the Confederacy to pluck off its disorganised, factitious foes at their leisure, all the while creating a steady supply chain to support their advance.

While the Confederacy had suffered losses and setbacks in their campaign thus far, there was no question of their success. Confident that they were ready, Longstreet ordered his troops to enter Atlanta proper and bring the city under their control. The army took a deliberate, divide and conquer approach, singling out and crushing each independent community in turn. As expected, the other settlements refused to work with each other, divided by decades of mistrust while also not quite understanding what they faced.

Even with these advantages, the campaign for Atlanta was by no means an easy one. Despite the Confederacy’s advantages, their enemies still knew the city better than they did, allowing them to dig in and use what they could to defend themselves. Other hazards also slowed their advance, as wild creatures proved to be as much a risk as enemy fire. On numerous occasions, the Confederacy was forced to conscript troops from their conquered peoples, using them as cannon fodder against enemy defences.

In April 2189, the last organised settlement in Atlanta fell to the confederacy. General Longstreet declared himself the president of the newly formed Atlanta Confederacy, proclaiming it to be an ‘empire of humanity in a sea of filth’.

"You cannot qualify war in harsher terms than I will. War is cruelty, and you cannot refine it; and those who brought war into our country deserve all the curses and maledictions a people can pour out. I know I had no hand in making this war, and I know I will make more sacrifices to-day than any of you to secure peace."
–– General William Tecumseh Sherman
     Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.

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▸   B L U E   F L U   L O O M S
          Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.

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"Something about the super mutant uprising here ..."
–– Your Mother
▸   S U P E R   M U T A N T   S C O U R G E
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▸   P E A C E   &   R E C O N C I L I A T I O N
     Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.

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"Something about the new Atlanta reconstruction goes here ..."
–– Your Mother
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▸   P E R I M E T E R   C I T Y   &   C E N T E R
          Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.

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"Something about the perimeter city here ..."
–– Your Mother
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▸ OTHER LANDMARKS

▸   M O R G A N   F A L L S   H Y D R O   P L A N T
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▸   M A R I E T T A   D O B B I N S   S W O R D B A S E
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▸   T H E   C A P I T O L   M U S E U M
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▸   H A R T S F I E L D - J A C K S O N   A I R P O R T
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▸   G E O R G I A   I N S T I T U T E   O F   T E C H N O L O G Y
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▸   E M O R Y   U N I V E R S I T Y
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▸   W O R L D   O F   N U K A - C O L A   H Q
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▸   C H R Y S L U S - C O R V E G A   S T A D I U M
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▸   U N D E R G R O U N D   A T L A N T A
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▸   M I D T O W N   &   A T L A N T I C   S T A T I O N
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▸   T H E   F O X   T H E A T E R
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▸   A T L A N T A   F E D E R A L   P R I S O N
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▸   W E S T - T E K   C D C   R & D   F A C I L I T Y
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▸   S I X   F L A G S   O V E R   G E O R G I A
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▸   T H E   G E O R G I A   A Q U A R I U M
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▸   T H E   A T L A N T A   Z O O
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     . . .

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     The East Central Commonwealth was one of the thirteen commonwealths of the pre-war United States of America. Created in the early 21st century, it was comprised of the former states of Ohio, Kentucky and Tennessee. This federal territory borders the Columbia, Eastern, Gulf, Great Midwest, Southeast, Plains and Texas Commonwealth.
     NOTICE! These regions are reserved for the purposes of character backstory and dialogue, should you desire to draw from them. A rough summary of notable places are provided however they will remain inaccessible for the time being. Suggestions are welcome!

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     The Gulf Commonwealth was one of the thirteen commonwealths of the pre-war United States of America. Created in the mid-20th century, it was comprised of the former states of Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, and Florida. This federal territory borders the Southeast, East Central and Texas Commonwealth.
     NOTICE! These regions are reserved for the purposes of character backstory and dialogue, should you desire to draw from them. A rough summary of notable places are provided however they will remain inaccessible for the time being. Suggestions are welcome!

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▸ FACTIONS . . .

HEADQUARTERSLEADERSHIPFOCUS
AtlantaGovernor Stanley CassomMilitia
"Some sort of quote here about the new republic ..."
–– Governor Stanley CassomThe Lantatown Minutemen

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     . . .

HEADQUARTERSLEADERSHIPFOCUS
BlairsvilleSuper HightowerBushcraft
"Caring for the Land and Serving People."
–– Abandoned National Park PlacardThe Dixieland Rangers

     Ah, the Good Ol' Boys! Wardens. Wild Scouts. Rangers? Just don't call them brownshirts, picklepants, or bighats. They've taken a variety of labels with plenty doing a pretty fair justice at pinning the nature of their duty. It is unknown to outsiders when exactly this group came to fruition, but it is believed to have survived since the beginning of the Great War. When the fallout hit, many tried to evacuate the surrounding suburbs of cities which had been targets of the bombs and booked it for the mountains. A gambit to get away from the violence, the riots, the looting and the perilous desperation of rival survivors. A bold strategy to disappear into the thick of the Appalachian trails and far from the denser populated civil centers which were crumbling into disarray.

     From the outset, the Rangers were there to assist those who needed it. Steadfast in a resolve to help others. Societal institutions struggled to maintain order with the foremost first-responders such as that of the police, firefighters and emergency services doing the absolute best that they could to mitigate disaster. It would all inevitably go to hell in a hand basket. There was simply too much chaos and death for the minority of these departments to handle. It was a grave situation. And it was not long before these heroes would be overwhelmed by the crisis.

