Immaculate
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Icerust
- Thread starter Ahigin
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Icerust - Update 0
Long Winter Y100.M1: Icerust Awakens
Wise people say that during the hundred years of the Long Winter, the Earth has almost turned into a snowball. Many lives have perished at that time of trial, and many are yet to perish. But the cloud cover is growing thinner, and the sun rays are starting to reach the frozen wasteland of Icerust more and more. With it, the civilization of Icerust is coming out of its slumber. What does it promise to the lucky survivors? Most likely, more greed and violence. So be it.
Order Implacable
Order Implacable is a following of a random assortment of refugees and desperates who have coalesced around a self-styled (and frankly insane) knight named Sir (or Dame?) Ducati driven by their personal legend. No one actually knows what Ducati looks like, as they go about covered head to toe in homemade platemail (as in, made out of ceramic plates), but everyone have heard of their legends. They say they have slaughtered a thousand Highwaymen at once with a swing of a sword of light. They say Sir Ducati have single-handedly rescued a damsel (or a man, story is rather confusing) in distress from being infested by a car polyp. They say they have walked through an aurora wall and lived to tell the tale. Whatever the case, Sir Ducati finds themself as a relatively reclusive leader of a cult that have coalesced around their supposed exploits.
The Order’s capital is Hammertown, founded in a place known as Hammerhill: populated remains of a student campus, surrounded by materiel-rich urban ruins, with a few intact gas station reservoirs nearby.
Grand Master’s challenge: The Poor Fellows of Hammertown
Many desperate fellows of the wasteland are waiting to be saved. Some of them may find their way to the gates of Hammertown. It’s easy to admit in masterful handymen and sophisticated gents. But what shall we do if a rabble of have-nots shows up and asks for food and shelter behind our barricades? With some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
The Wobblies
The Industrial Workers of the World were an international labour union in the World of Autumn. In the World of Autumn they were often referred to and referred to themselves as the Wobblies, a name of often debated origin and etymology. During the Long Winter, they have been known almost exclusively by this moniker.
When the World of Autumn ceased to be, a group of IWW members became the nucleus of a settlement in Ravenswood, Chicago (which had the good fortune of becoming a relatively fertile and hospitable area among the windswept labyrinth of the Windy City). The Wobblies have established a revolutionary anti-capitalist society, although due to the chaos of the Long Winter the implementation of this society is different to how those in the World of Autumn would have imagined it.
The Wobblies follow the old principle "from each according to their ability, to each according to their work.” Or, more accurately, "those who work, eat.” Like in most other settlements the social dynamic has established itself. Proles do basic and menial labour and are therefore entitled to the fewest luxuries and basic rations. Jacks, those with specialised skills (of which there are many due to the Wobblies' industrial background), are afforded more luxuries and better rations. And Clouts, a title only afforded to a select group of venerable elders, the extremely wise and the fiercest combatants, are entitled to the greatest luxuries and the finest foods. This is considered fair due to the quality of the work that each group provides - they are all workers, but some provide more value than others. The disparity is seen as a necessary compromise due to the extreme conditions of the Long Winter and a necessary phase of Socialism to the long and bleak road to Communism.
The Wobblies practice democracy and elect leaders and representatives. The Head of "State" of the Wobblies is known as the Grand Foreman. The current Foreman Chandra Gardener was formerly in charge of agriculture, she is an expert agriculturalist who oversaw many a bountiful harvest. She is also a fierce and stubborn fighter, routing a raid by Highwayman scabs. According to legend, she refused to die or retreat even when her vehicle had been destroyed, taking on enemy vehicles armed with nothing but a machete. Due to her actions she became overwhelmingly popular and won recent Foreman elections, on a platform of expansion. She has pledged to expand the Ravenswood Commune, to find and save the lost workers of the wastes and to drag the reactionary highwaymen out of their camps and subject them to the People's Justice.
The Wobblies’ capital is Ravenswood Commune, founded in a place known as Raven’s Wood: populated grid of urban ruins of red brick, intersected by elevated railroads and surrounded by several parks and cemeteries overgrown with spruce.
Grand Foreman’s challenge: Plight of the proletariat
The Long Winter hasn’t been gentle on anyone, but the plight of the proletariat is the harshest nowadays. What shall we do when the huddled masses appear on our Commune’s doorstep? With some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
Mid-Apocalypse Chaos Carnival
The Chaos Carnival is democratic community built around the idea of bringing some fun and color to the bleak wasteland. Formed by the leader of a destroyed circus, Shelby Adams, it started life as a nomadic entertainment group before booting out a tyrannical despot from a small fishing town and taking over the place. The Carnival started out as a peace loving community, but overtime the cruelty of the wasteland warped it into a more sadistic, but still fun-loving community.
It’s leader, Vanessa became the most recent ringmaster of the Shelby Carnarium with her sharp tongue and quick wit. Her crafty nature earned the respect of her fellow performers, leading to her election after the previous ringmaster retired.
The Chaos Carnival’s capital is Shelby Carnarium, founded in a place known as Carnival Ground: a carnival camp built in an empty snow plain that once was the Conkling Heritage Park, overlooking the frozen Mackinac Strait.
Ringmaster’s challenge: Carnival visitors
After the carnival came to town, the townsfolk started coming to the carnival. And most of these gawkers want to be fed before they get entertained. How should we treat the poor tramps that come to beg for admission to Shelby Carnarium? With some labor investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. With some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
Monolith of Sarkic
The Sarkic Monolith is a religious blood-cult formed around the belief that the milky way galaxy has been blessed with the arrival of a benevolent and loving otherworldly god known as Yaldabaoth, the Devourer. Their faith revolves around the mystical Oz, anomalies and the artifacts they hope to conjure - which the Sarkites believe to be the result of their deity's influence directly seeping into our reality. Mutation and physical change brought on by the Oz is often viewed with reverence and Sarkic shrines often hold offerings of swollen lymph nodes and tumorous growths. The cult treats the Oz as consecration, a means to "cull the weak" and purify the masses, and thus actively seek to ensure its protection, spread - and to harvest its mystical "gifts". Their end-goal is theophagy, devouring the flesh of their god, as they believe that by doing so they will ascend to godhood themselves and live eternally in Yaldabaoth's promised paradise.
The Cult’s prophet, Grant Karcist Maxwell was a scavenger who rose to prominence after seeking shelter within a series of underground tunnels beneath Sault Ste. Marie during an emission blowout. Unluckily, he had unwittingly stumbled into direct view of a mindbender and become fully exposed to its effects. Experiencing vivid hallucinations and visions of a grotesque and maddening nature, he wandered about in the dark in desperation until coming across a curious humming rock of crimson - composed of flesh, bone and metal fused together. The bloody sphere calmed and focused his visions as it spoke to him, revealing to Maxwell the "truth" about the Oz, about the universe, and about his skin, sinew and blood. Enlightened by these new truths and guided by the voice of a true god, Maxwell returned to his settlement a new man and formed the Sarkic Monolith, preaching his truths and exposing his followers to the whispers of the cult's holy idol.
The capital of the Cult of Sarkic is the Cathedral, founded in a place known as Still Mill: a populated husk of a steel mill located amidst the snow-burried outskirts of Sault Ste. Marie ruins.
Grand Kacist’s challenge: Heathens at our doorstep
After learning the more intimate workings of our cult, the majority of local survivors chose, for some reason, to stay far, far away from the Cathedral. Yet, the Long Winter keeps pushing desperate refugees of distant famines right toward our doorstep. Few of them are truly receptive of our faith once we teach them, but many of these hypocrites are willing to put up with our rituals, as long as they’re fed and sheltered. With some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
The Motors Parliament
There is a sight that the bandits of the ice-roads have come to fear, and the free-settlements hope to see in the mornings of this broken world, and that is the sight of the bewigged MPs of the Parliamentary Garage roaring down the ice-roads in their red and white gun-rigs. When the world shattered, the ancestors of the MPs came together, and scavenged together an ideal from the broken shards of the past.
The Motor Parliament’s leader is an enigmatic character known as the Prime Motor (PM). Before she was PM, she was just an MP, but with every victory, ever broken bandit camp, every saved settlement, the P moved to the left, and the M moved to the right, until she was sworn in with great hat upon her wig, and scepter in her hand.
The MPs’ capital is The Parliamentary Garage, founded in a place known as The Garage: a populated underground parking lot and maintenance facilities under the ruins of the Parliament building.
PM’s challenge: Garage visitors
We’re gaining quite a reputation for ambushing the Highwaymen’s columns, and the destitute survivors of no particular skill or knowledge are starting to flock to our (still empty) garage. Should we extend our franchise to them, or should we keep the plank high for joining the Parliament? With some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
Ogayori Clan
Ogayori Clan were once a group of Japanese survivors that made it through the mysterious cataclysm. They were disorganized, depressed, hungry, and low on resolve. These survivors reverted back to their ancestral roots as a mean to survive the Long Winter. Gone were the days of modern governing in favor of feudal lords’ ruling. Out of smaller clans populating a lone isle just off the coast of Detroit, one clan stood out: the Ogayori. The Ogayori Clan was the biggest in its resources and manpower. It wrestled control of the whole Isle through force and cunning tactics to become the island’s hegemon.
Its leader is Ogayori Denji, the man that unified all other clans under his banner. He is known among many as a true warrior of unmatched prowess and amazing skills in leading men in times of battle. Outside of combat, he’s a calm but passionate person who cares for his people.
The Clan’ capital is Ryūgū-jō, founded in a place known as Utsukushī Shima: a fishing town that grew around a rare polynya of open water, with a Shintoist shrine put together out of rusty rabble inside of the historical Detroit Yacht Club mansion on Belle Isle.
Clan Head’s challenge: Baka gaijin
A strip of permanent ice connects the Utsukushī island to the mainland Detroit, allowing some foolish foreigners to wander into our fief, asking to be admitted into the fishing community we rule over. These uneducated strangers are alien to our ways and only a few even recognize our language, so we have to speak to them in a dialect of the old local language. With some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
Momma's Boyz
Momma’s Boyz is a personality cult centered around a 'grandmother' figure and her 'grandchildren.'
Its matriarch is an ice-age survivor, Grandma Bubble Gum Ultraviolet. She’s a longtime veteran in her sixties, a very rare thing indeed in the wastelands. Bubble gum is small, barely 5'1" and has bright purple hair she doesn't bother to comb very often. She smiles easily and constantly and doesn't appear to even feel or understand anxiety, worry or fear. She is an absolute hedonist and will not deny herself anything she likes, be it drugs, men, women, or violence. She likes fire. A lot. She considers the members of her 'tribe' her grandchildren and loves them all in an abusive, manipulative, sociopathic, but ultimately very real way.
Momma’s Boyz’ capital is The Crib, founded in a place known as Ruins of Five Seasons: a community formed inside the sprawling ramshackle of the Czech And Slovak Heritage Museum, surrounded by a deserted residential area.
The site appears to be infested by an Oz anomaly known as the Coral of Five Seasons: a strange, polyp-like outgrowth that populates the famous Tree Of Five Seasons statue in the desolated Cedar Rapids downtown. Every few weeks, it breathes out a multicolored cloud of parasitic spores that grow on top of any metal object, forming coral reef-like, frail structures, eroding the metal into rust in the process. The spores are toxic for breathing, but were found to be a great protective factor against raiders and Highwaymen.
Grandma’s challenge: Lost grandkids
The wasteland is full of friends, and friends are family. Most of these lost babies are almost utterly useless: they have only their rude labor to offer, they have nothing to feed themselves, and they drag their shoes through the shivering frost, searching for a mother goose to take them under their wing. Some of them seek that grandmotherly love so much that they wander into the pentacolored fog of the Ruins of Five Seasons, where they discover The Crib. They deserve our love, of course, but should our love be tough or gentle? With some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
The Republic of Sinclair
The Republic started as a slave revolt that overthrew and fled their masters, wandered in the wastes for five years, and finally settled in Old Cleveland, led by their liberator leader, Captain-Defender Eugenia St. Clair, and her husband, Offset Jaw.
