Map of the San Saba Territories, Circa PHW 07, by Aesa Garcia
New Map of the San Saba Territories, Circa PHW 07, by Jonathan Loyd
Map of Bravado (Updated September 2023), by Aesa Garcia
Map of Bravado with Labels (Updated September 2023), by Aesa Garcia
Outside the boundaries of our normal game site, stretches the San Saba Territories. This large region of what was formerly known as the Lone Star, and even further before the fall as “Texas”, is the setting of our chapter. While there are various locations mentioned in the tabletop books in this region, we instead focus on a few areas of our story that we introduced at the start of 3.0.
After the Hiway War rendered the former settlement of Bravo to black ash, a caldera of mud and radiation slowly filling with toxic sludge, a new refuge emerged north of the former oil fields as the exodus of survivors sought a new home. After the war, a new force of order emerged in the Wastes, a testament to the hard work and brutal determination of the people, newly formed into the San Saba Territories. In the middle of it all, a small settlement grew despite the ravages of raiders, zed, and strange creatures from the ruins below the town.
The infant settlement of Drywater, just a few hours walk to the west of New Bravado’s extended territory, has become a companion port to our home town. Queen Jasper, the sickly but politically powerful matriarch of the Antler clan, came to New Bravado to oversee the perilous and brave process of sculpting a homeland from irradiated dirt. With the help of the Longberths, a faction of the San Saba Republic who have historically butted heads with the smaller merchant faction, this scrap of land became a dry port of call only rivaled by Waking Prime.
Essex is the first and largest stop on the Bravado Line - the iron wrought path of industry being blazed across the San Saba Territories by the newly formed Railroad Conglomerate. A city of light and sound and rare beauty, Essex is a metropolitan cousin to the boomtown, Bravado. Essex is built on the ruins of a city that came before it, and perhaps those ruins sit atop older ruins still that date back to before The Fall. A network of labyrinthian corridors run beneath the city, their nature yet unascertained.
Waking once hung in the skies over the San Saba Territories like a dripping, industrial thunderhead. Now, it is a monument to hubris, a crashed ruins on the outskirts of Bravado, where it was “landed” during the VOX POPULI event. Gestalt, this city is made up of the weary remains of thousands of smaller airship vessels, dissolved wholesale and channeled into a mighty floating city whose attitude shares its namesake - Waking Prime. Waking’s history is shrouded at best, and utterly inscrutable at its worst thanks to the concerted efforts of its citizenry to build atop itself until the past is rendered a derelict foundation for the gleaming and new. While the surface city remains mostly intact, the interior decks remain dangerously irradiated and uninhabitable.
Widow’s Peak is the ancestral home of the Lovelace family, an unassuming dynasty of Quietfolk who have lived, largely unnoticed, in the Blastlands around Old Bravo (and now New Bravado) for decades. Quietly, they have tended their land and kept their traditions. And it was only in the starving years that followed the Hiway War that this insular community looked beyond its high walls to the fading Lonestar and said, with kindness, “let us help”. The Lovelace’s heavy focus on community and family have led them, in the past, to tend towards isolationism. Since the Hiway War and the de-installation of the Barons however, the Lovelaces have slowly gained ground both literally and politically. Now, in terms of landmass, their holdings rival the Railroad Conglomerate’s.
Our Good Home Prudence Penitentiary for the Peregrine and Penalized, often pilloried as Killhouse, is a massive prison complex built on the remains of Temple Station. Originally founded as a way to house the rebel soldiers of Hiway Rob, it became something more in the years that followed the Hiway War. Once, it stood as a bastion of justice, or so they say, where the Warden of Killhouse would send out their Justices of Sin to weigh the crimes of those that have violated the laws of the San Saba. Where Killhouse once housed some of the worse criminals the San Saba has captured, bound under lock and key until the annual Indulgence, now the halls and tunnels of the prison have been emptied of prisoners and staff alike. Killhouse remains an impressive fortress, and the San Saba Board has plans to use it as a forward base of operations during the War of Antlers.