     With a diverse mixture of skills involving the likes of land navigation, wildlife management, the reliable sourcing of fresh water, agrarian knowledge and other specializations of outdoorsmanship under their belt; it was a natural if not slightly odd triumph of those that were modestly employed by the national park services to thrive in a world where most would soon struggle. Over the course of the two centuries following, settlers cautiously sought refuge in these untouched wildernesses. It would transform in due time from a rudimentary organization of basecamps into a fully fledged paramilitary. A recruitment effort was made to assimilate the willing and able into a rugged regiment of frontiersmen. And these newly assembled Rangers while guided by strikingly charitable leadership remained faithful to their pre-war creed.

     Interestingly, since the wasteland doesn't quite trust or even like ghouls for one reason or another, the Good Ol' Boys have developed as a haven for the unwelcome roughskins. It's a great gig for getting away from the hustle and bustle. The old wardens of the forests refuse to resign themselves to abuse, and instead pledge an oath to a worthy purpose. Much of the senior ranks in the Rangers are in fact occupied by ghouls. Some of them have been around since the pre-war days as respected progenitors.

     . . .

HEADQUARTERSLEADERSHIPFOCUS
Blue RidgeName HereMercantile
"Notions of chance and fate are the preoccupation of men engaged in rash undertakings. Everything in life has a price; each choice we make is a transaction. It's only with the passage of time that we realize sometimes much to our regret whether the cost was worth it."
–– Cormac McCarthyThe Blue Ridge Caravan Company

     This company has risen to stardom as the premiere confederation of caravanners, a mixed cavalcade that has stood up a vast network of winding rail lines and burgeoning trails throughout the Dixieland wastes. The influence of the Blue Ridge Caravan Company (BRCC) is considerable as most problems can usually be solved by a shiny trinket, a hot meal, or a sack of caps.

     Recognizably, they've coined the nickname 'bricks' in light of the phonetics of their business acronym. Perhaps this is also fueled by the not-so-secret peddling of powdery substances. Added to their sobriquet, the company has successfully reared a unique breed of paint horse whose coat mirrors the famous color of Georgia red clay adorned in sandy white geometric splotches. Like other grazing animals such as the beloved brahmin, these beasts of burden unfortunately suffer from a myriad of radiation related defects which reduce their lifespan. They tend to have a disposition to always remain wild and are difficult to control. Still, they are a best bet for honest work.

     For decades the Blue Ridge Caravan Company has painfully dispatched repairs to various critical railroads throughout the southeastern and central commonwealth. For example, it is credited to the steady hands and watchful eyes of the BRCC that the radio city Ol' Nash was reconnected to the greater Dixieland. Not just the integration of a somewhat reliable transportation grid, but sponsoring the allocation of money and minds to broaden the capabilities of the surviving satellite towers which put Nash squarely back on the map as the true blue American dream; promising a life of ambition, wealth, and new beginnings. All of this was propagated by the widespread use of slaves. A brighter future didn't come without a cost, a sacrifice. Everything has a price.

     From the tough war torn streets of Memphis, to the vibrancy of Ol' Nash, to the hushed wilderness of Chattanooga, all the way to the bustling shanty Lantatown; the bricks can be found escorting a seemingly endless flow of wares to wherever there are warm bodies to bargain for them. The offices of these tradesmen have spread far and wide. This isn't to say they don't have a place of their own to settle, the regional branch headquarters of the BRCC is well-founded within the ranges of Georgia's northern mountains. Historic Blue Ridge, where many stay to retire, a small city whose prosperous scenic railway cuts straight through the downtown district. The affluence of the city has gathered among several other communities in the surrounding ridges and valleys such as Mineral Bluff, Dahlonega, and the fortified codependent Ranger Station: Brasstown Bald.

     . . .

HEADQUARTERSLEADERSHIPFOCUS
Stone MountainGovernor Oliver GoughPolitics
"A man's at odds to know his mind cause his mind is aught he has to know it with. He can know his heart, but he don't want to. Rightly so. Best not to look in there. It ain't the heart of a creature that is bound in the way that God has set for it. You can find meanness in the least of creatures, but when God made man the devil was at his elbow. A creature that can do anything. Make a machine. And a machine to make the machine. And evil that can run itself a thousand years, no need to tend it."
–– Cormac McCarthyThe Antebellum Covenant

     An aristocratic remnant of the snakehead that orchestrated the establishment of the Georgia Hills Confederacy. Originally hailing leadership of the Kinsmen, this so-called noble family asserts itself by the name, Antebellum, as a treatise of their concessions; literally meaning, "before the war". While it resumes a peculiar influence on the Dixie Wasteland, the Antebellum has become a progressively fading memory of the prominence it wielded only a generation or two prior. The reappearance of the Blue Flu which precipitated the ill death of their patriarch Ariesar Gough was a significant contribution to the decline of the family's cohesion. And before this, of course, was the West-Tek facility tragedy that befell his eldest son. A rumor has evolved, stipulated for political gain by those who opposed the Confederacy, that Ariesar's son was himself transformed into the monster that the Super Mutant scourge emerged from.

     Years of post-nuclear civil war resentment, peripheral but intense uprisings, and the toll that it took during the scouring of Super Mutants has hollowed out the spirit of the Kinsmen. The recent era of peacetime following Antebellum's unspoken agreement to withdraw from Atlanta, and the formation of the New Lantatown city-state, has put the antiquated faction on parole. To an outsider it would seem the family no longer desires to fight.