The Captain-Defender has been so-called since the founding of the Republic; before that, she was just St. Clair. Like her fellows, she was a slave who toiled for a cruel and evil king, one who had ruled the Detroit flats for many years. But though the king was great and terrible and ruled many through fear, in the twilight of his life his empire began to fall apart, and rivals chased his men across the flats. Eugenia and her fellow slaves continued to toil, with ever-increasing obligations placed on them by their desperate exploiters. Though there had been many slave revolts over the years, they always ended bloodily. But Eugenia and her fellows continued to dream of freedom, and under her organization they rose up and killed the king and many of his lieutenants. However, they were forced to flee, and so they did - a desperate excursion into the cold and empty flats.
There was no plan. The hero who had finally broken their shackles did not know any better than the rest of them where to go. Wandering like this, always on the run from beasts, anomalies and, worst of all, other humans, many died on this aimless exodus. After five years of being chased, they finally arrived in the ruins of east Old Cleveland, where an old church stood that had survived the ages, and the name ST. CLAIR stood as a peculiar omen, being also the name of their leader. Here, they settled, not expecting to stay forever but, in the end, doing just that.
Eugenia continues to lead them, now as the elected Captain-Defender of their small republic. She who freed slaves is now responsible for their lives in this desperate wasteland. She has already failed many of them.
The Republic’s capital is Sinclair, founded in a place known as St. Clair: a drag surrounding an old church of St. Clair, located inside the burned-down ramshackle of Old Cleveland's AsiaTown.
Captain-Defender’s challenge: Arriving freedmen
Our small group of rebellious slaves is not the only company of freedom-loving survivors wandering the wasteland. Lacking many skills and knowledge, these oppressed souls also long for food and shelter and, yes, some dignity. Yet, the resources of our young republic are scarce, and its unclear what we should do with the new arrivals. With some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
Greylaw
Surviving police forces tried to coordinate response at the beginning of the Long Winter, degenerated into de facto marauders known as "Bluelaw" due to use of blue Michigan police vehicles and (increasingly perfunctory) traditions, terminology, and culture of lawmen. Years of marauding wore down their vehicle fleet and so Bluelaw forcefully seized a burgeoning settlement and former Greyhound bus depot, Ypsilanti, converting their stock of buses into a new war fleet and garnering the new name, Greylaw. It’s been many years since the war buses were the mainstay of the faction, and the Hounds of Greylaw (as they call themselves) are today a violent gang of kleptocrats and murderers held together by patriotic deference to the gang's arbitrary codes, and also plush.
The gang’s leader (Alfa of the Alfas in their terminology, or shortly Alfa-Alfa) is an unlikely man known as Conan the Snowflake. Conan was not meant for this cruel world. His father chose a name to evoke the legendary strongman of yore, but he was a sickly child. He was the first born son of the Alfa of Alfas, but while other boys brawled, Conan snuck out to abandoned buildings to read old books. Conan and his few friends held only contempt for Greylaw's hyper-masculine hierarchy - the debauchery, the barbarism, the inefficiency! Meanwhile in the eyes of that hyper-masculine hierarchy, Conan was an embarrassment. But one's weakness can be transformed into a strength, as Conan once interpreted Nietzsche to have written. Nobody thought Conan the Snowflake would have a chance in hell of succeeding his father as Alfa-Alfa, and so nobody cared what Conan knew - and Conan listened to the swirling vortex of plots to kill this or that clout and thus make themselves Alfa-Alfa. So when his father died, and the plots commenced, Conan knew exactly on whose side to intercede. For one bloody week, the Hounds were not seen anywhere on the highways, but when the fighting ended, it was Conan who had saved the lives of those clouts remaining, and guaranteed the death of those that perished. Many don't trust or like Conan, but the higher ups of the gang (the Alfas), whether out of genuine gratitude from his actions, out of respect for his father, or with a sense of "we'll see how long he lasts" - they now call him the Alfa of Alfas.
The gang’s capital is Thunderbolt, founded in a place known as Greyhound Den: a former Greyhound bus depot, now forming a basis of a settlement, surrounded by snow-covered flatlands and one-story ruins which have been stripped of all valuables by the Greylaw marauders over several decades.
Alfa-Alfa’s challenge: Outlaws and losers
Many desperate losers live outside of the reach of the Law. In fact, some of these sods end up wandering to the menacing outskirts of Thunderbolt, asking to let them in. Dependent on us as they are, they have nothing to offer but their labor in exchange for food and shelter. And as a capable administrator, Alfa-Alfa knows full well just how desolated the surroundings of Grayhound Den have become after decades of mindless marauding, presenting us with a resource shortage. So, what should we do with the visiting nobodies? With some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
The Addlebrained Alcoholics
Formed outside the ruins of Cleveland, the Addlebrained Alcoholics initially only grew their own food to survive. A growing culture around rebuilt breweries began, and the town cherished their alcohol and eventually their drugs, for it was all they had. However, when they began to export their excess narcotics through trade, they found more than a few willing customers who would do anything for a good drink. After some soul-searching (and skull-smashing), the survivors began to focus on exporting as much beer, cider, weed and whatever’s in-between throughout the former Great Lakes.
The gang’s leader is Evie Jiang, a masterful brewer and a shrewed businesswomen who rose to prominence as the most successful bootlegger in Old Cleveland.
The gang’s capital is Rotten Apple, founded in a place known as Alcoland: a reconstructed brickwork brewery, surrounded by a settlement that grew amid the abandoned residential suburb of Old Cleveland along the lakeshore, with a permafrost soil and few valuable material remaining, except some abandoned fuel cisterns from a nearby trainwreck.
Top Brewer’s challenge: Thirsty throats
There’s little of value in and around Alcoland, if you don’t count the divine elixirs that we brew out of pretty much anything. This draws some desperate stragglers to the gates of Rotten Apple. They have nothing to offer but their work, and it’s unlikely that we’d waste any precious liquor on them, but the food they’d consume may as well go into the booze production. Shortly speaking, our boys and gals are unsure as to what to do with the new arrivals. With some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
Map
GM's notes:
@Lord_Herobrine - Unfortunately, without a faction background I can't introduce you to this update.
Everyone - Feel free to post your orders in the thread for now. But PM works as well.
Long Winter Y100.M1: Icerust Awakens
Wise people say that during the hundred years of the Long Winter, the Earth has almost turned into a snowball. Many lives have perished at that time of trial, and many are yet to perish. But the cloud cover is growing thinner, and the sun rays are starting to reach the frozen wasteland of Icerust more and more. With it, the civilization of Icerust is coming out of its slumber. What does it promise to the lucky survivors? Most likely, more greed and violence. So be it.
Order Implacable
Order Implacable is a following of a random assortment of refugees and desperates who have coalesced around a self-styled (and frankly insane) knight named Sir (or Dame?) Ducati driven by their personal legend. No one actually knows what Ducati looks like, as they go about covered head to toe in homemade platemail (as in, made out of ceramic plates), but everyone have heard of their legends. They say they have slaughtered a thousand Highwaymen at once with a swing of a sword of light. They say Sir Ducati have single-handedly rescued a damsel (or a man, story is rather confusing) in distress from being infested by a car polyp. They say they have walked through an aurora wall and lived to tell the tale. Whatever the case, Sir Ducati finds themself as a relatively reclusive leader of a cult that have coalesced around their supposed exploits.
The Order’s capital is Hammertown, founded in a place known as Hammerhill: populated remains of a student campus, surrounded by materiel-rich urban ruins, with a few intact gas station reservoirs nearby.
Grand Master’s challenge: The Poor Fellows of Hammertown
Many desperate fellows of the wasteland are waiting to be saved. Some of them may find their way to the gates of Hammertown. It’s easy to admit in masterful handymen and sophisticated gents. But what shall we do if a rabble of have-nots shows up and asks for food and shelter behind our barricades? With some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
The Wobblies
The Industrial Workers of the World were an international labour union in the World of Autumn. In the World of Autumn they were often referred to and referred to themselves as the Wobblies, a name of often debated origin and etymology. During the Long Winter, they have been known almost exclusively by this moniker.
When the World of Autumn ceased to be, a group of IWW members became the nucleus of a settlement in Ravenswood, Chicago (which had the good fortune of becoming a relatively fertile and hospitable area among the windswept labyrinth of the Windy City). The Wobblies have established a revolutionary anti-capitalist society, although due to the chaos of the Long Winter the implementation of this society is different to how those in the World of Autumn would have imagined it.
The Wobblies follow the old principle "from each according to their ability, to each according to their work.” Or, more accurately, "those who work, eat.” Like in most other settlements the social dynamic has established itself. Proles do basic and menial labour and are therefore entitled to the fewest luxuries and basic rations. Jacks, those with specialised skills (of which there are many due to the Wobblies' industrial background), are afforded more luxuries and better rations. And Clouts, a title only afforded to a select group of venerable elders, the extremely wise and the fiercest combatants, are entitled to the greatest luxuries and the finest foods. This is considered fair due to the quality of the work that each group provides - they are all workers, but some provide more value than others. The disparity is seen as a necessary compromise due to the extreme conditions of the Long Winter and a necessary phase of Socialism to the long and bleak road to Communism.
The Wobblies practice democracy and elect leaders and representatives. The Head of "State" of the Wobblies is known as the Grand Foreman. The current Foreman Chandra Gardener was formerly in charge of agriculture, she is an expert agriculturalist who oversaw many a bountiful harvest. She is also a fierce and stubborn fighter, routing a raid by Highwayman scabs. According to legend, she refused to die or retreat even when her vehicle had been destroyed, taking on enemy vehicles armed with nothing but a machete. Due to her actions she became overwhelmingly popular and won recent Foreman elections, on a platform of expansion. She has pledged to expand the Ravenswood Commune, to find and save the lost workers of the wastes and to drag the reactionary highwaymen out of their camps and subject them to the People's Justice.
The Wobblies’ capital is Ravenswood Commune, founded in a place known as Raven’s Wood: populated grid of urban ruins of red brick, intersected by elevated railroads and surrounded by several parks and cemeteries overgrown with spruce.
Grand Foreman’s challenge: Plight of the proletariat
The Long Winter hasn’t been gentle on anyone, but the plight of the proletariat is the harshest nowadays. What shall we do when the huddled masses appear on our Commune’s doorstep? With some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
Mid-Apocalypse Chaos Carnival
The Chaos Carnival is democratic community built around the idea of bringing some fun and color to the bleak wasteland. Formed by the leader of a destroyed circus, Shelby Adams, it started life as a nomadic entertainment group before booting out a tyrannical despot from a small fishing town and taking over the place. The Carnival started out as a peace loving community, but overtime the cruelty of the wasteland warped it into a more sadistic, but still fun-loving community.
It’s leader, Vanessa became the most recent ringmaster of the Shelby Carnarium with her sharp tongue and quick wit. Her crafty nature earned the respect of her fellow performers, leading to her election after the previous ringmaster retired.
The Chaos Carnival’s capital is Shelby Carnarium, founded in a place known as Carnival Ground: a carnival camp built in an empty snow plain that once was the Conkling Heritage Park, overlooking the frozen Mackinac Strait.
Ringmaster’s challenge: Carnival visitors
After the carnival came to town, the townsfolk started coming to the carnival. And most of these gawkers want to be fed before they get entertained. How should we treat the poor tramps that come to beg for admission to Shelby Carnarium? With some labor investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. With some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
Monolith of Sarkic
The Sarkic Monolith is a religious blood-cult formed around the belief that the milky way galaxy has been blessed with the arrival of a benevolent and loving otherworldly god known as Yaldabaoth, the Devourer. Their faith revolves around the mystical Oz, anomalies and the artifacts they hope to conjure - which the Sarkites believe to be the result of their deity's influence directly seeping into our reality. Mutation and physical change brought on by the Oz is often viewed with reverence and Sarkic shrines often hold offerings of swollen lymph nodes and tumorous growths. The cult treats the Oz as consecration, a means to "cull the weak" and purify the masses, and thus actively seek to ensure its protection, spread - and to harvest its mystical "gifts". Their end-goal is theophagy, devouring the flesh of their god, as they believe that by doing so they will ascend to godhood themselves and live eternally in Yaldabaoth's promised paradise.