On the coast of the Lonestar, at the gossamer edge between blastland and the blind depths; lies The Clutch, oldest port city in the San Saba and generational home of sailors, fishmongers and leviathan hunters alike. The city itself, attached to the port, is a vibrant crystal growing from the fetid gray matter of the Spoiled Coast. Mostly old warehouses that have been patched and rebuilt so many times as to recall the topical Ship of Theseus, small lean-tos have been constructed in the eves of the oldcestor facilities. Possessing a kind of “grown over'' look, the thatch-roofed slums and converted boat houses meld into one another along a long promenade that begins at the mouth of the port and extends some half a mile inland. Otherwise, the porthouses of the clutch encrust the stone mantle of the port like so many glowing barnacles grown over a prefall shipwreck.
The subject of campfire stories and fever dreams, the Roving City is a tale as old as the Wastes, dating nearly back to the Fall - but exists in the memory between ancient history, the ageless days since, and the present. Armed only with these legends and snippets of a map won at the Dead Man’s Hand Tournament, Survivors began to delve West, looking for the lost passage between the San Saba Territories and the Burning Coast and it’s jewel, Hell Dorado. After the discovery of Barogue, it quickly became the newest resource for the San Saba, full of secrets and materials from generations previous. Now the western most stop on the Oxline, the Railroad Conglomerate is hard at work exploiting the scrap and metal riches of the city, tearing the ancient husk apart to feed their insatiable need for expansion.
After the Hiway War rendered the former settlement of Bravo to black ash, a caldera of mud and radiation slowly filling with toxic sludge, a new refuge emerged north of the former oil fields as the exodus of survivors sought a new home. After the war, a new force of order emerged in the Wastes, a testament to the hard work and brutal determination of the people, newly formed into the San Saba Territories. In the middle of it all, a small settlement grew despite the ravages of raiders, zed, and strange creatures from the ruins below the town.
Map of the Township of Bravado, by Aesa Garcia
Our settlement is situated north of the City of Light and Sound, the metropolis known as Essex, and south of the capital of the Territories in the flying city of Waking. The tiny town, known as Bravado, is a forgotten stop on the Oxline, the iron-wrought train system of the Railroad Conglomerate. The Railroad Conglomerate (or RRC), is a sprawling faction of commerce and industry that seeks to continue their domination of the San Saba wastes by expanding their rail network. For them, Bravado is but one more dot on a map, outlining the path of glory stretching across the San Saba Territories like veins in the beating heart of the Lone Star, connecting every settlement in the area together once more whether they like it or not.
The township itself is hardly more than a few buildings, a Post Office, workhouses, and some permanent tent installations, hastily built and poorly maintained. A General Store, owned and maintained by the Railroad Conglomerate, sits ramshackle at its center, across from the Oxline Depot. The town was ignored in the recent expansion of the Oxline, but still offers a promise of food and bed for those willing to work in the ruins under the city. Those that risk the undead in the tunnels below help scavenge scrap and valuable material to send up the line to Essex and Waking. But now, with the discovery of a lost city in the Dune Sea to the west and an western expansion of the Oxline towards the Broken Coast of El Dorado, the tiny town of Bravado has become relevant again.
With the passion of someone that knows a valuable secret, Felicity Redfield, a disgraced but resourceful member of the RRC, has maneuvered their way into the title of the new Foreman of Bravado, laying exclusive claim to the exploration into the ruins under the town and the treasures within. Following the last words of the inhabitants of Barogue, Felicity believes a cryptic message to seek out the “dwelling of the last cradle, the last bastion of bravery, forgotten and ignored” can only refer to the sleepy town of Bravado. A veritable wave of prospectors, Jones, and treasure hunters has flocked to the town following a sense of adventure and a desire for fortune and glory.
Amongst the tarnished and venerated past mingles a bright and terrifying future. Here in the bustling boomtown of Bravado, Dusters step from the shrieking cars of the Oxline, and set their hopeful, dejected, or assessing eyes on this piece of territory for which so many souls have lived, fought, loved, and died. Our settlement lies on the precipice of significance, and only you can tell the story of what happens next.
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Essex is the first and largest stop on the Bravado Line - the iron wrought path of industry being blazed across the San Saba Territories by the newly formed Railroad Conglomerate. A city of light and sound and rare beauty, Essex is a metropolitan cousin to the boomtown, Bravado. Essex is built on the ruins of a city that came before it, and perhaps those ruins sit atop older ruins still that date back to before The Fall. A network of labyrinthian corridors run beneath the city, their nature yet unascertained.