     However, a fool would misunderstand this for some sort of weakness. Antebellum holds its cards closer than ever, a dead man's hand one might say, and the fog of war may merely obfuscate what lies beneath. The surrogated wealth of Antebellum is said to be limitless, perhaps even challenging that of the Blue Ridge Caravan Company. And, there is something mysterious about the Stone Mountain and those surrounding plantations. But, except within the phratry of the Gough's, the broader Dixieland remains precluded from discovering its secrets.

     . . .

HEADQUARTERSLEADERSHIPFOCUS
UnknownUnknownMercenary
"Some kind of quote from someone important in the faction here? Lmao."
–– NobodyThe Gunners Cadre

     The origins of this powerful organization are shrouded by blood and brass casings. And a lot of bottlecaps. Some say they are a humble remnant of the United States military that had broken away shortly after the Great War, others say they are nothing but ruthless thugs no better than a bunch of guns for hire, and others ... Well, the wildest of accusations muttered up north being that they are descendants of an experimental super-soldier program. Without question, they are highly coordinated and extremely dangerous. Operating on a need-to-know basis, all you are required to know as an outsider is to stay out of their damn way.

     It was only a few years ago that these chicken coop troopers were merely a scattered outfit of nostalgic greenhorns loosely wielded by a beholden sense of patriotism. The craters of former bases these men would linger around, "Nationals" they were dubbed in those days, but they've since been conscripted by the arrival of Gunner Cadre elites into a legitimate army. Their numbers were limited and their projection of power back then in comparison to the present day was like holding a candle to a nuclear firestorm. When the bombs fell they had tried and ultimately failed to maintain order during the collapse of civilization as we formerly understood it. Until eventually the fractured home of the infantry and its reserves crumbled to dust. With the slow turning of the hands of time, bleeding away from the abrupt destruction of humanity's greatest military power, and generations later they have seen an unprecedented revival. Why? Nobody really knows, but they're here and they are looking for something.

     And they mean business, in the business of being mean.

     This shadowy merc-corps has seemingly had no qualms about making enemies with the established do-gooders of the region. When the Brotherhood of Steel chanced upon discovering the Gunner's whereabouts pushing towards the Carolina's, an isolated and yet nonetheless heavily mechanized division was sent to secure the Hartwell Dam which resulted in an intense, decisive firefight. A devastating trap had been laid. Months of covert incursions as the Gunner Cadre ghosted in and out of the surrounding greater Atlanta areas repossessing weapons and tech the BOS were attempting to stockpile had gradually beckoned the Brotherhood into the greens' homefield territory like a moth to a flame. A counter-offensive was immediately launched with unmatched mobility, and spearheaded by the shock of a small fleet of vertibirds. The infamous Fast Battle of Marietta erupted, followed by a lucky breakout in the midst of the night raid, and the BOS Dobbins Swordbase was subsequently annihilated with lightning efficiency. How the hell did they get their hands on a tacbomb!? And, the worry remains, do they have another...?

     These unpredictable events have placed the Brotherhood on the backfoot, their small chapter cut to pieces, being forced to withdraw their campaign of protection over Lantatown. The Governor is unusually indifferent about the situation, seeing both sides as unwarranted aggressors, however it is clear the pressure of the conflict is building tension within his office.

     . . .

HEADQUARTERSLEADERSHIPFOCUS
Dobbins SwordbaseElder Seraphim Loraine IVTechnology
"When the world uncovers some dark disguise, embrace the darkness with averted eyes."
–– Grimscribe Thomas LigottiThe Brotherhood of Steel

     Wherever there is even the slightest trace of pre-war technology, the Brotherhood of Steel will come knocking. It's a story as old as the country itself, harkening back in parallel to the days when the United States scrambled its military might to secure petroleum, oil, and uranium sources. It was always about control. And the Brotherhood of Steel is no exception to this rule. But, times have evidently changed and the goal posts have been moved. The corps of the Brotherhood have tirelessly strived to save us from ourselves, by their own admission, humanity cannot be trusted with the opportunistic power of big tech.

     This mantra has begun to take different forms as splinters of the Brotherhood of Steel have scattered on the wind to nearly every corner of the American commonwealth wastelands. While allegiances to the call have stood without wavering, Outcasts being a notable loyalist deviation in particular, each branch of the old steel tree has adopted differing ideals. The east coast has witnessed largely reformist visions. Perhaps they are looking for something larger than themselves. Or, aligned with the original mission, some figures seek to pacify those who would use the advantages of dangerous technology against their fellow man. It would seem the armor of isolationism is being chipped away, no matter which path is walked, the attrition continues.

     The achievements did not come without an onus bearing noble prestige. The undermanned but never outgunned chapter which placed its foothold in the southeastern commonwealth was a blessing to many. A thorn to others, such as those dastardly mutants and brigands. A generation ago the chapter was tolerated at best, but after several campaigns of humanitarian aid and close to total extermination of the super mutant threat that once haunted the Atlanta areas; the group has grown in recognition as a fatherly cloak over the people. And further to the acclaim of the Brotherhood, regular engagements with and the putting down of raider scum and feral ghoul hives has brought an uncanny era of peacetime to these lands. They weren't here to be a police force, though. An undeniable amount of faith had been put in power-armored hands to serve as a necessary protectorate cause, which may never had been deserving by the inhabitants of Dixieland, but was always needed.