The Cult’s prophet, Grant Karcist Maxwell was a scavenger who rose to prominence after seeking shelter within a series of underground tunnels beneath Sault Ste. Marie during an emission blowout. Unluckily, he had unwittingly stumbled into direct view of a mindbender and become fully exposed to its effects. Experiencing vivid hallucinations and visions of a grotesque and maddening nature, he wandered about in the dark in desperation until coming across a curious humming rock of crimson - composed of flesh, bone and metal fused together. The bloody sphere calmed and focused his visions as it spoke to him, revealing to Maxwell the "truth" about the Oz, about the universe, and about his skin, sinew and blood. Enlightened by these new truths and guided by the voice of a true god, Maxwell returned to his settlement a new man and formed the Sarkic Monolith, preaching his truths and exposing his followers to the whispers of the cult's holy idol.
The capital of the Cult of Sarkic is the Cathedral, founded in a place known as Still Mill: a populated husk of a steel mill located amidst the snow-burried outskirts of Sault Ste. Marie ruins.
Grand Kacist’s challenge: Heathens at our doorstep
After learning the more intimate workings of our cult, the majority of local survivors chose, for some reason, to stay far, far away from the Cathedral. Yet, the Long Winter keeps pushing desperate refugees of distant famines right toward our doorstep. Few of them are truly receptive of our faith once we teach them, but many of these hypocrites are willing to put up with our rituals, as long as they’re fed and sheltered. With some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
The Motors Parliament
There is a sight that the bandits of the ice-roads have come to fear, and the free-settlements hope to see in the mornings of this broken world, and that is the sight of the bewigged MPs of the Parliamentary Garage roaring down the ice-roads in their red and white gun-rigs. When the world shattered, the ancestors of the MPs came together, and scavenged together an ideal from the broken shards of the past.
The Motor Parliament’s leader is an enigmatic character known as the Prime Motor (PM). Before she was PM, she was just an MP, but with every victory, ever broken bandit camp, every saved settlement, the P moved to the left, and the M moved to the right, until she was sworn in with great hat upon her wig, and scepter in her hand.
The MPs’ capital is The Parliamentary Garage, founded in a place known as The Garage: a populated underground parking lot and maintenance facilities under the ruins of the Parliament building.
PM’s challenge: Garage visitors
We’re gaining quite a reputation for ambushing the Highwaymen’s columns, and the destitute survivors of no particular skill or knowledge are starting to flock to our (still empty) garage. Should we extend our franchise to them, or should we keep the plank high for joining the Parliament? With some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
Ogayori Clan
Ogayori Clan were once a group of Japanese survivors that made it through the mysterious cataclysm. They were disorganized, depressed, hungry, and low on resolve. These survivors reverted back to their ancestral roots as a mean to survive the Long Winter. Gone were the days of modern governing in favor of feudal lords’ ruling. Out of smaller clans populating a lone isle just off the coast of Detroit, one clan stood out: the Ogayori. The Ogayori Clan was the biggest in its resources and manpower. It wrestled control of the whole Isle through force and cunning tactics to become the island’s hegemon.
Its leader is Ogayori Denji, the man that unified all other clans under his banner. He is known among many as a true warrior of unmatched prowess and amazing skills in leading men in times of battle. Outside of combat, he’s a calm but passionate person who cares for his people.
The Clan’ capital is Ryūgū-jō, founded in a place known as Utsukushī Shima: a fishing town that grew around a rare polynya of open water, with a Shintoist shrine put together out of rusty rabble inside of the historical Detroit Yacht Club mansion on Belle Isle.
Clan Head’s challenge: Baka gaijin
A strip of permanent ice connects the Utsukushī island to the mainland Detroit, allowing some foolish foreigners to wander into our fief, asking to be admitted into the fishing community we rule over. These uneducated strangers are alien to our ways and only a few even recognize our language, so we have to speak to them in a dialect of the old local language. With some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
Momma's Boyz
Momma’s Boyz is a personality cult centered around a 'grandmother' figure and her 'grandchildren.'
Its matriarch is an ice-age survivor, Grandma Bubble Gum Ultraviolet. She’s a longtime veteran in her sixties, a very rare thing indeed in the wastelands. Bubble gum is small, barely 5'1" and has bright purple hair she doesn't bother to comb very often. She smiles easily and constantly and doesn't appear to even feel or understand anxiety, worry or fear. She is an absolute hedonist and will not deny herself anything she likes, be it drugs, men, women, or violence. She likes fire. A lot. She considers the members of her 'tribe' her grandchildren and loves them all in an abusive, manipulative, sociopathic, but ultimately very real way.
Momma’s Boyz’ capital is The Crib, founded in a place known as Ruins of Five Seasons: a community formed inside the sprawling ramshackle of the Czech And Slovak Heritage Museum, surrounded by a deserted residential area.
The site appears to be infested by an Oz anomaly known as the Coral of Five Seasons: a strange, polyp-like outgrowth that populates the famous Tree Of Five Seasons statue in the desolated Cedar Rapids downtown. Every few weeks, it breathes out a multicolored cloud of parasitic spores that grow on top of any metal object, forming coral reef-like, frail structures, eroding the metal into rust in the process. The spores are toxic for breathing, but were found to be a great protective factor against raiders and Highwaymen.
Grandma’s challenge: Lost grandkids
The wasteland is full of friends, and friends are family. Most of these lost babies are almost utterly useless: they have only their rude labor to offer, they have nothing to feed themselves, and they drag their shoes through the shivering frost, searching for a mother goose to take them under their wing. Some of them seek that grandmotherly love so much that they wander into the pentacolored fog of the Ruins of Five Seasons, where they discover The Crib. They deserve our love, of course, but should our love be tough or gentle? With some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
The Republic of Sinclair
The Republic started as a slave revolt that overthrew and fled their masters, wandered in the wastes for five years, and finally settled in Old Cleveland, led by their liberator leader, Captain-Defender Eugenia St. Clair, and her husband, Offset Jaw.
The Captain-Defender has been so-called since the founding of the Republic; before that, she was just St. Clair. Like her fellows, she was a slave who toiled for a cruel and evil king, one who had ruled the Detroit flats for many years. But though the king was great and terrible and ruled many through fear, in the twilight of his life his empire began to fall apart, and rivals chased his men across the flats. Eugenia and her fellow slaves continued to toil, with ever-increasing obligations placed on them by their desperate exploiters. Though there had been many slave revolts over the years, they always ended bloodily. But Eugenia and her fellows continued to dream of freedom, and under her organization they rose up and killed the king and many of his lieutenants. However, they were forced to flee, and so they did - a desperate excursion into the cold and empty flats.
There was no plan. The hero who had finally broken their shackles did not know any better than the rest of them where to go. Wandering like this, always on the run from beasts, anomalies and, worst of all, other humans, many died on this aimless exodus. After five years of being chased, they finally arrived in the ruins of east Old Cleveland, where an old church stood that had survived the ages, and the name ST. CLAIR stood as a peculiar omen, being also the name of their leader. Here, they settled, not expecting to stay forever but, in the end, doing just that.
Eugenia continues to lead them, now as the elected Captain-Defender of their small republic. She who freed slaves is now responsible for their lives in this desperate wasteland. She has already failed many of them.
The Republic’s capital is Sinclair, founded in a place known as St. Clair: a drag surrounding an old church of St. Clair, located inside the burned-down ramshackle of Old Cleveland's AsiaTown.
Captain-Defender’s challenge: Arriving freedmen
Our small group of rebellious slaves is not the only company of freedom-loving survivors wandering the wasteland. Lacking many skills and knowledge, these oppressed souls also long for food and shelter and, yes, some dignity. Yet, the resources of our young republic are scarce, and its unclear what we should do with the new arrivals. With some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
Greylaw
Surviving police forces tried to coordinate response at the beginning of the Long Winter, degenerated into de facto marauders known as "Bluelaw" due to use of blue Michigan police vehicles and (increasingly perfunctory) traditions, terminology, and culture of lawmen. Years of marauding wore down their vehicle fleet and so Bluelaw forcefully seized a burgeoning settlement and former Greyhound bus depot, Ypsilanti, converting their stock of buses into a new war fleet and garnering the new name, Greylaw. It’s been many years since the war buses were the mainstay of the faction, and the Hounds of Greylaw (as they call themselves) are today a violent gang of kleptocrats and murderers held together by patriotic deference to the gang's arbitrary codes, and also plush.
The gang’s leader (Alfa of the Alfas in their terminology, or shortly Alfa-Alfa) is an unlikely man known as Conan the Snowflake. Conan was not meant for this cruel world. His father chose a name to evoke the legendary strongman of yore, but he was a sickly child. He was the first born son of the Alfa of Alfas, but while other boys brawled, Conan snuck out to abandoned buildings to read old books. Conan and his few friends held only contempt for Greylaw's hyper-masculine hierarchy - the debauchery, the barbarism, the inefficiency! Meanwhile in the eyes of that hyper-masculine hierarchy, Conan was an embarrassment. But one's weakness can be transformed into a strength, as Conan once interpreted Nietzsche to have written. Nobody thought Conan the Snowflake would have a chance in hell of succeeding his father as Alfa-Alfa, and so nobody cared what Conan knew - and Conan listened to the swirling vortex of plots to kill this or that clout and thus make themselves Alfa-Alfa. So when his father died, and the plots commenced, Conan knew exactly on whose side to intercede. For one bloody week, the Hounds were not seen anywhere on the highways, but when the fighting ended, it was Conan who had saved the lives of those clouts remaining, and guaranteed the death of those that perished. Many don't trust or like Conan, but the higher ups of the gang (the Alfas), whether out of genuine gratitude from his actions, out of respect for his father, or with a sense of "we'll see how long he lasts" - they now call him the Alfa of Alfas.
The gang’s capital is Thunderbolt, founded in a place known as Greyhound Den: a former Greyhound bus depot, now forming a basis of a settlement, surrounded by snow-covered flatlands and one-story ruins which have been stripped of all valuables by the Greylaw marauders over several decades.
Alfa-Alfa’s challenge: Outlaws and losers
Many desperate losers live outside of the reach of the Law. In fact, some of these sods end up wandering to the menacing outskirts of Thunderbolt, asking to let them in. Dependent on us as they are, they have nothing to offer but their labor in exchange for food and shelter. And as a capable administrator, Alfa-Alfa knows full well just how desolated the surroundings of Grayhound Den have become after decades of mindless marauding, presenting us with a resource shortage. So, what should we do with the visiting nobodies? With some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
The Addlebrained Alcoholics
Formed outside the ruins of Cleveland, the Addlebrained Alcoholics initially only grew their own food to survive. A growing culture around rebuilt breweries began, and the town cherished their alcohol and eventually their drugs, for it was all they had. However, when they began to export their excess narcotics through trade, they found more than a few willing customers who would do anything for a good drink. After some soul-searching (and skull-smashing), the survivors began to focus on exporting as much beer, cider, weed and whatever’s in-between throughout the former Great Lakes.
The gang’s leader is Evie Jiang, a masterful brewer and a shrewed businesswomen who rose to prominence as the most successful bootlegger in Old Cleveland.
The gang’s capital is Rotten Apple, founded in a place known as Alcoland: a reconstructed brickwork brewery, surrounded by a settlement that grew amid the abandoned residential suburb of Old Cleveland along the lakeshore, with a permafrost soil and few valuable material remaining, except some abandoned fuel cisterns from a nearby trainwreck.
Top Brewer’s challenge: Thirsty throats
There’s little of value in and around Alcoland, if you don’t count the divine elixirs that we brew out of pretty much anything. This draws some desperate stragglers to the gates of Rotten Apple. They have nothing to offer but their work, and it’s unlikely that we’d waste any precious liquor on them, but the food they’d consume may as well go into the booze production. Shortly speaking, our boys and gals are unsure as to what to do with the new arrivals. With some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
Map
Spoiler :
GM's notes:
@Lord_Herobrine - Unfortunately, without a faction background I can't introduce you to this update.