The most recent iteration of this city was founded by one Augustine Amberdraught, distiller-prince and merchant-governor formerly of New Austen. Following a scandal in New Austen that revealed the Amberdraughts as nefarious drug dealers and gangsters the Amberdraught family picked up and moved east to partner with the RRC and Ms. Felicity Redfield. Essex was founded at the same time as Bravado - and it was the Amberdraughts who provided half the effort and capital to construct the Oxline between the RRC work camps and the young city of Essex. Amberdraught was deposed and sent to the depths of Prudence Penitentiary following his actions during the Fountainhead Incident, and the city is now led by his daughter and new governor, Missy Amberdraught.
Following the world-shaking happenings of the Fountainhead Incident several years ago now; Essex remains a hub city, but has otherwise been fundamentally changed. Larger than Bravado by a few thousand citizens and populated mostly with townies and tradesfolk, Essex was and is known for its party culture (a function, most likely, of their founder’s distillery located in the heart of the city) and for the heavy presence of Kings Courtiers and Hedonites that followed the Amberdraughts like loyal vassals from their late New Austen holdings. After a series of events that nearly destroyed the city, the population has swelled with tourists, traders, and merchants seeking new opportunities in the misty bows of the shadowed streets and allies.
The Railroad Conglomerate, and by proxy, the San Saba Board, heavily taxes the use of the railroad and the imports from Bravado allow Essex to grow fat off Bravado’s toil. Many RRC workers have families in Essex, considering it safer than the delving frontier. In the wake of the tumultuous year, both the Grave Council and the Tribes Disparate have reinforced their interests in the city, joining the RRC in their attempts to profit from the new conditions of the city.
Less than a year ago, the city of Essex was rocked by what has become known colloquially as the Fountainhead Incident. A fifth morgue emerged in the center of the city, devastating the site of the Amberdraught mansion and prompting an arms race as the different factions of the region competed to control and understand the strange edifice that emerged. The structure was made of some poured material, not quite stone, not quite clay, but something ancient and new at the same time. Aided by a recently awakened Semper Mort nicknamed The Scientist, the city struggled to understand the purpose and meaning of the newest morgue - the Fountainhead.
After weathering a siege of zed and Bloodghasts, ferocious half-dead raiders birthed from hidden facilities, labs, and cryo-tubes beneath the city, the Grave Council claimed the right of stewardship over the morgue as part of their contract for all morgues of the region. Contested by the Governor, the Grave Council set about trying to understand what they had claimed and tried to understand the keening music that began from behind the steel door of the Atrium; the heart of the Fountainhead.
In the month that followed, something else was awakened, or perhaps created by the Fountainhead. Emerging in a scene of carnage and psionic music, a terrible Monster haunted and hunted through the streets of the City of Light and Sound. After being cornered and chased through the morgues of Essex back to the terminus of the Atrium within the Fountainhead, the collective might and will of the people beat back the darkness through the use of crystalline lattices infused with song and intent. The Fountainhead, miraculously, seemed to assist in this effort. Some called this an act of a tiny god, others happenstance, and others still, of some education and regard, insist the Fountainhead was guided by the will of the consciousnesses who made mythos out of it, in an act of self-fulfilling genesis.
There are many stories of what supposedly was born by the Fountainhead. The church of a tiny god, founded by terrified pilgrims, the sacrifice enacted by a zealot who cast herself into the Fountainhead to be reborn, fantastical journeys or hallucinations into some other place within the morgue, but none can deny that something went wrong. The morgue appeared to sing its first and frantic song with the notes the Survivors gifted it. In the first throes of harmony it killed the Monster that plagued the city of Essex and consumed it entirely before the melody became discordant. The Crystodyne Principle.
The purpose of the Fountainhead was corrupted by the Monster, thought destroyed, and perverted its ability to remake the city in a new and terrible image - a barren desert veined with black sludge with a sky choked with mold spores, a perfect ecosystem void of any survivor. Slowly but surely, strange zed-like simulacrums of the Fountainhead known as the Faceless invaded the city, attempting to replace the citizens and pour the strange clay over and through buildings and residents alike to terraform the center of Essex into something wrong.
