Fallout: Scorched Earth IC Subforum
If you're looking for the OOC page, here is the link: viewtopic.php?f=31&t=492656
If you're looking for the OOC page, here is the link: viewtopic.php?f=31&t=492656
War. War never changes.
On that infamous day, October 23, 2077, America was brought to its knees with countless nuclear warheads.
Within two hours, America and much of Western civilization was reduced to cinders.
Yet, war, war never changes.
Even in the ashes of nuclear devastation, America remained embroiled in a perpetual state of turmoil.
Raiders have begun to partition what little remains of Appalachia.
The Enclave toils in its bunkers with sinister designs.
And try as they might, the Free States, Responders, and Order of Mysteries struggle to maintain some semblance of order amidst the bloodshed.
Fallout: Scorched Earth is set in the post nuclear remnants of Appalachia 2080. It's been three years since the bombs have dropped. Though Appalachia was spared the brunt of the nuclear blasts, a mere three years of development has forever changed and made Appalachia unrecognizable from the prewar era. Six regions have emerged with drastically different landscapes and cultures: the Forest, Ash Heap, Toxic Valley, Savage Divide, Mire, and Cranberry Bog. Much of the area's infrastructure and order has fallen, giving rise to anarchy and disorder. Though Appalachia is very much alive, brimming with raiders, mutants, robots, scavvers, and a brave few who have taken it upon themselves to rebuild civilization in their own images.
Our story begins...
You unfortunate few awake in the abysmal depths of a cavern, hands tied taught by thick rope and back against a jagged alcove of dew-sodden rock. As you and the others around you stir, a putrid scent fills your senses: blood. The odor is so pervasive that you can almost taste that coppery, velvet liquid. For a moment, your vision blurs, teary eyed from the agonizing stench, but as your vision reacclimates, you begin to take in more of your surroundings. This cavernous chamber was small and cramped, holding only a few such as yourself like prisoners. The chamber is hardly illuminated by candlelight, whether it be with candlesticks haphazardly put on the crevases of the rocky walls or in cracked skulls that lay about the room - perhaps of other prisoners. Messages in what appear to be written in blood are scrawled all about the walls. Beyond the whimpering and worried cries of your fellow prisoners, what could be heard was the howling of the brisk, Appalachian wind as it blew through the caverns and the far-off unified chants and hymns of your captors: the Mothman Cultists.
What led to your capture? Those details are for you to decide. Perhaps you merely took an innocent stroll into dangerous parts. Perhaps you were with a band of traders who were ambushed by the cultists. Or perhaps you foolishly sought to attack these cultists. Whatever the circumstances may be, you alongside few others are now in the malevolent grasp of the Mothman cultists, who saw to it to spare you. Maybe they thought killing you immediately would be too good for a person like yourself, or maybe they thought you would be an ideal convert for their faith.
Not all players have to start captured by the cultists. Players may not want to engage with this scenario at all. Or players can be people on the outside who aid in the eventual escape of the captured players. For those who opt to be of the people whom are captured by the cultists, please announce yourself as such early in this RP.
Of the captured few, your arms are bound by hempen rope fixed to a stake deep in the ground. There is a single exit in the chamber, a rotting slab of wood - with a carving of Mothman and two peepholes where the cryptid's eyes are - which the cultists call a door. You have been stripped of most of your equipment, carrying only your clothes, light armor, and any inconspicuous items you may possess. No guns, no ammunition, no multitools, no lighters, etc. Scattered around the room are waxen candles and the rotting corpses and scattered bones of other prisoners who may share the very same fate as you if you do not act. Flickers of light may realign your attention to messages written in blood along the walls. What shall you all do? Try to escape or accept your fate and convert to the cult of Mothman?