     It wouldn't last forever. As the saying goes, no good deeds go unpunished. To the surprise of almost everybody, 'almost' being a key element of pretext, the Brotherhood of Steel would be severely crippled by the overwhelmingly violent brawn of the Gunner Cadre. A new contender, provoked or unprovoked, the aftermath of this open war is all the same. With their teeth knocked out through the decimation of the Dobbins Swordbase, armor depots obliterated, reconstituted airfields cratered, and weapons caches blown up or raided; the paladins are staring down the barrel of a microfusion laser cannon, uncertain if surviving this setback is possible. If it weren't for a brief and valiant breakout that permitted a hasty retreat, this story would surely be over already.

     The light is fading and the night is crawling closer. The long winter approaches in the far distance. A proud chapter written in austere self-sacrifice, now closing.

     . . .

HEADQUARTERSLEADERSHIPFOCUS
The GreyhoundCharming CharlieSlaving Raiders
"When the lambs is lost in the wilderness, they's cry. Sometime come the mother. Sometime the wolf."
–– Cormac McCarthyThe Swamp Dogs

     Reigning in the depths of the gulf, starting from the Florida Parishes, and stretching out to the east as far as Jacksonville are ragtag raider sects known ruefully as the Swamp Dogs; a subservient animal which answers to the dreaded Rey de las Cadenas and his regent cruel prince, Damien. The flowery glades of Florida are no longer what they once were, instead filled with dark canopies and even darker waters. There is an eerie information blackout regarding La Florida and some believe this has prompted settlers and raiders alike to refuge northward. The drastic changes in coastlines and terrain as a result of the Great War has proved difficult to navigate. It has been said though, as distant as parts of Miami still stand on golden sands of a narrow, nearly inaccessible land-bridge. Attributed to this is the superstition that the Devil himself is in league with the feudal barons of Miami.

     This is neither here nor there, as the Swamp Dogs have historically behaved as disorganized outland enforcers for the monarchy and his warlord barons. In exchange for their services they are spared from Damien's wrath. They're known to round up unfortunate souls who stray too far south. Often they leave the swamps and sticks to seek out fresh blood, binding those they come across to a life of slavery. Many disenfranchised folk are forced to work the fields, farms, and plantations of southern Georgia that are alleged to aid the enrichment and supplementation of the scarce territories of La Florida.

     They are reasonably resourceful in their own right. Got some sick knack for making semi-permanent homes out of the most unassuming places, and then suddenly abandoning them in pursuit of a better prize. A crude village strung up in the tops of trees is cool, but you know what's cooler? A washed out submarine. Better than that, a submarine helmed by bloodthirsty slaving raiders. Pretty baller. Besides this, you have to be bad to the bone in order to thick it out in those treacherous salt marshes. You have to keep your head on a swivel and a certain brutality is necessary in that struggle. Because the radigators which infest these wetlands do not play by the rules of man. They are fiercely territorial and do not take prisoners or skip meals.

     The numbers of the Swamp Dogs swell almost daily. Somehow they’ve managed to get a hold of updated equipment and newish weapons. A few estranged former members have even spun a yarn about there being a coven of witches whom practice magic amongst their senior ranks. It is believed that they have multiple bases ranging from the growing parishes and climbing towards Albany, as a lot of that land goes unused and undiscovered. Employing riverboats and other watercraft the dogs are curiously drifting north. They’re led by an enigmatic man regarded by those who know him as Charming Charlie. A rather peculiar doctrine they have adopted, one of their few altruistic moves is taking in orphaned children and nurturing them as their own kin rather than subjugated directly into enslavement.

     Though, it doesn't much matter if your chain is a few feet long or a hundred feet long. At the end of the day, you are still on the chain.

     . . .

HEADQUARTERSLEADERSHIPFOCUS
UnknownPrince CrepúsculoChem Fiends
"Some kind of quote here"
–– AuthorThe Florida Man

     The dark forces of neon motels, supermalls and sandcastles, these marauders are said to hail from the stormy provinces of La Florida. A truly barbaric group of anachronistic warrior goths whose sight alone strikes fear in weak hearts. While the sum of these brutes are bottlenecked to a handful of nonpareil malefactors, their presence in the backcountry stirs terror. They serve the ruling figures of distant fiefdoms as masters, grim knight-errants, and reapers of souls. These chem fiends and slavers are unique in their affinity for beast taming, a myth circulating of having enlisted the clutch of a rogue deathclaw matriarch. Hearsay and nightmare fuel to scare children from wandering off of the homestead.

     A roving murderous throng which is marshaled by a young malevolent man deemed the 'Darkhorse', Damien Constantine Crepúsculo, or the 'Demon Prince'. Many are unaware of his identity beyond the threshold of bavardage, and grisly accounts trickling up the fall line of Georgia to the larger settlements within the piedmont.

     What most have not surmised is the relationship Damien's gang have with La Florida's monarch, baronies, and her vassal parishes. A solemn but discreet decree of exile has been placed upon the prince and his cohorts. For reasons entirely unknown. This has led them to journey north in pursuit of reconciliation, lashing out against those who would stand in their way towards regaining beneficium with their royal pedigree. A redemption which for all intents and purposes must be paid in blood, or ill-gotten treasure.

     . . .