Everyone - Feel free to post your orders in the thread for now. But PM works as well.
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Lord_Herobrine
Back in the Saddle
Just got home from work and updated my faction's history, would've done it earlier but oh well. *shrug*
Seon
Not An Evil Liar
Hammertown/Order Implacable
Worker Promotion Detail
Promote 1 Clout from 1 Jack with 20 grub, 5 plush
Resource Conversion:
Produce 5 Plush from 50 Grub
Building Production
1. Begin Production of Protein Pool with 70 labor, 1 expertise, 10 grub, 100 junk, and 10 guzz
2. Begin production of Scrap Chowder with 90 labor, 1 expertise, 140 junk, 20 guzz.
Foraging:
Assign 100 Proles to harvest for food resources in Hammertown.
Quest Progress
Assign 140 Proles, 8 Expertise, and leadership from Sir Ducati to resolve our refugee by inviting as many of them to stay as possible, so long as they keep the peace and deposit all weapons in secure receptacles by the door.
The new arrival will be welcomed into our community, as every other have been welcomed so far. Sir Ducati and his Jacks will attempt to establish a tradition of 'roof raising' for Hammertown, where it will be the communal duty for everyone to pitch in to do minor repairworks or raise/repair roofs for new houses and buildings to host the new arrivals who would like to call Hammer Hill their home. This communal activity will also be a good place for the legend and myth of Sir Ducati to percolate throughout the ranks.
Worker Promotion Detail
Promote 1 Clout from 1 Jack with 20 grub, 5 plush
Resource Conversion:
Produce 5 Plush from 50 Grub
Building Production
1. Begin Production of Protein Pool with 70 labor, 1 expertise, 10 grub, 100 junk, and 10 guzz
2. Begin production of Scrap Chowder with 90 labor, 1 expertise, 140 junk, 20 guzz.
Foraging:
Assign 100 Proles to harvest for food resources in Hammertown.
Quest Progress
Assign 140 Proles, 8 Expertise, and leadership from Sir Ducati to resolve our refugee by inviting as many of them to stay as possible, so long as they keep the peace and deposit all weapons in secure receptacles by the door.
The new arrival will be welcomed into our community, as every other have been welcomed so far. Sir Ducati and his Jacks will attempt to establish a tradition of 'roof raising' for Hammertown, where it will be the communal duty for everyone to pitch in to do minor repairworks or raise/repair roofs for new houses and buildings to host the new arrivals who would like to call Hammer Hill their home. This communal activity will also be a good place for the legend and myth of Sir Ducati to percolate throughout the ranks.
Zappericus
Euro scumbag
Monolith of Sarkic
The sky is bleeding yet my eyes are dry,
As it is being written,
Their flesh shall be shepered.
Faction Overview
Faction leader: Grand Karcist Maxwell
Site: Still Mill, Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario, Canada | Settlement: The Cathedral
- Structures: 1 Bullet Farm, 1 Car Shoppe
- Proles: 380(+0) | Jacks: 11(+0) | Clouts: 2(+0)
- Grub: 650/2000(-410) | Junk: 240/2000(+0) | Guzz: 280/2000(+0) | Plush: 16/2000(+0)
Turn 1 - Faction Orders
Within
+ Build 1 Scrap Chowder for 90 Labour, 1 Expertise, 140 Junk, 20 Guzz
+ Build 1 Protein Pool for 70 Labour, 1 Expertise, 10 Grub, 100 Junk, 10 Guzz
+ Promote 1 Jack to Clout with 20 Grub, 5 Plush
+ Spend remaining 220 Labour on gathering 1,100 Junk
Total Cost: 380 Labour, 2 Expertise, 30 Grub, 240 Junk 30 Guzz, 5 Plush
Without
N/A
Grand Karcist’s challenge: Heathens at our doorstep
Humbled Moderation
We welcome the faithless flocks with open arms despite their witless sacrilage. We will show them the error of their ways and mold them for the One Who Comes. However, we will do so with some manner of temperance .. for now.
The poor, tired and destitute masses are desperate and easily influenced. As we steer them on the road to holy salvation we will do all in our power to streamline our faith in such manners that our beliefs appeal to even the most backwater of savages and so that our more .. "advanced" rituals and traditions will appear more welcoming, given time. Our faith may seem unorthodox and unnatural,
But we will break their arrogance and liberate their shackled minds.
Blessed be the Great Geometer of Flesh.
+S+ Lure anyone in with temptations of shelter, food, comfort and safety (provided they forfeit their weapons as well as accept our faith, whether they truly mean it or not) before slowly and steadily easing them into Sarkicism. Do everything in your power to invent moderated early-stage traditions that seem less intimidating to potential followers. The Monolith rises. +S+
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Decamper
..!
- Joined
- Jul 28, 2014
- Messages
- 1,159
Faction name: Ol' Bunger's Bastards
Faction motto: What'da say!?
Faction background: The survivors find a Max, the fighters find a Humungus, but the pensioners found Ol' Bunger.
Faction origin: Gang
Faction leader: Ol' Bunger
Leader’s story: Back in the ol' days, people were decent, ya see? They'd put a round between your eyes before takin' yer boots. Ol' Bunger knows what's what, and he'll let you know what's what, soon as he remembers where his boots up and went off to...
Leader’s past: Has-been Hero
Capital name: The Kitchen
Capital location: Kitchener, ON
Capital type: Boomtown
War doctrine: Motorised Screen, Armoured Phalanx, Orderly Evacuation
Highway philosophy: Heavy Duty
Faction motto: What'da say!?
Faction background: The survivors find a Max, the fighters find a Humungus, but the pensioners found Ol' Bunger.
Faction origin: Gang
Faction leader: Ol' Bunger
Leader’s story: Back in the ol' days, people were decent, ya see? They'd put a round between your eyes before takin' yer boots. Ol' Bunger knows what's what, and he'll let you know what's what, soon as he remembers where his boots up and went off to...
Leader’s past: Has-been Hero
Capital name: The Kitchen
Capital location: Kitchener, ON
Capital type: Boomtown
War doctrine: Motorised Screen, Armoured Phalanx, Orderly Evacuation
Highway philosophy: Heavy Duty
Immaculate
unerring
- Joined
- Jan 22, 2003
- Messages
- 7,623
Mommaz Boyz
Building:
Build 2 scrap chowders (280 junk, 40 guzz, 180 labor, 2 expertise)
Resource Gathering:
Spend all remaining labor (170) on gathering grub.
"Gedda work!"
Recruit:
Spend grub (18) on recruiting 6 proles
"Grandmama's get 'er sem new kiddos."
Quest:
Spend all remaining expertise (10) on 'Lost Grandkids'
Some of my older kids (jacks) are tasked with keeping an eye on the newcomers and on one hand make them feel welcome but on the other let them know they are being 'tested' and 'watched'. Our jacks should encourage the lost grandkids to take part of the fairly regular stare-downs, bullying, fistfights and various forms of social jockeying that our children take part in to establish hierarchy and secure the best food/drugs/women/men/shelter. As the jacks establish which are best suited for which roles (lowly proles good only for gathering scraps vs strong warriors vs leaders), we'll incorporate them further and expect them to work for their living.
If newcomers arrive with scrap, we will pay them 3 grub for each scrap. That should motivate some peeps and help us overcome our primary deficiency- once everyone is fed...
Building:
Build 2 scrap chowders (280 junk, 40 guzz, 180 labor, 2 expertise)
Resource Gathering:
Spend all remaining labor (170) on gathering grub.
"Gedda work!"
Recruit:
Spend grub (18) on recruiting 6 proles
"Grandmama's get 'er sem new kiddos."
Quest:
Spend all remaining expertise (10) on 'Lost Grandkids'
Some of my older kids (jacks) are tasked with keeping an eye on the newcomers and on one hand make them feel welcome but on the other let them know they are being 'tested' and 'watched'. Our jacks should encourage the lost grandkids to take part of the fairly regular stare-downs, bullying, fistfights and various forms of social jockeying that our children take part in to establish hierarchy and secure the best food/drugs/women/men/shelter. As the jacks establish which are best suited for which roles (lowly proles good only for gathering scraps vs strong warriors vs leaders), we'll incorporate them further and expect them to work for their living.
If newcomers arrive with scrap, we will pay them 3 grub for each scrap. That should motivate some peeps and help us overcome our primary deficiency- once everyone is fed...
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LordArgon
King
- Joined
- Feb 10, 2019
- Messages
- 850
Mid-Apocalypse Chaos Carnival
Construction:
Build a concession stand to draw in some more viewers and their labor. It shall be be called the Chaos Clown Confections and sell various fried protein food items.
Construction:
- Build two protein pools. (140 labor, 20 grub, 200 junk, 20 guzz)
- 50 labor on junk production
- 10 labor on buzz production
Build a concession stand to draw in some more viewers and their labor. It shall be be called the Chaos Clown Confections and sell various fried protein food items.
Spoiler Clan Image :
Turn 0
Building Order:
Build one protein pool. (70 labor, 10 grub, 100 junk, 10 guzz, 1 Exp)
Production Order:
340 labor will be designated to to fishingman district (Grub)
40 labor will be designated to junkman district (Junk)
Clan Head’s challenge: Baka gaijin
Spoiler Clan Head Challegne :
Answer: These foreigners must learn our ways so that they can better understand our origin and beliefs. It was through our ancestral roots that we were able to adapt to our harsh new environment to survive. Those who come to us must agree to our system of castes and must respect our way or else be rejected from entering our lands.
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FYI for all players:
As was asked in the chat, I'll aim for weekly updates going live each Friday or Saturday (it may slow down when the game grows significantly).
However, if I get all orders early, I'll publish the update as soon as it's ready.
As was asked in the chat, I'll aim for weekly updates going live each Friday or Saturday (it may slow down when the game grows significantly).
However, if I get all orders early, I'll publish the update as soon as it's ready.
While we all count days to Friday (for various reasons), here's an optional writing assignment.
Describe your faction's leader (in any format that goes beyond your faction's intro) and get a little goodie bonus in the stats (a small, but meaningful gift of a resource of my choosing).
Describe your faction's leader (in any format that goes beyond your faction's intro) and get a little goodie bonus in the stats (a small, but meaningful gift of a resource of my choosing).
Butteryicarus
Chieftain
- Joined
- Nov 20, 2017
- Messages
- 42
Construction:
Build one protein pool. (70 labor, 10 grub, 100 junk, 10 guzz)
We need to be more self-sustaining.
Labour:
130 labour on junk production
Quest:
Spend some time taking the roadside refugees as apprentices; some of the more careful and thoughtful ones can be attached to our brewers to learn the process, while less skilled folks can be thought how to plough and till the farmlands.
(Spend all our expertise on apprenticeship.)
Build one protein pool. (70 labor, 10 grub, 100 junk, 10 guzz)
We need to be more self-sustaining.
Labour:
130 labour on junk production
Quest:
Spend some time taking the roadside refugees as apprentices; some of the more careful and thoughtful ones can be attached to our brewers to learn the process, while less skilled folks can be thought how to plough and till the farmlands.
(Spend all our expertise on apprenticeship.)
Crezth
i knew you were a real man of the left
Republic of Sinclair
Orders 1
In St. Clair:
Production:
200 labor in producing Grub: 200 x 2 = +400 Grub.
50 labor in producing Junk: 50 x 3 = +150 Junk.
Building:
70 labor, 10 grub, 1 expertise, 100 junk, and 10 guzz on a Protein Pool.
Challenge: The Refugees
All the unused labor, expertise, and clout this turn (50 labor, 4 expertise, 2 finesse) will help promote our solution.
We will meet the refugees at the gates and allow them to join us in a ceremony of fealty. Any refugee who wants to join us will pledge allegiance to the flag, the Republic, and the Captain-Defender, and in exchange we will take them in, give them work, food, community, and all the dignities of a decent life, and allow them to prove themselves over time as citizens with the right to sit in the Sinclair People's Assembly. Citizenship requires at minimum 2 years of service in this fashion and is subject to review by the Clouts.