The Fountainhead was stopped from its task at the last possible moment by the heroic actions of a few that succeeded in stopping the process, perhaps “killing” the tiny god. Instead of a vision of something dead and lifeless, the Fountainhead instead created new life within the heart of the city. The “death” of the tiny god created thousands upon thousands of trees, mushrooms, plants and flora throughout a vast green space in the heart of Essex. Some say the reinvigorated landscape was exactly what the Fountainhead was supposed to create. Every corner of the city is now filled with flourishing remains of the Fountainhead’s melody and the city has been forever changed. Galatea.
The Fountainhead’s last act changed every aspect of the City of Light and Sound. At the heart of Essex towers a massive tree that can be seen for miles in every direction, and vibrant plantlife has overtaken the city in a strange harmony of buildings and nature. Surrounding the site of the Fountainhead and the former Governor’s Mansion is now a thick and tangled forest full of new life and strange new flora and fauna known generally as The Thicket. At night, the lights that gave the city its name have been joined by fireflies and bioluminescent fungi that, in the shadow of what was The Fountainhead, now glow as steadily as the unflickering electric lamps that predate them.
While the Railroad Conglomerate is still heavily invested in the Oxline, their focus has shifted to the floating city of Waking Prime instead as the new capital of the San Saba Territories. The Grave Council and the Tribes Disparate have focused their renewed efforts on Essex, with the Antler Queen declaring the tree that grew in the place of the Fountainhead a holy site for her faction, and her faith.
The Tribes Disparate have shifted much of their trade routes and established as permanent of a home as they are capable of within the city. Essex now serves as a pilgrimage for the faithful as they continue their nomadic travels across the Lone Star. Antler Queen Jaspar is still of poor health but renewed fierceness, as there is hope that some newly discovered plant life with the Thicket may be a cure for her sickness.
The Grave Council continues to be a dominant force in the city thanks to the presence of so many morgues and the beacon of their financial might, the Grave Bureau. Despite rumors of a schism within their ranks the leader of the faction, Takheeta Firstborn, is still an effective icon for the organization. The Council’s focus has withdrawn inward, but the Sanctioned Graverobbers and Tax Collectors still constantly travel to and from their headquarters in the Grave Quarter.
The daughter of the former Governor, Missy Amberdraught, now stands as the leader and new Governor of Essex, but she is young and unsure. Missy Amberdraught spends more time gambling in the Brass Rose than worrying about the influences of the three factions that have their sights on cultivating the new vibrant life within the city for their own profit and power.
The skyship-city of Waking once hung in the skies over the San Saba Territories like a dripping, industrial thunderhead. Now, it is a monument to hubris, a crashed ruins on the outskirts of Bravado, where it was “landed” during the events of VOX POPULI. Gestalt, this city is made up of the weary remains of thousands of smaller airship vessels, dissolved wholesale and channeled into a once floating city whose attitude shares its namesake - Waking Prime.
Waking’s history is shrouded at best, and utterly inscrutable at its worst thanks to the concerted efforts of its citizenry to build atop itself until the past is rendered a derelict foundation for the gleaming and new. Some rumors suggest that this may be one of the ancient TITAN CITIES, similar to the Lost City of Barogue, while others have claimed that it was the beating heart of a den of mad scientists before the Hiway War known as Aggieland.
While the surface city remains mostly intact, the interior decks remain dangerously irradiated and uninhabitable. The radioactive approach to the husk of the city has been cordoned off as the WAKING EXCLUSION ZONE and remains a reminder of the insidious dangers of the irradiated runoff and wreckage from the emergency landing. The only truly safe way to reach Waking now is via airship, but the Railroad Conglomerate continues to seek out a safe way to reclaim the interior. They have recently commissioned deadly ventures into the radioactive decks below, in dangerous but profitable LIQUIDIATION RUNS. If a survivor stays too long in the lethal hot zones, they will simply melt away as their body fails at the cellular level. Even Retrogrades are not immune to the deadly radiation within.
The robust technology Waking once used to stay afloat has failed, a hundred different energy sources passing through the arcane geometries of The Capacity Engine; the mechanism that once fed the monolithic and mortal engines that propelled the city’s fifteen hundred stabilizing jets. While it was functional, it could create such sulphurous byproduct that the runoff - which secretes from every seeping joint of the city’s vast hull, would poison the lands below and render the fields fallow and unlivable. Now that built up toxin seeps into the lands and waters near Bravado.
