These things write themselves. They well and truly do.
Phenix, City of Thieves – Google Docs
Phenix, City of Thieves
City: Phenix City, Alabama
Population: 10,000
Controls: Phenix City
Government: Machine
Problem: Gangs
Heroic Opportunity: Mercenary Work
City Aspect: Corrupt
Continue reading Phenix, City of Thieves [The Day After Ragnarok]
Lewiston, Idaho
Gateway to the Poisoned Lands
It’s not the safest gateway, of course. But with the Utahns taxing the best roads, and what with both the Canadians’ and the Texans’ obtrusive oversight over their own paths to the Poisoned Lands, the caravan route from Lewiston to Minneapolis is the best way to get across the High Plains without official notice being taken. It also helps that Lewiston is at the confluence of the Snake and Clearwater rivers, and much more that seismic aftereffects from the Serpentfall created a series of natural dams that made the city accessible by sea, with a little help from engineers.
Not-coincidentally, I was in the vicinity of Altoona last weekend.
Haunters of Altoona – Google Docs
The Haunters of Altoona
City: Altoona, Pennsylvania
Population: 20,000
Controls: Altoona Works, portion of Pennsylvania Railroad
Government: Strongman
Problem: Serpent Cultists
Heroic Opportunity:Technology
City Aspect: Tense and Foreboding
Altoona is a company city. It became the effective headquarters of the Pennsylvania Railroad (PRR) after the Serpentfall, and PRR President Martin Clement is the ruler of not only Altoona, but all of Blair County and the railway from Pittsburgh to Harrisburg, although Pittsburgh increasingly disputes this (there aren’t enough people left in Harrisburg to meaningfully dispute anything). The massive rail manufacturing complex of Altoona Works still operates, salvaging, maintaining, and converting train locomotives to burn whatever the engineers can get their hands on; the city itself is a haven for mechanics and engineers, including the ones willing to experiment with Ophi-tech.
Continue reading The Haunters of Altoona [The Day After Ragnarok].
I wish that this game line would come back. There’s a lot of fun to be had in WWII meets Conan.
Santo (Location) – Google Docs
Santo (Location)
Santo – more properly, ‘Espiritu Santo’ is an island in the New Hebrides archipelago which was the site of a truly massive American military buildup during World War II. Engineering teams built camps, Marine and Navy bases, airfields, hospitals, and artificial harbors and drydocks capable of repairing battleships. By post-Serpentfall standards, the island is an endless treasure trove of valuable, and possibly irreplaceable, military loot.
Santo
The masked folk hero Santo (b. 1917; real name Rodolfo Guzmán Huerta, but nobody knows this) had just begun what would have been a long and illustrious career as a luchador when the Serpentfall hit. Santo rapidly fell afoul of the Almazan regime, once it overthrew the Mexican government: he has spent the last few years throwing the Sinarquistas out of southern Mexico, one fascist at a time. He is loved by the common folk. He is feared by every corrupt official from Tijuana to Tapachula. The Sinarquistas are torn between hating him for his defiance, and desiring to convert him to their cause.
He is Santo.
Soiled Doves [The Day After Ragnarok]
Well… they were various types of birds native to the American Southwest, before the Serpent Taint got into their bloodstreams and started reverting them back into four-winged, feathered microraptors (with what appears to be perpetually oil-stained plumage). The relatively few paleontologists still alive in the post-Serpentfall world are baffled about the idea of feathered dinosaurs, and there isn’t an actual evolutionary descent from microraptors to birds anyway, but there they still are. Unfortunately, Soiled Doves are mean-tempered, carnivorous, and spit poison (stats for a Venomous Snake with the fly and bolt powers).
But, yes, they can be tamed. Maybe not domesticated, but tamed. Just keep a lot of meat around. And keep Soiled Doves away from others of its kind. When one of them swarms, the rest of them do, too.
Needed to practice my Savage Worlds crunchy bit writeup skills a bit.
Forjas Taurus “Arpão” Deck-Mounted Mechanical-Action Ballista – Google Docs
Forjas Taurus “Arpão” Deck-Mounted Mechanical-Action Ballista
The Brazilian firearms company Forjas Taurus has been working on these monster-killers since just after 1945, thanks to a series of what turned out be prescient dreams suffered by the board of directors. The Arpão is a fairly ingenious weapon: it’s basically a ship-mounted ballista that uses a small diesel motor to cock the swing arm that fires its forearm-thick bolts. Interestingly, the Arpão is also designed to be cocked by hand – well, by using a hydraulic jack. It’s obviously much slower to reload that way, but an experienced crew can still put out a decent rate of fire.
Continue reading Forjas Taurus “Arpão” Deck-Mounted Mechanical-Action Ballista [Day After Ragnarok]
The Lost Fleet
[The Day After Ragnarok]
Most of the post-Serpentfall world has more or less forgotten about the Battle for the Atlantic. There are several good reasons for this: first off, that particular battle had been effectively over prior to the sudden end of the world, which meant that most of the heavy ships of the Allies had been already diverted to the Pacific theater — and that the naval forces of the Axis had largely ceased to exist. What naval forces did remain in the Atlantic are generally assumed to have been lost in the mega-tsunami that destroyed the American East Coast; certainly almost none of them later reported in. And, of course, the North Atlantic is now a watery deathtrap of rogue icebergs, expanding ice cap, and bitter cold. If any ships did survive, they would now be crewed by ghosts. Continue reading The Lost Fleet [The Day After Ragnarok]
winston-churchills-walking-cane-google-docs
Winston Churchill’s Walking Cane
This is the walking cane that Winston Churchill carried throughout World War II. As you might imagine, it can have a certain resonance, in the right hands. And if it ever ends up in the wrong ones, well, the pyrotechnics could be entertaining. Also, messy.
Continue reading Item Seed: Winston Churchill’s Walking Cane.
In case it isn’t obvious, I’m trying to finish up and clean up some stuff that’s been lurking in my hard drive for a while. Way overdue, honestly.
the-ebony-tarn-of-alberta-google-docs
The Ebony Tarn of Alberta
Not every effect of the Serpentfall was supernatural: in Alberta’s case, the mere shifting of tectonic plates was enough to bring its existing vast reserves of oil even closer to the surface. The countryside from wendigo-haunted Edmonton to new-walled Calgary has been transformed to a natural oil seepage, and the stubborn stay-behinds who refused to move after Alberta rang like a bell have discovered that the men in far-off, safe, warm Vancouver will pay good money for the suddenly accessible crude (and largely clean) oil while not asking too many questions. The province now has teams of wildcatters feverishly and roughly exploiting the new oil supplies, with whatever equipment they can find (or steal, or rob). In exchange, back East comes survival goods, luxuries, and new immigrants. Continue reading The Ebony Tarn of Alberta [The Day After Ragnarok]