A story will review this interaction between the refugees and the Captain-Defender.
Orders 1
In St. Clair:
Production:
200 labor in producing Grub: 200 x 2 = +400 Grub.
50 labor in producing Junk: 50 x 3 = +150 Junk.
Building:
70 labor, 10 grub, 1 expertise, 100 junk, and 10 guzz on a Protein Pool.
Challenge: The Refugees
All the unused labor, expertise, and clout this turn (50 labor, 4 expertise, 2 finesse) will help promote our solution.
We will meet the refugees at the gates and allow them to join us in a ceremony of fealty. Any refugee who wants to join us will pledge allegiance to the flag, the Republic, and the Captain-Defender, and in exchange we will take them in, give them work, food, community, and all the dignities of a decent life, and allow them to prove themselves over time as citizens with the right to sit in the Sinclair People's Assembly. Citizenship requires at minimum 2 years of service in this fashion and is subject to review by the Clouts.
A story will review this interaction between the refugees and the Captain-Defender.
Spoiler Image :
A men cladded in brownish reddish metal armor with mixtures of furs stand on top of a hill as he over watching the busy settlement below him. He see the villagers going about their daily lives, the children running around playing, the craftsmans marking their works, the merchants trading their goods, and the samurais patrolling the path coming to and from the settlement.
The man watching over the booming settlement was Ogayori Denji head of the Ogayori Clan who want by many names; "The Master Tactician", "The Great Unifier", and "The Man who won the 100 Clans Wars", and many other titles. He was a man of renown who all respected and look up to for decisions of great important. An honorable man who tales of his skills in battle where legendary and who wisdom beyond the scope of what other men could even try to imagine.
In truth beyond the mystical rumors and tall tales Ogayori Denji was just the smart man born in the right time. To know truly about this man we will go back in time to an age of chaos and disorder to fully understand the man that is Ogayori Denji.
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Spoiler Image :
After the Long Winter many Japanese survivors were able to reach the Belle Isle due to the water being frozen over from the Long Winter. These Japanese survivors were depress, hungry and were cling onto little hope found that this Isle was fertile and had the food need to survive on. It was at this time when many families couldn't agree on anything democratically when it came to living areas and food so all the survivors families decide that it was best for everyone that each families found their own area to settle on not know that they were following their ancestral roots. Years gone by and any remote ideas of modern governing was long gone in favor of feudal lords ruling. Due to there being many families at the time of settlement their were about as many as 100 clans that formed on the Isle that the survivors lived on and the Isle had only so much to give. It was only a matter of time before one clan or more would come to the conclusion that would solve this problem and it name was War.
Spoiler Image :
100 Clans War Era was these most bloodiest war to ever grace the Belle Isle. Many clans rising and felled during this Era but the one clan that out last and them all in the end was the Ogayori clan and it was all due to the effort of a young warlord name Ogayori Denji.
Ogayori Denji was the youngest among the Ogayori clan heirs and was now suppose to even been allow in the war gather but due the Ogayori clan losing a major battle that claimed the lives of many of his elder siblings he was the next heir to the now weakened and devastated Ogayori clan. At the age of 13 Winters Ogayori Denji was now head of his clan. Many thought the boy not ready but they didn't know that the boy was gift with a cunning mind. When Ogayori clan boys were practicing just the way of the sword. Denji was studying the old world books that were left of the Age Forgotten. His mind became sharper and he believed that the lost knowledge of the old ways can help strengthen the clan. Using the old world knowledge he was able the to win decisive victory at the Belle Isle Beach which became well known as Battle of the Red Beach. Denji overwhelming victory were planned out in cold calculated and brought him the fame and admiration of his clansman alike.
After his victory Ogayori Denji use his old world knowledge push his ambition beyond just his land. He wanted to Conquer the whole Isle and used all the resources, manpower, and knowledge he had to make his dream come true. He allies those that were useful and destroys those that would be future threats. It took over 10 Winters for Ogayori Denji to end the 100 Clans War Era and just this action alone make him a true legend and was given the title "The Great Unifier".
Marcher Jovian
Emperor
- Joined
- Jul 12, 2013
- Messages
- 1,242
Faction name: Mikeland
Faction motto: I Like Mike
Faction background: Mike the Great wasn’t always Mike the Great, he used to just be Mike the Somewhat-Above-Average, a small-time nomad and trader that travelled the highways with just his family and a few hangers-on. But Mike knew he always deserved better, and he was proven right when he came across a golden opportunity: some freak accident of Oz had frozen over the entirety of a small oil-trading boomtown. Every living person was frozen to death, and every bit of food, scrap, weapons, and machinery was left perfectly preserved and usable. Naturally, Mike the Great refused to let such precious resources go to waste, and commandeered the settlement for himself. Soon enough, he was leading a small faction, with the ever-wise King Mike the Great at the top, King Mike’s family and clique just below, the occasional skilled jack that catches King Mike’s discerning eye in the middle, and the unwashed masses of proles at the bottom, constantly guided by King Mike’s ever-vigilant and well-fed guards.
Faction origin: Fiefdom
Faction leader: King Mike the Great
Leader’s story: It is said that once upon a time, many years ago, there was once a highwayman named Mike the Roach. Mike the Roach was a man poor in every virtue, and rich in every vice. Greed and gluttony, wrath and sloth, pride, lust and envy—he had them all. He managed to survive with all the tenacity of a cockroach, with the help of an ample willingness to run like a coward or betray an ally at the drop of a pin. It is said that during his travels, he came across a strange story, one that spoke of a wondrous wish-granter—a small golden sphere that could fulfil any desire that one could imagine. The catch, of course, being that its location was shrouded in mystery and guarded by all the dangers of the Oz. And so Mike plotted and schemed and gathered up every scrap of rumor he could and bided his time until at last he was ready. And he set off with a small expedition, lured by the promise of grand treasures and rewards. And at every obstacle he sent others forward first, and they’d meet their end at the hands of the Oz, and Mike would go second, once a safe path had been found. So the expedition continued, being steadily whittled down, person by person, until at last Mike the Roach reached the end of the journey, alone. And at that moment Mike the Roach died, and Mike the Great was born, a new man, a civil man. A man who had never before broken the Sacred Law of Icerust, and certainly never would again. This new man happened to have a hole in his memory where all his knowledge about his journey to the golden sphere was, but it doesn’t matter anymore anyways.
Leader’s past: Privileged Hack
Capital name: Popsicle Junction
Capital location: Onekama, Michigan
Capital type: Boomtown
War doctrine: Spearhead, Mechanized Wave, Rapid Withdrawal
Highway philosophy: Drive-by raiders
Faction motto: I Like Mike
Faction background: Mike the Great wasn’t always Mike the Great, he used to just be Mike the Somewhat-Above-Average, a small-time nomad and trader that travelled the highways with just his family and a few hangers-on. But Mike knew he always deserved better, and he was proven right when he came across a golden opportunity: some freak accident of Oz had frozen over the entirety of a small oil-trading boomtown. Every living person was frozen to death, and every bit of food, scrap, weapons, and machinery was left perfectly preserved and usable. Naturally, Mike the Great refused to let such precious resources go to waste, and commandeered the settlement for himself. Soon enough, he was leading a small faction, with the ever-wise King Mike the Great at the top, King Mike’s family and clique just below, the occasional skilled jack that catches King Mike’s discerning eye in the middle, and the unwashed masses of proles at the bottom, constantly guided by King Mike’s ever-vigilant and well-fed guards.
Faction origin: Fiefdom
Faction leader: King Mike the Great
Leader’s story: It is said that once upon a time, many years ago, there was once a highwayman named Mike the Roach. Mike the Roach was a man poor in every virtue, and rich in every vice. Greed and gluttony, wrath and sloth, pride, lust and envy—he had them all. He managed to survive with all the tenacity of a cockroach, with the help of an ample willingness to run like a coward or betray an ally at the drop of a pin. It is said that during his travels, he came across a strange story, one that spoke of a wondrous wish-granter—a small golden sphere that could fulfil any desire that one could imagine. The catch, of course, being that its location was shrouded in mystery and guarded by all the dangers of the Oz. And so Mike plotted and schemed and gathered up every scrap of rumor he could and bided his time until at last he was ready. And he set off with a small expedition, lured by the promise of grand treasures and rewards. And at every obstacle he sent others forward first, and they’d meet their end at the hands of the Oz, and Mike would go second, once a safe path had been found. So the expedition continued, being steadily whittled down, person by person, until at last Mike the Roach reached the end of the journey, alone. And at that moment Mike the Roach died, and Mike the Great was born, a new man, a civil man. A man who had never before broken the Sacred Law of Icerust, and certainly never would again. This new man happened to have a hole in his memory where all his knowledge about his journey to the golden sphere was, but it doesn’t matter anymore anyways.
Leader’s past: Privileged Hack
Capital name: Popsicle Junction
Capital location: Onekama, Michigan
Capital type: Boomtown
War doctrine: Spearhead, Mechanized Wave, Rapid Withdrawal
Highway philosophy: Drive-by raiders
thomas.berubeg
Wandering the World
Turn 1:
The Parliament old supply of Road-warriors and Patrol-Vehicles are slowly falling into ruin. Most, though adapted to the ice-roads, do not truly serve the needs of our Ice-eological army, nor do they let us carry the word the law effectively across the wastes. Our red and white army will vanish from the Ice-wastes for a short time, until they can be properly refurbished. We will also be training the new-fies we’ll accept from outside, until they properly understand the LAWS and REGULATIONS
Meanwhile, we will refit the halls of the hill to better headquarter us:
Build 2 Protein Pools (20 Grubb, 200 Junk, 20 Guzz) 140 Labor.
The remaining labor will pick through the skeleton-city outside for Junk, and whatever else we can find.
We will also refurbish our old Vehicles into the Patrolcraft (Creating 1 design)
Promote Ol’ Jack Hannigan, guild leader, to Clout, since he’s the voice of the Jacks.
Quest:
The old laws say that no one in need is to be turned away, and the old law is our law. We will accept these new-fies. (100 Grub, remaining expertise)
The Parliament old supply of Road-warriors and Patrol-Vehicles are slowly falling into ruin. Most, though adapted to the ice-roads, do not truly serve the needs of our Ice-eological army, nor do they let us carry the word the law effectively across the wastes. Our red and white army will vanish from the Ice-wastes for a short time, until they can be properly refurbished. We will also be training the new-fies we’ll accept from outside, until they properly understand the LAWS and REGULATIONS
Meanwhile, we will refit the halls of the hill to better headquarter us:
Build 2 Protein Pools (20 Grubb, 200 Junk, 20 Guzz) 140 Labor.
The remaining labor will pick through the skeleton-city outside for Junk, and whatever else we can find.
We will also refurbish our old Vehicles into the Patrolcraft (Creating 1 design)
Promote Ol’ Jack Hannigan, guild leader, to Clout, since he’s the voice of the Jacks.
Quest:
The old laws say that no one in need is to be turned away, and the old law is our law. We will accept these new-fies. (100 Grub, remaining expertise)
Icerust - Update 1
Long Winter Y100.M2: Icebreaker
The Wobblies
The surroundings of Ravenswood Commune may be desolated by decades of scavenging, but luckily its residents still have plenty of preserved food to get by. So, the IWW Grand Foreman Chandra Gardener directed the proletarians of Ravenswood Commune to scavenge some more metal for the needs of the Workers. Meanwhile, the local mechanics were busy blueprinting new vehicles and mechanical tools to produce them. First of them became a slow, but purposeful urban truck named “Icebreaker,” designed out of repurposed delivery truck and U-haul movers of the old world. Minimalistic and cheap to produce, it comes in two variants: the open-top transporter and unroofed desant vehicle, carrying a hammerer team armed with some of the most basic weapons of the proletariat.