While the gleaming crown of Waking, Eureka Tower, a tower so high and pristine as to belong in a different era of the world, beams archly out over the wastes of the San Saba - its inhabitants are still unable to see the filth below for all the filigree. However, the city remains the seat of the San Saba Board, and they still claim the capital of the Territories from atop the corpse of their former airship.
In the Boardroom at the penthouse level of Eureka Tower, the most powerful personalities in the Lonestar scheme and schism - while below in the gleaming streets of the Magnolia District the first ever Waste’s Fair was held in celebration of the merger between the Railroad Commission and the Conglomerate - and the formation of the San Saba Board. While the luster may have dimmed on the surface city, the Board is determined to remind any that would question their will why they remain the government of the San Saba Territories — One way or another.
The infant settlement of Drywater, just a few hours walk to the West of New Bravado’s extended territory, has finished its first permanent structures and acquired its first permanent citizens. Queen Jasper, the sickly but politically powerful matriarch of the Antler clan, came to New Bravado to oversee the perilous and brave process of sculpting a homeland from irradiated dirt. With the help of the Longberths, a faction of the San Saba Republic who have historically butted heads with the smaller merchant faction, the scrap of land became a dry port of call only rivaled by Waking Prime.
The culmination of the Junkerpunks’ dreams come true, the new settlement near our town of Bravado is really honoring the choice the players made during our online event, The Certainty of Tides. During the party in the Clutch, the faction known as the Muddy Water Accord rose to prominence in the Junkerpunks and decided to compete with the RRC on equal terms. Their continued success led to being chosen as a victor of the San Saba Cup Murderball prize to earn a seat on the Board for 3 months. Following a significant victory in the boardroom after the backing of Queen Jasper, the Junkepunks and Admiral Sinker Swim earned to right to fund the Drywater Settlement Package.
Survivors competed to complete tasks across the town, from offering Thoughts & Prayers, building fashion furniture, performing feats of mental gymnastics, breaking up ice around the lake, picking up trash and protecting the local wildlife, or even simple manual labor. For every four tasks completed, you could submit a vote towards which of three possible Drywater Upgrades would be established in the town. The Upgrade that won popular support, the REDFIELD BOATEL AND SPA would bring new resources to the town of Bravado, based on which faction was backed as a secondary support for Drywater.
The three options were:
THE CALI*CO-OPERATIVE ARSENAL
Owned and Operated by the dependable Cali*Co Caravan, the *Co-Operative Arsenal will employ the local Junkerpunk population for the purpose of munitions development and production. Located on the scenic ridge that overlooks Drywater, the Arsenal will develop and produce munitions for the defense of the Greater San Saba and her citizens from the threat of zed, raider, or invading body. Espoused by the Holy Mother Queen Jasper of the Tribes Disparate, the Arsenal is her final attempt at preserving the San Saba as the homeland of her people and their allies.
THE REDFIELD BOATEL AND SPA
This sumptuous lounge and resort will be just one stop down the Oxline from New Bravado and attract personages of affluence from across the Greater Wastes. Local Junkerpunks will make up the staff of the Boatel and Spa and be provided with a living wage, ongoing benefits, and housing. Located on the river, the Boatel and Spa will technically be a mobile living environment permanently docked at Drywater. The kitchens at the Redfield will produce highbrow brews and confections beyond anything the San Saba has seen so far, and are personally endorsed by Felicity Redfield, CEO of the Railroad Conglomerate.
THE IMIX INSTITUTE
The closest GraveTech research facility is located in the Dead Marches, many miles to the distant south, beyond even the Blastlands. To be placed in the middle of town as a multi-story cathedralex, the Imix Institute would employ and educate the local Junkerpunk population as researchers and volunteers in the ongoing effort to understand and benefit from the Mortis Amaranthine and the Grave Minds that lurk within it. This project is endorsed by the leaders of the Grave Council, Takheeta Firstborn and Commander Rampart. Research from this facility would likely produce compelling advances in Grave and Psi- technologies.
