Cry blood, Tennessee.
For almost a century after the bombs fell, the state of Tennessee was nothing but dust and agony.
As nuclear fire scorched the land, woods and cities alike became smoldering cinders. Mountains crumbled. Rivers boiled. For most of humanity it was over all too quickly, and that was probably a mercy. In the months that followed, those that remained either perished from disease or choked on swirling clouds of irradiated ash. Starvation and fallout left their wasted, rad-sick bodies to mummify in the swirling dust.
Yet life remained.
In the year 2277, some of that life is found in Rawlins. It is a small, waste-girt county somewhere in central Tennessee and home to a few scattered pockets of humanity. Most live in a string of tiny ash-and-blood townships. Their names, Liberty, Stytown and Jonesville, are reminiscent of a simpler time. Beyond them, other souls roam the land in scattered road-tribes. The Iron Lines and Sundowners, to name a few. They chatter ancient chants and pray to spirits of The Long Ago. Yet others eke a living by scratching meager crops of rad-resistant corn from the burn soil while their neighbors herd flocks of ornery brahmin across the wastes. There’s even them that comb the ruins of humanity’s shattered mega-cities, hoping to strike it big.
As the year 2277 rolls around, old Tennessee is a place where water is rare and justice is likewise.
Tonight, that fact has brought a tiny, dedicated band of folks together.
Because evil has a name in Tennessee, and that name is Deacon Jeb.
There’s plenty of dangers in the Wastes. Pockets of lethal radiation. Animals made savage and monstrous by decades of vicious radiation. And, as always, man.
Deacon Jeb is such a man. Or was, if you believe the stories. He’s a mutated monster now, all agree – and some say he was a vicious, bloodthirsty killer even before the bombs fell. Others say he’s a spirit of the Old World, a demon come out of the Kansas Wastes – spawned from the union of a Nashville whore and none but the Devil himself. And he is bad, is Deacon Jeb. Bad to the bone. Just two winters ago he led a band of howling hellraisers in a trail of destruction across the irradiated countryside. They burnt a handful of outlying farmsteads, then ambushed a caravan at Ladle Rock. Some say they ate the survivors. Some say they chattered insane chants to a weird demon God that sang to them in the click-click-click of Deacon Jeb’s Geiger counter. When Sheriff Horner and her deputies rode out to meet them, it ended with an infamous shootout at the old Stardust Drive-In.
By the time the gunsmoke cleared seven men were dead, including Sheriff Horner's only son.
Deacon Jeb escaped that day. Yet now, rumors whisper, he's back. A prospector near Jonesville claims he saw the Deacon riding by on a buck as black as midnight, while terrified farmers up by Stytown says they've seen Deacon Jeb talking to the Devil at a crossroads at midnight. Whatever the case - this time, the people of Rawlins aim to put him down.
To hunt the outlaw and those that follow him and deal them all a dose of proper wasteland justice.
They're forming a posse up at the Bull’s Head bar in Liberty. The Water Merchant's Guild have put together a reward of several thousand caps already.
Are you coming?
Out of Character
Post-apocalyptic settings like Fallout and Wasteland lend themselves pretty easily to tropes and ideas from Hollywood's Wild West. Just replace sixshooters with laser pistols, big beef with two-headed cattle and Native Americans with tribals and mutants, and you're already well on your way. That's what this RP is about. Telling a story about the hunt for an infamous outlaw against a backdrop of a post-apocalyptic America that, thankfully, never was.
Here are a few simple rules to guide you all along:
1) This is based on the spirit of franchises like Fallout and Wasteland - not the flesh. Ex-legionnaires, NCR Rangers and Brotherhood outcasts can stick to their own backyards.
2) Horses exist. So do weird, retro-futuristic ray guns and giant, mutated animals.
3) With that in mind, please don't go overboard on the equipment. Leave your power armors and gauss rifles at home.
4) Behave. If you can't be civil to your fellow players, kindly take it elsewhere.
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[b]Name[/b] (Self-explanatory):
[b]Gender[/b] (Ditto):
[b]Appearance[/b] (Details, please):
[b]Equipment[/b] (Just give me the essentials):
[b]Religion[/b] (Who d'you pray to in the dark of night?):
[b]Smoker[/b] (Does your character enjoy that oh-so-unhealthy treat?):
[b]Biography[/b] (Where are you from, stranger?):