(Ravenswood Commune: -156 Grub, +100 Junk, -4 Plush)
(The Wobblies: +new Design (“Icebreaker” Truck (IB-GA-1A)), +new Variant (“Icebreaker” Truck w/ Hammerer Squad (IB-GA-1B))
Grand Foreman’s challenge: Plight of the proletariat
The refugees (also known as the Hitchhikers) were, in principle, very much welcomed among the Wobblies. To start working out the solution, the IWW went for what they do best: establishing a committee. Passionate speeches were said, a two-minute round of applause was given, and a resolution was issued. According to the committee, new residential space needs to be built for housing the new arrivals, combined with a dedicated food court. Additionally, the marginalized Hitchhikers are supposed to be indoctrinated in the Unionist ideology - something that the existing members of the committee can effortlessly do in their tight work environment. Once the constructions are complete, the commune might start accepting the Hitchhikers.
(Investment: Labor 0/60, Expertise: 3/3, Finesse: 2/2, Award: +1d30 Proles (10% chance/turn))
Order Implacable
Under Sir Ducati’s supervision, the Order started building up Hammertown. A scrap chowder and a rat colony-based protein pool were built, and a new member of the Order’s Round Table was accepted into knighthood, to be replaced at his workstation by his apprentice and squire. In the meantime, the ruins of Old Milwaukee proved to be full of rats to catch for the faction’s grub supply.
(Hammertown: -208 Grub, -240 Junk, -32 Guzz, -1 Jack, +1 Clout, +Protein Pool, +Scrap Chowder)
Grand Master’s challenge: The Poor Fellows of Hammertown
A tradition of “roof raising” was established in Hammertown under the aegis and guidance of Sir Ducati. A wise man, he (or she? well, them) immediately saw that the biggest obstacle to accepting more poor fellows into the order was the lack of shelter. The problem was solved quite easily, as the surplus labor was dedicated to the shared activity, which is supposed to help the new arrivals integrate into the Order more easily. The only thing left is to find a Hearthkeeper, a venerable person to manage the roof raising in their spare time.
(Investment: Labor 120/120, Expertise: 2/2, Finesse: 0/1, Award: +2d20 Proles (5% chance/turn))
Monolith of Sarkic
In the ruins of Old Sault St. Marie, similar events took place in The Cathedral. As a new priest of Sarkic was promoted by Grand Karcist Maxwell himself, the rest of the Monolith’s manpower was thrown at ensuring the theocracy’s self-sufficiency. In addition to building a protein pool and a scrap chowder, the Karcists also salvaged plenty of food and scrap (especially the latter) from the ruins.
(The Cathedral: -440 Grub, +1100 Junk, -32 Guzz, -5 Plush, -1 Jack, +1 Clout, + Protein Pool, +Scrap Chowder)
Grand Kacist’s challenge: Heathens at our doorstep
True to their faith in the great Geometer of Flesh, the Sarkic cultists decided to accept all newcomers, providing living quarters, heat, and food for them - but also initiating them into the Sakic religion. This well-thought-out approach might actually turn the cult’s reputation around and make The Cathedral a much more sought-out place - once the tradition is fully established, that is.
(Investment: Labor 0/180, Expertise: 1/1, Finesse: 0/2, Award: +3d10 Proles (10% chance/turn))
Mommaz Boyz
In The Crib, Grandma Bubble Gum Ultraviolet kept ordering her grandkids around, mostly sending them into the toxic spore fog to hunt local wild dogs and occasional deer. Some of this surplus food was left in the “gift boxes” around the Land of Five Seasons for the new “kiddos” to find, eventually luring some desperate stragglers to The Crib. There, they found work at the construction of new metal recycling facilities that were set operational by the month’s end.
(The Crib: +280 Grub, -280 Scrap, -40 Guzz, -2 Plush, +6 Proles, +2 Scrap Chowders)
Grandma’s challenge: Lost grandkids
Grandma didn’t have to be asked twice about the possibility of having more grandkids to toy with. Unfortunately, her planning for their wellbeing, predictably, didn’t go farther than making sure that they younglings (regardless of their actual age) are taught appropriate “life lessons” when admitted into the family. Those who wanted to skip the educational part of the reception and even receive some goodies, were offered a last chance to bring a personal gift for their loving Grandma, usually in the form of a scrap metal donation. While this does add to the squalor, it also ensures that those that do get admitted get sifted through some rigorous selection process, as the “roughhousing” quite often devolves into fighting to the death for the right to stay in The Crib. Now, it’s time to teach everyone to follow this tradition.
(Investment: Labor 0/60, Expertise: 2/2, Finesse: 0/1, Award: +1d10 Proles, +1d3 Junk (5% chance/turn))
Mid-Apocalypse Chaos Carnival
Carnival Ground was searched for the plentiful scrap and some leftover gasoline canisters by the Carnival crew, while at the heart of Shelby Carnarium two new protein pools were built, hosting colonies of invasive shrimp from the lake inside heated water tanks.
(Shelby Carnarium: -268 Grub, +10 Guzz, -2 Plush, +2 Protein Pools)
Ringmaster’s challenge: Carnival visitors
Ringmaster Vanessa proposed a simple solution to the problem: instead of concentrating on expanding the shelter space and living conditions for the destitute arrivals, the Carnival should concentrate on getting them to arrive in the first place. To do that, she proposed building dedicated stands of Chaos Clown Confections, containing fried food delicacies (crispy shrimp in algae sauce, YUM!), wrapped in leaflets with a map of a safe route to Shelby Carnarium. This undertaking exists only in project yet, and will probably limit how many visitors Chaos Carnival may accept per month, but the word of its hospitality is guaranteed to spread across Icerust quickly.
(Investment: Labor 0/60, Expertise: 0/1, Finesse: 0/2, Award: +1d10 Proles (10% chance/turn))
Ogayori Clan
In Ryūgū-jō, a staple of the still young Icerust economy was built: a protein pool, producing low-quality carbs that can be recycled into seitan gluten. Meanwhile, the fishing village at the polynya’s edge prospered, as the locals brought home large amounts of lake fish, as well as some scrap salvaged from across the island.
(Ryūgū-jō: +541 Grub, +25 Junk, -5 Guzz, -4 Plush, +1 Protein Pool)
Clan Head’s challenge: Baka gaijin
True to his clan’s traditions, Ogayori Denji concentrated on the mentality of the accepted refugees, rather than on their conditions. While the latter will still need at least some attention, the former received proper guidance, with a code of honor and a book of rituals compiled (mostly orally) for the newcomers. This will probably keep some people away from Ryūgū-jō, but but not for the lack of trying.
(Investment: Labor 0/60, Expertise: 0/1, Finesse: 0/2, Award: +1d10 Proles (10% chance/turn))
Greylaw
With Grayhound Den being so desolate after years of marauding, it was only expected that the wily Alfa-Alfa would order Greylaw rookies to build a protein pool and a scrap chowder (the former hosting a rat colony and the latter being fed remnants of road signs from across the area).
(Thunderbolt: -186 Grub, -240 Junk, -30 Guzz, -8 Plush, +1 Protein Pool, +1 Scrap Chowder)
Alfa-Alfa’s challenge: Outlaws and losers
Most of Alfa-Alfa’s creative energy went into the recruitment tradition for the visiting losers. At that, he took inspiration from a book of the World of Autumn (being able to read helped a lot at that), named Fight Club. He ensured that specially selected bouncers, named Foxtrots (and led by Foxtrot of Foxtrots, or FoFo) would be placed near the gates of Thunderbolt. They would force newcomers to prove their worth by beating each other into pulp, bringing some tribute with themselves (which the refugees rarely had) or, when everything fails, simply letting themselves be berated and humiliated for hours in a display of discipline and obedience. As brutal as the tradition is, it will, at least, make sure the settlement’s fragile economy doesn’t get overwhelmed with an influx of mouths to feed. (Investment: Labor 0/60, Expertise: 4/4, Finesse: 1/1, Award: +1d10 Proles, +1d2 Junk (5% chance/turn))
Restless Spirits
In the frozen slums of post-apocalyptic Saginaw, roving gangs used to roam the 'burbs looking to take advantage of any passerby. After decades of inter-gang struggles the Restless Spirits began to rise above and assimilate the surrounding gangs under the leadership of Clara Eden. Ruthless and overwhelming, the Spirits managed to muscle the gangs out of the downtown area and take over the old stadium. Turning it into a garage and fortification for the Spirits, the Autos Bastille propelled the cult into a dominant position in the area. With their solidified power in the city it has now become common for gangs to join up and become a branch of the Spirits, looking to expand their influence and climb the ranks of the cultist establishment.
The gang is led by Dame Clara Eden, a ruthless and manipulative kingpin who turned her control of the former stadium, now Auto Bastille, into her gang’s major strength.
The gang’s capital is Auto Bastille, founded in a place known as Sagnasty: a desolated rust bucket of a town, stripped of all valuables and abandoned even by the most stubborn survivors, before the local water reservoir was discovered to be full of precious fuel from a leaking pipeline.
Dame’s challenge: Spiritless strangers
The place chosen by Restless Spirits for their capital was rumored to be in near abandonment even before the Long Winter came and buried it under five feet of snow. Yet, some desperate refugees still come to the gates of Auto Bastille, asking to be let in. In better times, we merely robbed and murdered such nobodies, but now they are barely worth a robbery. Some of our men and women even suggest that it’s time to accept them in our ranks, even if they have to start from the very bottom. With some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
Ol' Bunger's Bastards
The Bastards are a band of opportunists and marauders whose mentality revolves around respect for one’s age (as fleeting as such a concept is in the wasteland). Led by a venerable Ol’ Bunger, they live by a simple codex: “The survivors find a Max, the fighters find a Humungus, but the pensioners found Ol' Bunger.”
Ol’ Bunger is an enigmatic elder whose past is known mostly from his own indecipherable tall tales, the most coherent of which goes as follows, “Back in the ol' days, people were decent, ya see? They'd put a round between your eyes before takin' yer boots. Ol' Bunger knows what's what, and he'll let you know what's what, soon as he remembers where his boots up and went off to…”
The Bastards’ capital is The Kitchen, founded in a place known as Doonland: a surprisingly well-preserved Doon Heritage Village at the outskirts of Old Kitchener, featuring beautified old-world houses, good soils, clean water, plentiful lumber and scrap, some oil reserves, and decisively no natural defensive terrain.
Old Man’s challenge: Them youffs
Ol’ Bunger’s reputation is well known. Well, not particularly, but he’s been around for long enough, so now every youth knows this or that about him, or, at least, they think they do. Anywho. The point is, many of them youffs come to our Kitchen and ask for some snacks, and they’re willing to work for them. Maybe they should be let in? After all, you’ve gotta start with a Max before you hit an Ol’ Bunger, right? With some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
The Addlebrained Alcoholics
The brewers of Rotten Apple had a hard time finding any useful scrap in the emptied-out ruins of Alcoland, but their apprentices did succeed in bringing in some valuable edibles (not all of them hallucinogenic). In order not to depend on the scarce food supply of Alcoland, a fungi-producing protein pool was constructed in the home brewery, and some experts suggest to Evie Jiang that a scrap chowder should be built next, before the gang runs out of the precious scrap metal.
(Rotten Apple: -146 Grub, -100 Junk, -10 Guzz, -2 Plush, +1 Protein Pool)
Top Brewer’s challenge: Thirsty throats
Evie Jiang’s solution to the refugee problem was rather brewing-oriented. Not a particularly talented agriculturalist herself, the Top Brewer suggested that the less capable refugees could be taken in as “ploughmen” for the “farmlands” (a fact that ignored the rather obvious Ice Age behind the window, with several feet of snow covering the permafrost soil). She showed much more professionalism and insight when it came to her favorite topic of brewing, and a rather detailed apprenticeship program was put together for the moonshine distillery. One way or another, Evie’s advisers do point out that some shelter for the newcomers should be erected, and some clout should dedicate at least part of their time to the apprenticeship program. The positive side, of course, is that Rotten Apple won’t have a shortage of moonshine once the tradition is fully set. (Investment: Labor 0/60, Expertise: 4/4, Finesse: 0/1, Award: +1d10 Proles, +1d2 Plush (5% chance/turn))
Mikeland
Mike the Great wasn’t always Mike the Great, he used to just be Mike the Somewhat-Above-Average, a small-time nomad and trader that travelled the highways with just his family and a few hangers-on. But Mike knew he always deserved better, and he was proven right when he came across a golden opportunity: some freak accident of Oz had frozen over the entirety of a small oil-trading boomtown. Every living person was frozen to death, and every bit of food, scrap, weapons, and machinery was left perfectly preserved and usable. Naturally, Mike the Great refused to let such precious resources go to waste, and commandeered the settlement for himself. Soon enough, he was leading a small faction, with the ever-wise King Mike the Great at the top, King Mike’s family and clique just below, the occasional skilled jack that catches King Mike’s discerning eye in the middle, and the unwashed masses of proles at the bottom, constantly guided by King Mike’s ever-vigilant and well-fed guards.