HEADQUARTERSLEADERSHIPFOCUS
John's MountainWillieOccultism
"What's wrong, chief? Cat got your tongue? Be not afraid, for I am man's best friend."
–– Willie the Great HoundThe Gospel of Dog

     The Gospel of Dog!? You best not be laughin'. Oddly enough, they don't have any associations with those diabolical Swamp Dog hooligans. Religion can get fairly radical down here deep in the sticks, but there's nothing more inconceivable yet so humorously corporeal as the Followers of Dog. An extraordinary tale of a telepathic hound capable of igniting fires with his mind. His name is Willie. You may scoff at this, heck probably even choke on a drink and accidentally aspirate, however many a skeptic have gone to see Willie and had been changed by what they've seen. The Brotherhood leaves this strange cult alone, as attempting to prove their claims as falsehoods would provoke a small army to their doorstep; and they don't want to consider the absurd ramifications if the rumors by chance happened to be true.

     Willie was there before the bombs fell, and a human to witness the war. And he swore he died during the aftermath, though he was reborn in this land many many years later in this form, gifted with the powers given to him from the Great Beyond. The story meanders on like that for a while. One shouldn't cross Willie. His pack is fanatical to the point of being sadistic, although they mostly keep to themselves, and if you believe what you may have heard ... He can burn you quite badly.

     They seem to be partly nomadic, going wherever the dog bids them to go. It is said that these people currently inhabit a makeshift camp somewhere within the pocket near the summit of John's Mountain. This wouldn't be the first case of something otherworldly being drawn into these mountains, and it won't be the last.

     . . .

HEADQUARTERSLEADERSHIPFOCUS
DahlonegaName HereMercantile
"Some kind of quote from someone important in the faction here? Lmao."
–– NobodyThe Country Club

     Ah yes, the uppity Country Club. It depends on who you know, of course. It should be noted that this is not your typical old world gentleman's league, but actually more akin to an artisan's guild. Although, make no mistake, the inclinations of hungry pre-war contentious culture permeates the club. Politics and money drive their endeavors much the same as you'd expect from a private enterprise. They've managed to carve out a decent reputation for themselves while having built a prominent resort base nestled in the foothills of the quaint Dahlonega. It was nothing except a sleepy hollow for packers and huntsmen alike a few generations prior.

     However, upon rediscovering the gold mines located in the mountain streams, shafts, and waterfalls along this vibrant holler; a rush to explore its forgotten riches sprung about. Within a few years a handful of businesses were established between the families which settled the town. And it was in their better interests to delegate their governance and crafts to the leadership of an ambitious circle, the Country Club was that circle.
     
     While they may not possess the fancy schmancy know-how to refurbish, rebuild, or by any means could they manufacture new bleeding-edge tech rivaling the frequently sought after gadgets from the pre-war era; the guild does sport a sedulous refinement of early industrial skills. A massive lumber mill complex positions itself at the sprawling heart of the Country Club that operates almost year round with superb efficiency. The men who labor here are a few of the greatest carpenters the post-war wasteland has seen, and are commissioned regularly to send foremen to neighboring settlements to assist in hopeful construction projects. And what would the hype be without the melting pot of gold that runs down these slopes? The precious metal mines located here are fiercely guarded and painstakingly bored deeper by the big boys who blast rock the old-fashioned way.

     The outgoing trade of the Country Club is complimented by breweries and a refined selection of sprawling vineyards nearby. It isn't too difficult to get to, but much like the town itself, it is heavily protected. They've got cannons, don't you know? You don't want to see what it does to a person. Sometimes the radsquirrels get some target practice, and that's a gruesome sight. The trees don't very much appreciate the carnage.

     The Country Club is always looking to expand their scope if it means profit or protection. A new mill is in the works as they have procured some machining equipment thanks to the help of the Curiosity Gang. It won't be long before they're capable of lathing new barrels, assembling receivers, and minting fresh ammunition. Other parts such as handmade stocks and simpler items are exported to the Blue Ridge Caravan Company by the batches.

     . . .

HEADQUARTERSLEADERSHIPFOCUS
UnknownUnknownAbolition
"The only difference between the saint and the sinner is that every saint has a past and every sinner has a future."
–– Oscar WildeThe Railroad Saints

     Ain't no two ways about it, the Railroad Saints are the underdogs of the Dixieland. They've caught a lot of heat for disturbing the status quo by endeavoring in pointblank efforts to shelter runaway slaves. A rogue organization that's obviously garnered inspiration from the historic civil war museums of old that describe the struggles of the underground railroad. Oh, how the tables have turned. Now, ideals of freedom are considered by some circles as rebellious, a wry contrast to the rebels defeated during the era of the confederacy. At least things are getting better. The Blue Ridge Caravan Co. is in the midst of phasing out the last of its captive labor trade, with an official policy on the table ready to be signed any day now. And the Saints would argue the company is dragging their feet.

     There's a cheeky idiom that carries a sentiment somewhere along the lines of: it ain't about the size of the dog in the fight, it's about the size of the fight in the dog. Opposition would claim these words don't much apply to these chain breaking commandos. Historically, engagements between the resistance and others have ended with the Railroad Saints running with their tail between their legs. Wait, what's with all the alluding to dogs, anyway? Get a grip. Anyway, it's caused them to teasingly pick up the name 'Railroad Runners', but make no mistake these men and women are no cowards. Picking your fights is a higher virtue of the wasteland, it'll keep your head on your shoulders.