The tasks to support Drywater were quickly picked up by those in the RRC, particuarly as Felicity Redfield was in town to promote the new Redfield Boatel & Spa option. Felicity was a bit ruffled after being literally shipped to town in a box from Requiem, but offered compelling reasons of fairness and equality for the Junkerpunk workers in the new town. In addition, she offered a number of job opportunities exploring the depths of Lake Bravado in a new submersible device called The Blackfish.
Other faces came in town as well, to explain in more detail what their Drywater Upgrade would offer to the town. Commander Rampart of the Grave Council offered a disturbing potential future, with the time being right for another Archon incursion in only 10 more months, exactly one year to the date of the emergence of the Monolith. Since the device that allowed the town to oppose the Archons was destroyed in the fight, the Imix Institute would offer potential new weapons to fight back against an imminent threat from beyond death, including perhaps an answer to the threat of the Gravetouched in town.
Finally, the venerable Queen Jasper, Holy Mother, asked the question of what role the town of Drywater would really play into the future with an offer to reshape her legacy with the weapons and research of the Cali*Co Arsenal. Dubbed the “generational trauma gun” by her opponents, the Arsenal would offer military support to keep the Junkerpunk settlement unthreatened by opponents and allow them true neutrality in a dangerous San Saba political network. The Queen also met with her loyal subjects, including the Cervaxi Tribe, the SCAdians while in town to speak about an upcoming event for the Tribes. Visitors from the north in the shape of the Bloodied Wolves from Verdigrift signed a contract and offered protection to the Queen while she was in town, and listened to her call to arms. Her message was dire, even if she was at peace with the choice…
With the success of the RRC’s bid to create a new Boatel & Spa in Drywater, the town of Bravado could soon see new items like Brews, Meals, Culinary devices, or even Gizmos being traded with our fair town in the future… and the future is bright indeed thanks to the efforts of the town in dealing with an unfortunate pollution issue…
On the coast of the Lonestar, at the gossamer edge between blastland and the blind depths; lies The Clutch, oldest port city in the San Saba and generational home of sailors, fishmongers and leviathan hunters alike.
The peoples of the Spoiled Coast live in bizarre harmony with their unforgiving circumstances. With resignation or enthusiasm; the waterkind of the East wrestle with the forces at play beneath the black waters of the Inksea and eke out a living as tradesmen and killers; the few willing to brave the many-toothed waves and haul their thin spoils to shore.
Much of the money that flows through the Clutch stems from its single, massive cargo port. Most of the trade from Gatorland, 40Watt, and other Southeastern locales must pass through the castiron gates of The Clutch before being trucked many miles to its final destination somewhere inside the San Saba Interior. In the miles of open water and open mortis between the Clutch and more eastern ports, tradeships must contend with privateers, homicidal weather, hypermutated megafauna and the threat of badbrain outbreaks that, in the close confines of a sailing ship, spell doom for the entire crew.
The city itself, attached to the port, is a vibrant crystal growing from the fetid gray matter of the Spoiled Coast. Mostly old warehouses that have been patched and rebuilt so many times as to recall the topical Ship of Theseus, small lean-tos have been constructed in the eves of the oldcestor facilities. Possessing a kind of “grown over'' look, the thatch-roofed slums and converted boat houses meld into one another along a long promenade that begins at the mouth of the port and extends some half a mile inland. Otherwise, the porthouses of the clutch encrust the stone mantle of the port like so many glowing barnacles grown over a prefall shipwreck.
The Clutch is the most populous port in the Lonestar, the oldest port city in the San Saba and generational home of sailors, fishmongers and leviathan hunters alike. Largely inhabited by Baywalker clans and offshore Junkerpunk Saltwise this waterlogged settlement is used to surviving and rebuilding after constant turmoil from within and without. After the chaos of the Hiway War, what was once a struggling outpost that trucked largely in old ship tech and waster eels is now a bastion of trade - and host to a half dozen pirate clans that raid both sea and portwards. Because of the resurgence of the San Saba Board, the fortunes of the Clutch have waned as trade inland has dried up.
Once seen as a premium, sea-side resort, Port Victory is mostly sleepy and quiet now, the bones of former opulence resting dormant. Statues and remnants of the Purebloods who owned this land are all that remains -- now it belongs to the people. Massive white dunes crest into the berm itself and beyond the city on all sides. Curiously, the sands continue inland along dead veins of waterways, towards the Dune sea to the north-west. The further you travel from the coast, the more sterile the sand becomes until there is almost no trace of life outside of the dew-collecting succulents and tracks easily blown away by harsh winds.