It is said that once upon a time, many years ago, there was once a highwayman named Mike the Roach. Mike the Roach was a man poor in every virtue, and rich in every vice. Greed and gluttony, wrath and sloth, pride, lust and envy—he had them all. He managed to survive with all the tenacity of a cockroach, with the help of an ample willingness to run like a coward or betray an ally at the drop of a pin. It is said that during his travels, he came across a strange story, one that spoke of a wondrous wish-granter—a small golden sphere that could fulfil any desire that one could imagine. The catch, of course, being that its location was shrouded in mystery and guarded by all the dangers of the Oz. And so Mike plotted and schemed and gathered up every scrap of rumor he could and bided his time until at last he was ready. And he set off with a small expedition, lured by the promise of grand treasures and rewards. And at every obstacle he sent others forward first, and they’d meet their end at the hands of the Oz, and Mike would go second, once a safe path had been found. So the expedition continued, being steadily whittled down, person by person, until at last Mike the Roach reached the end of the journey, alone. And at that moment Mike the Roach died, and Mike the Great was born, a new man, a civil man. A man who had never before broken the Sacred Law of Icerust, and certainly never would again. This new man happened to have a hole in his memory where all his knowledge about his journey to the golden sphere was, but it doesn’t matter anymore anyways.
The kingdom’s capital is Popsicle Junction, founded in a place known as Singing Ice: a once-quaint village buried under a glacier, with a few patches of soil and old ruins reachable through its cracks.
King’s challenge: Envious freebooters
Many people are jealous over Mike’s well-deserved success. They come to the gates of Popsicle Junction and beg to be let in Mikeland. They offer to work for food and rarely have anything else of value. As despicable as these types are, Mike the Great might benefit from turning these losers into servants of his realm. On the other hand, he’d have to spare some food for them, and Mike does oh so love food. Anyway, with some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
The Motors Parliament
The Motors Parliament invested the most of its time and resources into feeding The Garage’s population, with two roach-producing protein pools being built and some replacement junk being salvaged. Additionally, Ol’ Jack Hannigan, a guild leader, was elevated by PM to be her right-hand man and lead future expeditions - once the Parliament’s once glorious car park is restored.
(The Parliamentary Garage: -282 Grub, -50 Junk, -20 Guzz, -7 Plush, -1 Jacks, +1 Clouts, +2 Protein Pools)
PM’s challenge: Garage visitors
PM acted rather welcoming to the poor visitors, even proposing to create a food bank for them. Little thought was put into the newcomers’ accommodation, but that’s also on the table after Jack Hannigan brought it up. Once implemented, this tradition will attract plenty of people to the Parliamentary Garage. (Investment: Labor 0/120, Expertise: 1/1, Finesse: 0/1, Award: +2d10 Proles (5% chance/turn))
The Republic of Sinclair
Just like in many other places across the wasteland, a protein pool producing fried crickets (based on a recipe found in the AsiaTown ruins) became the first Republican experience in building anything more complex than a shack. The rest of the month was spent hunting and salvaging across Old Cleveland.
(Sinclair: -6 Grub, +50 Junk, -10 Guzz, -4 Plush, +1 Protein Pool)
Captain-Defender’s challenge: Arriving freedmen
In accordance with their strange ways of meritocratic democracy, the Republic came up with the most comprehensive and humane refugee integration program across the entire Icerust. It includes a housing program and soup kitchens, as well as some ceremonies that ensure the freedmen join the Republic as true Sinclarians. What’s next? Ban on capital punishment!? Funny as it is, this program is as costly as it’s ambitious. Once its requirements are fulfilled, Sinclair is likely to become a true destination for the wasteland’s survivors. (Investment: Labor 50/180, Expertise: 2/2, Finesse: 2/2, Award: +3d20 Proles (10% chance/turn))
Map
PM's notes:
The stats are up.
Long Winter Y100.M2: Icebreaker
The Wobblies
The surroundings of Ravenswood Commune may be desolated by decades of scavenging, but luckily its residents still have plenty of preserved food to get by. So, the IWW Grand Foreman Chandra Gardener directed the proletarians of Ravenswood Commune to scavenge some more metal for the needs of the Workers. Meanwhile, the local mechanics were busy blueprinting new vehicles and mechanical tools to produce them. First of them became a slow, but purposeful urban truck named “Icebreaker,” designed out of repurposed delivery truck and U-haul movers of the old world. Minimalistic and cheap to produce, it comes in two variants: the open-top transporter and unroofed desant vehicle, carrying a hammerer team armed with some of the most basic weapons of the proletariat.
(Ravenswood Commune: -156 Grub, +100 Junk, -4 Plush)
(The Wobblies: +new Design (“Icebreaker” Truck (IB-GA-1A)), +new Variant (“Icebreaker” Truck w/ Hammerer Squad (IB-GA-1B))
Grand Foreman’s challenge: Plight of the proletariat
The refugees (also known as the Hitchhikers) were, in principle, very much welcomed among the Wobblies. To start working out the solution, the IWW went for what they do best: establishing a committee. Passionate speeches were said, a two-minute round of applause was given, and a resolution was issued. According to the committee, new residential space needs to be built for housing the new arrivals, combined with a dedicated food court. Additionally, the marginalized Hitchhikers are supposed to be indoctrinated in the Unionist ideology - something that the existing members of the committee can effortlessly do in their tight work environment. Once the constructions are complete, the commune might start accepting the Hitchhikers.
(Investment: Labor 0/60, Expertise: 3/3, Finesse: 2/2, Award: +1d30 Proles (10% chance/turn))
Order Implacable
Under Sir Ducati’s supervision, the Order started building up Hammertown. A scrap chowder and a rat colony-based protein pool were built, and a new member of the Order’s Round Table was accepted into knighthood, to be replaced at his workstation by his apprentice and squire. In the meantime, the ruins of Old Milwaukee proved to be full of rats to catch for the faction’s grub supply.
(Hammertown: -208 Grub, -240 Junk, -32 Guzz, -1 Jack, +1 Clout, +Protein Pool, +Scrap Chowder)
Grand Master’s challenge: The Poor Fellows of Hammertown
A tradition of “roof raising” was established in Hammertown under the aegis and guidance of Sir Ducati. A wise man, he (or she? well, them) immediately saw that the biggest obstacle to accepting more poor fellows into the order was the lack of shelter. The problem was solved quite easily, as the surplus labor was dedicated to the shared activity, which is supposed to help the new arrivals integrate into the Order more easily. The only thing left is to find a Hearthkeeper, a venerable person to manage the roof raising in their spare time.
(Investment: Labor 120/120, Expertise: 2/2, Finesse: 0/1, Award: +2d20 Proles (5% chance/turn))
Monolith of Sarkic
In the ruins of Old Sault St. Marie, similar events took place in The Cathedral. As a new priest of Sarkic was promoted by Grand Karcist Maxwell himself, the rest of the Monolith’s manpower was thrown at ensuring the theocracy’s self-sufficiency. In addition to building a protein pool and a scrap chowder, the Karcists also salvaged plenty of food and scrap (especially the latter) from the ruins.
(The Cathedral: -440 Grub, +1100 Junk, -32 Guzz, -5 Plush, -1 Jack, +1 Clout, + Protein Pool, +Scrap Chowder)
Grand Kacist’s challenge: Heathens at our doorstep
True to their faith in the great Geometer of Flesh, the Sarkic cultists decided to accept all newcomers, providing living quarters, heat, and food for them - but also initiating them into the Sakic religion. This well-thought-out approach might actually turn the cult’s reputation around and make The Cathedral a much more sought-out place - once the tradition is fully established, that is.
(Investment: Labor 0/180, Expertise: 1/1, Finesse: 0/2, Award: +3d10 Proles (10% chance/turn))
Mommaz Boyz
In The Crib, Grandma Bubble Gum Ultraviolet kept ordering her grandkids around, mostly sending them into the toxic spore fog to hunt local wild dogs and occasional deer. Some of this surplus food was left in the “gift boxes” around the Land of Five Seasons for the new “kiddos” to find, eventually luring some desperate stragglers to The Crib. There, they found work at the construction of new metal recycling facilities that were set operational by the month’s end.
(The Crib: +280 Grub, -280 Scrap, -40 Guzz, -2 Plush, +6 Proles, +2 Scrap Chowders)
Grandma’s challenge: Lost grandkids
Grandma didn’t have to be asked twice about the possibility of having more grandkids to toy with. Unfortunately, her planning for their wellbeing, predictably, didn’t go farther than making sure that they younglings (regardless of their actual age) are taught appropriate “life lessons” when admitted into the family. Those who wanted to skip the educational part of the reception and even receive some goodies, were offered a last chance to bring a personal gift for their loving Grandma, usually in the form of a scrap metal donation. While this does add to the squalor, it also ensures that those that do get admitted get sifted through some rigorous selection process, as the “roughhousing” quite often devolves into fighting to the death for the right to stay in The Crib. Now, it’s time to teach everyone to follow this tradition.
(Investment: Labor 0/60, Expertise: 2/2, Finesse: 0/1, Award: +1d10 Proles, +1d3 Junk (5% chance/turn))
Mid-Apocalypse Chaos Carnival
Carnival Ground was searched for the plentiful scrap and some leftover gasoline canisters by the Carnival crew, while at the heart of Shelby Carnarium two new protein pools were built, hosting colonies of invasive shrimp from the lake inside heated water tanks.
(Shelby Carnarium: -268 Grub, +10 Guzz, -2 Plush, +2 Protein Pools)
Ringmaster’s challenge: Carnival visitors
Ringmaster Vanessa proposed a simple solution to the problem: instead of concentrating on expanding the shelter space and living conditions for the destitute arrivals, the Carnival should concentrate on getting them to arrive in the first place. To do that, she proposed building dedicated stands of Chaos Clown Confections, containing fried food delicacies (crispy shrimp in algae sauce, YUM!), wrapped in leaflets with a map of a safe route to Shelby Carnarium. This undertaking exists only in project yet, and will probably limit how many visitors Chaos Carnival may accept per month, but the word of its hospitality is guaranteed to spread across Icerust quickly.
(Investment: Labor 0/60, Expertise: 0/1, Finesse: 0/2, Award: +1d10 Proles (10% chance/turn))
Ogayori Clan
In Ryūgū-jō, a staple of the still young Icerust economy was built: a protein pool, producing low-quality carbs that can be recycled into seitan gluten. Meanwhile, the fishing village at the polynya’s edge prospered, as the locals brought home large amounts of lake fish, as well as some scrap salvaged from across the island.
(Ryūgū-jō: +541 Grub, +25 Junk, -5 Guzz, -4 Plush, +1 Protein Pool)
Clan Head’s challenge: Baka gaijin
True to his clan’s traditions, Ogayori Denji concentrated on the mentality of the accepted refugees, rather than on their conditions. While the latter will still need at least some attention, the former received proper guidance, with a code of honor and a book of rituals compiled (mostly orally) for the newcomers. This will probably keep some people away from Ryūgū-jō, but but not for the lack of trying.