     The Saints may be down on their luck, living in squalor camps discreetly dotting the countryside, getting pushed around by bigger and badder bullies. They are poorly outfitted and underequipped to launch a serious campaign neither in force nor diplomacy. This has not discouraged them. Until the rights and freedoms born to every man, woman, and child of the commonwealths are guaranteed once again; they will not rest.

.

     . . .

HEADQUARTERSLEADERSHIPFOCUS
TechtowerName HereInvestigation
"Some kind of quote from someone important in the faction here? Lmao."
–– NobodyThe Curiosity Gang

     Probably the more bizarre of the larger, well-known factions, the Curiosity Gang manages to beat out the Brotherhood for the most destructive, yet most helpful bunch. A mixture of paramilitary folk, egghead intellectuals, nosey sleuths and people who just honestly want to figure out 'what the front door' is going on! They roam the heartland of Georgia and the Atlanta metro areas in search of information about pre-war times. They'll go to great lengths to find it, and in their pursuit they may have destroyed a settlement or two. They didn't mean to, promise!

     The Curiosity Gang has a headquarters of sorts near the ruins of Emory University's campuses while supplemented by a small band of Brotherhood of Steel that work alongside the eccentric group via a weary partnership. The Governor doesn't pay them much mind as as they do invite tourists to visit them. They have a notable museum set up in the downtown area. The means by which they have managed to gather and curate their treasures is questionable, but the substantial contents assuredly are not up for questioning. Just don't touch the displays. No, seriously, you will be shot.

     . . .

HEADQUARTERSLEADERSHIPFOCUS
Talking RockName HereHunting
"There is no Hal, man's a witticism. An apparition. Do you know Hal? Have you ever seen the guy in the same room? No? If you don't know, you know."
–– John StupidThe Hal-less Huntsmen

     The legend is unfounded, there is in fact nobody named Hal in the Huntsmen. Sorry for the twist, the disappointment must be immeasurable and your day may be ruined. But rest assured, if there was a Hal hypothetically, these goons would likely have no trouble finding him. Hal's Huntsmen are somewhat prolific, a proud profession and undoubtedly they have lived up to the name. Well, half of the name, the huntsmen part at least. It's a straight forward coterie of perceptive types that excel in the art of hunting, tracking, and trapping. Like the Country Club, admission is pretty exclusive, and they happen to share some members between the two groups. Just don't confuse one for the other, guy.

     Although they have a bit of history contracting for odd jobs as well as pulling security for the occasional ghoulish old lady, you shouldn't count on them as mercenaries. That's not their game, you dig? Huntsmen are akin to a family of sorts and they take to defending their honor rather seriously. They've died for their forgotten country, they've died for their kin, and they've died killing men; a most honorable sin. This has generally turned them away from the spilling of bad blood. Going back to their roots of the 'wild chase', these men are purpose driven to bring down the unbridled critters and creatures that arguably rule the Dixie Wasteland wherever humanity fails to settle. And time and again, this doesn't stop nature from trying to reclaim its grounds from the people, bullets or background radiation be damned.

     In spite of the family oriented business, Huntsmen are also known to be solitary during their peak seasons, or work in pairs. You can find a few of them traveling in many different trails of the valley and ridge, smokies, Appalachia, and bringing their bounties down through the piedmont to the likes of Lantatown. Some of them tend to congregate near the lakes Allatoona and Sydney Lanier during the summer where there is a trading-post and Huntsmen Lodge, respectively. Most of their caps come from perennial agreements with the BRCC to supply radstag, wolf, fox, beaver, and several other meats & furs throughout the year.

     . . .

"It was not well to drive men into final corners; at those moments they could all develop teeth and claws."–– Stephen CraneThe Po' Boys

          Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.

     Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.

     Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.

     . . .

The Stateline Mob

          Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.

     Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.

     Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.

     . . .

The Thrillers

          Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.

     Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.

     Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum.

     . . .

▸ ...
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▸ BESTIARY . . .

"PLACEHOLDER"Nobody
Fill information.

majors:
- deathclaw
- gatorclaw or radigator
- mirelurk variants
- crawrad
- radscorpion
- gulper
- angler
- fog crawler
- yao guai

minors:
- crawrad?
- tick
- radroach
- stingwing
- bloatfly
- cave cricket
- firefly
- giant ant
- bloodbug
- honeybeast
- wolf
- radrat
- opposum
- molerat
- mongrel
- radstag
- brahmin
- fox
- beaver
- radsquirrel (lol)
- radchick (lol)

"PLACEHOLDER"Nobody
Fill information.
to be added:
- arborclaw
- silverfish
- thunderbird
- hogzilla
- skunkape
- direwolf
- wendigo

▸ LORE . . .

Some kind of quote from the senator that funded the project...?NobodyThe Question of Time

Around the year of 2063, most of the vaults commissioned by the United States government were nearing completion. This included many of the  control vaults, seventeen in total, which were the chosen few that had been built to the specifications Vault-Tec had promised the American people. As the '60s rolled through and more vaults began and finished construction, congress was facing increasing pressure to stretch the dollar for Vault-Tec and its affiliate organizations.

With funding built entirely on a structure of junk bonds and unregulated lending, the vaults intended for Project Safehouse and the SPP were putting a heavy strain on an unbridled federal budget. An opportunity was proposed by a particularly wealthy senator from the Southeastern Commonwealth.

Through a series of backroom deals and favors, congress quietly passed a new proposal that would funnel more taxpayer money into Vault-Tec's balance sheets. Not only this, but Vault-Tec and its derivatives would gain access to key research initiatives in order to accelerate the construction of later, more highly advanced experimental shelters.