(Investment: Labor 0/60, Expertise: 0/1, Finesse: 0/2, Award: +1d10 Proles (10% chance/turn))
Greylaw
With Grayhound Den being so desolate after years of marauding, it was only expected that the wily Alfa-Alfa would order Greylaw rookies to build a protein pool and a scrap chowder (the former hosting a rat colony and the latter being fed remnants of road signs from across the area).
(Thunderbolt: -186 Grub, -240 Junk, -30 Guzz, -8 Plush, +1 Protein Pool, +1 Scrap Chowder)
Alfa-Alfa’s challenge: Outlaws and losers
Most of Alfa-Alfa’s creative energy went into the recruitment tradition for the visiting losers. At that, he took inspiration from a book of the World of Autumn (being able to read helped a lot at that), named Fight Club. He ensured that specially selected bouncers, named Foxtrots (and led by Foxtrot of Foxtrots, or FoFo) would be placed near the gates of Thunderbolt. They would force newcomers to prove their worth by beating each other into pulp, bringing some tribute with themselves (which the refugees rarely had) or, when everything fails, simply letting themselves be berated and humiliated for hours in a display of discipline and obedience. As brutal as the tradition is, it will, at least, make sure the settlement’s fragile economy doesn’t get overwhelmed with an influx of mouths to feed. (Investment: Labor 0/60, Expertise: 4/4, Finesse: 1/1, Award: +1d10 Proles, +1d2 Junk (5% chance/turn))
Restless Spirits
In the frozen slums of post-apocalyptic Saginaw, roving gangs used to roam the 'burbs looking to take advantage of any passerby. After decades of inter-gang struggles the Restless Spirits began to rise above and assimilate the surrounding gangs under the leadership of Clara Eden. Ruthless and overwhelming, the Spirits managed to muscle the gangs out of the downtown area and take over the old stadium. Turning it into a garage and fortification for the Spirits, the Autos Bastille propelled the cult into a dominant position in the area. With their solidified power in the city it has now become common for gangs to join up and become a branch of the Spirits, looking to expand their influence and climb the ranks of the cultist establishment.
The gang is led by Dame Clara Eden, a ruthless and manipulative kingpin who turned her control of the former stadium, now Auto Bastille, into her gang’s major strength.
The gang’s capital is Auto Bastille, founded in a place known as Sagnasty: a desolated rust bucket of a town, stripped of all valuables and abandoned even by the most stubborn survivors, before the local water reservoir was discovered to be full of precious fuel from a leaking pipeline.
Dame’s challenge: Spiritless strangers
The place chosen by Restless Spirits for their capital was rumored to be in near abandonment even before the Long Winter came and buried it under five feet of snow. Yet, some desperate refugees still come to the gates of Auto Bastille, asking to be let in. In better times, we merely robbed and murdered such nobodies, but now they are barely worth a robbery. Some of our men and women even suggest that it’s time to accept them in our ranks, even if they have to start from the very bottom. With some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
Ol' Bunger's Bastards
The Bastards are a band of opportunists and marauders whose mentality revolves around respect for one’s age (as fleeting as such a concept is in the wasteland). Led by a venerable Ol’ Bunger, they live by a simple codex: “The survivors find a Max, the fighters find a Humungus, but the pensioners found Ol' Bunger.”
Ol’ Bunger is an enigmatic elder whose past is known mostly from his own indecipherable tall tales, the most coherent of which goes as follows, “Back in the ol' days, people were decent, ya see? They'd put a round between your eyes before takin' yer boots. Ol' Bunger knows what's what, and he'll let you know what's what, soon as he remembers where his boots up and went off to…”
The Bastards’ capital is The Kitchen, founded in a place known as Doonland: a surprisingly well-preserved Doon Heritage Village at the outskirts of Old Kitchener, featuring beautified old-world houses, good soils, clean water, plentiful lumber and scrap, some oil reserves, and decisively no natural defensive terrain.
Old Man’s challenge: Them youffs
Ol’ Bunger’s reputation is well known. Well, not particularly, but he’s been around for long enough, so now every youth knows this or that about him, or, at least, they think they do. Anywho. The point is, many of them youffs come to our Kitchen and ask for some snacks, and they’re willing to work for them. Maybe they should be let in? After all, you’ve gotta start with a Max before you hit an Ol’ Bunger, right? With some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
The Addlebrained Alcoholics
The brewers of Rotten Apple had a hard time finding any useful scrap in the emptied-out ruins of Alcoland, but their apprentices did succeed in bringing in some valuable edibles (not all of them hallucinogenic). In order not to depend on the scarce food supply of Alcoland, a fungi-producing protein pool was constructed in the home brewery, and some experts suggest to Evie Jiang that a scrap chowder should be built next, before the gang runs out of the precious scrap metal.
(Rotten Apple: -146 Grub, -100 Junk, -10 Guzz, -2 Plush, +1 Protein Pool)
Top Brewer’s challenge: Thirsty throats
Evie Jiang’s solution to the refugee problem was rather brewing-oriented. Not a particularly talented agriculturalist herself, the Top Brewer suggested that the less capable refugees could be taken in as “ploughmen” for the “farmlands” (a fact that ignored the rather obvious Ice Age behind the window, with several feet of snow covering the permafrost soil). She showed much more professionalism and insight when it came to her favorite topic of brewing, and a rather detailed apprenticeship program was put together for the moonshine distillery. One way or another, Evie’s advisers do point out that some shelter for the newcomers should be erected, and some clout should dedicate at least part of their time to the apprenticeship program. The positive side, of course, is that Rotten Apple won’t have a shortage of moonshine once the tradition is fully set. (Investment: Labor 0/60, Expertise: 4/4, Finesse: 0/1, Award: +1d10 Proles, +1d2 Plush (5% chance/turn))
Mikeland
Mike the Great wasn’t always Mike the Great, he used to just be Mike the Somewhat-Above-Average, a small-time nomad and trader that travelled the highways with just his family and a few hangers-on. But Mike knew he always deserved better, and he was proven right when he came across a golden opportunity: some freak accident of Oz had frozen over the entirety of a small oil-trading boomtown. Every living person was frozen to death, and every bit of food, scrap, weapons, and machinery was left perfectly preserved and usable. Naturally, Mike the Great refused to let such precious resources go to waste, and commandeered the settlement for himself. Soon enough, he was leading a small faction, with the ever-wise King Mike the Great at the top, King Mike’s family and clique just below, the occasional skilled jack that catches King Mike’s discerning eye in the middle, and the unwashed masses of proles at the bottom, constantly guided by King Mike’s ever-vigilant and well-fed guards.
It is said that once upon a time, many years ago, there was once a highwayman named Mike the Roach. Mike the Roach was a man poor in every virtue, and rich in every vice. Greed and gluttony, wrath and sloth, pride, lust and envy—he had them all. He managed to survive with all the tenacity of a cockroach, with the help of an ample willingness to run like a coward or betray an ally at the drop of a pin. It is said that during his travels, he came across a strange story, one that spoke of a wondrous wish-granter—a small golden sphere that could fulfil any desire that one could imagine. The catch, of course, being that its location was shrouded in mystery and guarded by all the dangers of the Oz. And so Mike plotted and schemed and gathered up every scrap of rumor he could and bided his time until at last he was ready. And he set off with a small expedition, lured by the promise of grand treasures and rewards. And at every obstacle he sent others forward first, and they’d meet their end at the hands of the Oz, and Mike would go second, once a safe path had been found. So the expedition continued, being steadily whittled down, person by person, until at last Mike the Roach reached the end of the journey, alone. And at that moment Mike the Roach died, and Mike the Great was born, a new man, a civil man. A man who had never before broken the Sacred Law of Icerust, and certainly never would again. This new man happened to have a hole in his memory where all his knowledge about his journey to the golden sphere was, but it doesn’t matter anymore anyways.
The kingdom’s capital is Popsicle Junction, founded in a place known as Singing Ice: a once-quaint village buried under a glacier, with a few patches of soil and old ruins reachable through its cracks.
King’s challenge: Envious freebooters
Many people are jealous over Mike’s well-deserved success. They come to the gates of Popsicle Junction and beg to be let in Mikeland. They offer to work for food and rarely have anything else of value. As despicable as these types are, Mike the Great might benefit from turning these losers into servants of his realm. On the other hand, he’d have to spare some food for them, and Mike does oh so love food. Anyway, with some labor, expertise, or finesse investment, perhaps, we could set up a good tradition that will benefit us in the future. (Investment: ??? Award: a chance of a positive event occurring every turn)
The Motors Parliament
The Motors Parliament invested the most of its time and resources into feeding The Garage’s population, with two roach-producing protein pools being built and some replacement junk being salvaged. Additionally, Ol’ Jack Hannigan, a guild leader, was elevated by PM to be her right-hand man and lead future expeditions - once the Parliament’s once glorious car park is restored.
(The Parliamentary Garage: -282 Grub, -50 Junk, -20 Guzz, -7 Plush, -1 Jacks, +1 Clouts, +2 Protein Pools)
PM’s challenge: Garage visitors
PM acted rather welcoming to the poor visitors, even proposing to create a food bank for them. Little thought was put into the newcomers’ accommodation, but that’s also on the table after Jack Hannigan brought it up. Once implemented, this tradition will attract plenty of people to the Parliamentary Garage. (Investment: Labor 0/120, Expertise: 1/1, Finesse: 0/1, Award: +2d10 Proles (5% chance/turn))
The Republic of Sinclair
Just like in many other places across the wasteland, a protein pool producing fried crickets (based on a recipe found in the AsiaTown ruins) became the first Republican experience in building anything more complex than a shack. The rest of the month was spent hunting and salvaging across Old Cleveland.
(Sinclair: -6 Grub, +50 Junk, -10 Guzz, -4 Plush, +1 Protein Pool)
Captain-Defender’s challenge: Arriving freedmen
In accordance with their strange ways of meritocratic democracy, the Republic came up with the most comprehensive and humane refugee integration program across the entire Icerust. It includes a housing program and soup kitchens, as well as some ceremonies that ensure the freedmen join the Republic as true Sinclarians. What’s next? Ban on capital punishment!? Funny as it is, this program is as costly as it’s ambitious. Once its requirements are fulfilled, Sinclair is likely to become a true destination for the wasteland’s survivors. (Investment: Labor 50/180, Expertise: 2/2, Finesse: 2/2, Award: +3d20 Proles (10% chance/turn))
Map
Spoiler :
PM's notes:
The stats are up.
Last edited:
Immaculate
unerring
- Joined
- Jan 22, 2003
- Messages
- 7,623
Mommaz Boyz Orders for Turn 2
Building:
nothing
Resource Gathering:
Spend 201 labor on finding grub.
Spend 160 labor on finding scrap.
Recruit:
Demote 3 jacks to proles. If i can use their labor this turn, they should find grub.
Spend 285 grub on recruiting 95 proles.
Edited Monday, Sept 28
if we can get any form of resources for stories, i'd please like scrap...
Building:
nothing
Resource Gathering:
Spend 201 labor on finding grub.
Spend 160 labor on finding scrap.
Recruit:
Demote 3 jacks to proles. If i can use their labor this turn, they should find grub.
Spend 285 grub on recruiting 95 proles.
Edited Monday, Sept 28
if we can get any form of resources for stories, i'd please like scrap...
Last edited:
Ogayori Clan
Turn 1
Invest Order Baka gaijin
Labor 60, Expertise: 1, Finesse: 2
Building Order:
Build waste kitchen. (80 labor, 30 grub, 100 junk, 1 Exp)
Build Scrap chowders (140 junk, 20 guzz, 90 labor, 1 expertise)
Production Order:
100 labor will be designated to to oil district (guzz)
129 labor will be designated to junkman district (Junk)
Turn 1
Invest Order Baka gaijin
Labor 60, Expertise: 1, Finesse: 2
Building Order:
Build waste kitchen. (80 labor, 30 grub, 100 junk, 1 Exp)
Build Scrap chowders (140 junk, 20 guzz, 90 labor, 1 expertise)
Production Order:
100 labor will be designated to to oil district (guzz)
129 labor will be designated to junkman district (Junk)
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