Project Icebox, it was called. Or rather it was one among many. The nature of the name given was typical, cliché some could say, but fitting nonetheless. It was part of an almost last-minute contingency plan that was commandeered from Vault-Tec's subsidiary branch, Future-Tec. The primary focus of Project Icebox was to take advantage of the research going into the LEAP-X Program, however it extended its aim further into the field of cryonics where its name Icebox was later adopted.

The end-game of Project Icebox was to remove time itself from the equation, while in the same stroke also eliminating many of the strains that came with building an experimental vault. In the late 2060's, Absolute Cryonic Stasis(ACS) technology had reached a critical point in terms of medical viability. Most notably, parts of this technology and its precursors would be found in the LEAP-X Program, Vault 111, Vault 112, Vault 87, the Sierra Army Depot, as well as the LS Chamber.

What Project Icebox enabled in the simplest sense was the possibility of timeless, relatively cheap "control" vaults. If large blocks of vault residents remained suspended in stasis indefinitely – Vault-Tec could construct much smaller shelters that no longer required extensive methods of longterm sustainability, storage, living quarters, waste faculties, etc. A vault population would be capable of surviving centuries without needing food, water, clean air, or medicine.

It was in this regard that the heavily theorized program had aimed to gather and preserve the best and brightest America had to offer; by simply waiting out the nuclear holocaust through a deep hibernation of sorts.

With the successful realization of ACS technology, Future-Tec and its directors would employ a research division to develop a new Z.A.X artificial-intelligence program that would be responsible for supervising vaults intended for Project Icebox. This Z.A.X AI would operate independently, but would be aided by a skeleton crew of Vault-Tec personnel assigned to their respective shelters to ensure project directives were followed; and to mitigate any malfunctions or other failures that may arise.

In the summer of 2073, Project Icebox was well on its way towards fulfillment.

While it initially began on the west coast with the commission of Vault [??], the project was delayed on several occasions over the course of two years – before finally being scrapped and relocated after an internal dispute, followed by a hefty buyout from a private investor. With tensions across the globe mounting and time running out, Project Icebox needed a discreet locale preferably a comfortable distance away from any major cities or industry.

Nevertheless, it found a home. At the request of relatively private interests Vault [??] and its counterparts were determined to be built somewhere in the Gulf and Southeast Commonwealths.

This was a boon to preliminary construction as the sites were selected from existing granite, quartz, and marble quarries near the Appalachian mountains – eliminating much of the excavation required to create adequate space for a subterranean shelter. Vault 104 was one of the first of its kind, but was eventually followed by others as the project was expanded.

"Exactly how much gold is there? That's classified. Let's just say ... all of it."
–– Cole 'Slick' CarverBottlecaps, Bullion, & Bargaining

     Although there is largely insufficient means to utilize scavenged noble metals in chemistry, technological reproductions, as well as no centralized authoritative body to back its value; there is still a widely general consensus among those who share knowledge of its pre-war history, allure as a status symbol, use in jewelry, electronic components, its naturally attractive luster and so on which has led to its commoditization as a desirable currency.

     The Blue Ridge Caravan Company is known to crudely mint its own stock of bullion from handmade bottlecap molds whenever possible. Additionally, the Nuka Cola Corporation did in fact produce bottlecaps of gold, silver, and copper alloys as a measure of esteem to appeal to consumers prior to the peak of the resource wars, notwithstanding.

     Another example of this proliferation was the use of a platinum cap which was implemented into the bottling of the rare Nuka Cola Quantum to temper the suspiciously corrosive elements within these addictive sodas. The consistency and purity of these alloys is intensely debated, speculative at best, and rightfully so. Nevertheless it has resisted scrutiny as a reliable asset for bargaining.

▸ ...
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▸ RULES & APPLY

For the most part, I really don't care. You're an adult, you can handle yourself. The only request I make personally is that you communicate effectively.

And remember, taxation is theft.
▸ GUILD RULES

As it should be understood, this site has a skeleton of guidelines you'll be expected to follow while participating in this thread. It's simple, it's easy, it's breezy, so be cool my guy. We got this.
▸ POSTS & PACING

You can be as involved as much as you care to be both in the Roleplay and out of it. Use your words thoughtfully and we'll have some fun. If you are managing a busy schedule, it's okay, everybody needs breaks and time to formulate creative ideas for our story posts that we can be passionate about.

Generally, participants will be expected to post at least once every several days whenever their turn lands. During acts exploring the main plot, tasteful progress summaries and update posts will be made every two weeks or sooner.
▸ WORLD OF FALLOUT

This ain't Kansas, buddy.

The story of a true-to-form Fallout and its peripheral themes consists of relatively dark places. Good people are going to get hurt, they're going to be brutalized, they're going to be abused, they're going to inevitably die. The world as it once was no longer exists; in more places than not, law and order are a trivial matter of debate settled by gunfire and blunt instrument. Or worse. Survival is a question that weighs on the mind day by day.

That being said, wherever there is chaos, there remains the inextinguishable light that wills to create order against it. You can find friends in odd places as much as you can find the worst day of your life. Perhaps even more, the world is your oyster, it is the clay of life that you may seek to mold for the better. It is up to you to discover your unique path.

In this dated stretch of a nightmare apocalypse, the fruits of civilization come to bear. As long as you don't stray too far from the more common elements of this popularized story of struggle, you'll be set to thoroughly enjoy its virtues.
▸ CHARACTER EMPHASIS

Since this is a pretty wild and wacky universe, there will be some pretty wild and wacky people, yeah? There is a limit to this as characters lacking in realistic strengths and weaknesses will not be as cool. You can play a whole host of serious or goofy characters, but you'll be encouraged to fill those shoes with an ample side of flaws to support their more fantastic qualities.

As for the concept of attempting a unique species or subrace; a mutant, android, or the like. I will be cautious of these applications. The more complex the archetype or diversity of power, the harder it'll be to convince. Ghouls as well as robots such as handies, protectrons, & eyebots are very much welcome!
▸ ACTION & IMPACT

This should go without saying, but the acceptable way to approach a post that heavily involves actions that significantly effect the world should be posed with an open ended form of an 'attempt'.

This rule can be regarded as lightweight in practice, as you may often create your own resolutions through scenes less technical or consequential. Low-level enemies for example may be dispatched at your own discretion. However, when it comes to encounters narratively driven by a GM, it will be considered inappropriate to skip through an impactful 'attempt' to the immediate successive result.

It should be anticipated that there will be a fair amount of basic rolls involved that will help progress through events where actions may be decided effective or ineffective. For the most part, though, you are allowed to moderate yourself within a reasonable, realistic frame of outcomes. If you have any questions, just ask!

▸ APPLICATION FORMAT

Okay, interested in making a character? Simply click here and use the "Raw" link at the top right of the post to get the paste for the code.

Character Profile ... in progress.

DEAN CARTER DUNKELLER

▸ Basic Information

NAME: Dean "Woody" Carter Dunkeller
AGE: 26
GENDER: Male
RACE: Human
SUB-RACE: Pre-War
ORIGIN: Atlanta
ALLEGIANCE: N/A
▸ Appearance

Woody's complexion is a familiar one; weathered and crinkled from age, exposure to the elements, and a dozen years of chain-smoking. He was once easy on the eyes but nowadays there isn't very much special to him.

...
▸ Personality

TYPE: INTJ
ALIGNMENT: Chaotic-Neutral
– (Unbridledheavily leaningDarwinian)

SPECTATOR'S REACTION:
PLACEHOLDER

S (4) P (5) E (3) C (7) I (6) A (4) L (8)

▸ Characteristics

TRAITS:
Chem Reliant – You’ve taken Chems all your life. You manage to make them last twice as long, but you’re addicted as hell. You’re a far better soldier on drugs than not.

SKILLS:
Combat Skill:
Small Guns – The use, care and general knowledge of small firearms. Pistols, SMGs and rifles.

Passive Skill:
Speech – The ability to communicate in a practical and efficient manner. The skill of convincing others that your position is correct. The ability to lie and not get caught.

PERKS:
N/A

STRENGTHS:
• Day Tripper: PLACEHOLDER
• Dealer is Everyone's Friend: PLACEHOLDER
• Hand of God: There is an unmistakable amount of unfounded luck that manages to find its way into Carter's company. Things just seem to go in his favor more than they really ought to. Coincidentally, Carter believes that he can foresee fate on a really good high, but there's a lot of questionable 'abilities' Woody claims to have when he's high.

WEAKNESSES:
• Wonderland Gives, Wonderland Takes: When you drink from the fountain of eternity, it too will drink from you. Carter may try to hide or minimize the consequences of his addictions, but ultimately there is no undoing the damage a decade's worth of drug abuse has done. His lights are not always on anymore.
• Two Hearts & Lead Lungs: PLACEHOLDER
• Straw Man: Carter is about as strong as a corn stalk. His worn out bomber makes Carter's build appear deceptively average despite his relative frailty. There is a struggle with pickle jars.

▸ Equipment

WEAPONS:
9mm Pistol – While not too powerful, it is a subtle and reliable firearm that Carter has grown to appreciate. It doesn't put 'em down as clean and effective as a rifle, but it will usually do the job.
Bowie Knife – Carter wouldn't be caught dead anywhere without his bowie. A knife is a vital tool of survival, and so he uses the simple fixed blade most ceremoniously; a good knife can make the difference between life and death out in the glades.
ARMOR:
Leather Harness – The harness isn't of any technical design or function and in fact offers no sort of protection against damage; instead, it carries a holster for Carter's pistol to be somewhat concealed beneath his jacket.

CHEMICALS:
• 1x Stimpak (one syringe)
• 2x Jet (two inhalers)
• 3x Day Tripper (three blotters)
• 1x Rad-X (one pill)

MISCELLANEOUS:
Canteen – Carter will only stomach one drink. Water. And he drinks a lot of it. He keeps a banged up aluminum canteen in a sleeve on his belt behind his right hip.
Leather Belt – A thick leather belt with a simple tin buckle; it has two snug clips for his canteen pouch, and a sheath for his bowie on the opposite flank. Carter's harness fastens to his belt to complete the article.
Lucky Boots – They're falling apart but damn did they once look good. Some kind of gnarly leather made from young radigator hide and stained a rich bourbon luster. Now though the leather is cracked, and damaged from muck and abuse. Pretty sure that's a blood stain on the heel.
Spectacles – They once served someone with severely poor vision, but now these spectacles of cheap brass wire frame are Carter's. One of the lenses happens to be missing, allowing a naked eye to peer through whilst the other is magnified to a comical degree. He can't even see out of the lens that loosely remains.
▸ Background

PLACEHOLDER
Dixie Fiend Member

elusive eco-terrorist

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