The population of the Clutch varies, with most of its official residents being sailors who spend a nontrivial amount of their year at sea. Those who live there as permanent residents are generally shopkeepers, bartenders, craftfolk or family - extended family in the case of many Junkerpunk households. In the bay of the Clutch is a motley assembly of ships and makeshift buildings built on an uncertain foundation of broken hulls and former vessels. Serving as a partial seaport for larger ships that can’t make a shallow harbor, and a home for captains of the Junkerpunks that can never be claimed as territory of any landowner, the Flotilla is the heart and soul of the Junkerpunk faction. Over the years, the Flotilla has waxed and waned like the tides as new ships are built in the dampened dry docks or as broken carcasses of lost fleets are added to the ramshackle mass.
Underneath the murky water of the Inksea lies the sole morgue of the Clutch, known only as the Cicatrix. When the Gravemind reclaims biomass nearby, the tendrils that emerge resemble that of a monstrous octopoid kraken, dragging down helpless ships and those too near the water alike. The capricious nature of the morgue means the newly dead are first returned to a chaotic embrace of imminent drowning. Those that don’t survive the return are thought to become the Drowned Ones, as the spark of life is chased away by a need for air and survival.
Our Good Home Prudence Penitentiary for the Peregrine and Penalized, often pilloried as Killhouse, is a massive prison complex built on the remains of Temple Station. Originally founded as a way to house the rebel soldiers of Hiway Rob, it became something more in the years that followed the Hiway War. Once, it stood as a bastion of justice, or so they say, where the Warden of Killhouse would send out their Justices of Sin to weigh the crimes of those that have violated the laws of the San Saba.
Where Killhouse once housed some of the worse criminals the San Saba has captured, bound under lock and key until the annual Indulgence, now the halls and tunnels of the prison have been emptied of prisoners and staff alike. Killhouse remains an impressive fortress, and the San Saba Board has plans to use it as a forward base of operations during the War of Antlers. Several detachments of the Fallow Hope have made recent agreements with Tabitha St. Mercy, the last Warden of Killhouse, to occupy the fortress in the absence of prisoners.
“Welcome again to our esteemed, extraneous, and enervating guests. How opportune to have you here... On any other day of the year, I would be honored to show you our humble hospitality. Indeed, it is our pleasure here at Prudence Penitentiary to give lodging to the lost, the larcenous, and the lamentable. On any other day we could sit down for a cozy chat, contrive some contracts, acclimatize to these quaint comforts that your hands and hard work have helped to build… But this is not any other day...”
Prudence Penitentiary previously played host to two species of detained individuals:
The annual congregants of Killhouse who, by breach or break, via the Gauntlet or at the long end of a Lawdog’s gun - found their way to the expansive General Population wings of the only incarceratory force in the San Saba Territories. Each year they were, in The Indulgence, expunged of their sins and expelled into the Lonestar as new and freshly pressed as a churchgoers best - redeemed by Our Lady Tabitha St. Mercy, Warden of Killhouse.
Those truly reprehensible few who have earned a life sentence at Killhouse - for as long as their wretched durations might last. These dolorous and ill-starred maniacs who are the beating and fetid heart of Prudence’s purpose lie in the vaunted XXX Wing where they are not allowed to die - as for the Lifers of Killhouse - death means freedom.
On the anniversary of the 4th Indulgence, the disgraced Governor Amberdraught released a screaming cloud of death which poured from of the cracked and broken ground beneath new Bravado and spread with terrifying rapidity across the face of the Lonestar Wastes. Survivors raced towards Killhouse, the only promise within a hundred miles, of maintaining the unruptured state of their breathing organs, and bastion of the most dangerous criminals in the contiguous San Saba.
The Warden of Killhouse, Tabitha St. Mercy, entrenched in her own traditions and on the eve of the Indulgence, welcomed this influx of refugees inside with the caveat that they must be canonized as her Justices of Sin on this day of holy work. Hundreds earned their clean and unkilling air by honoring her praxis. Redeeming those who sought it - and damning to darkness the unyielding few who made her infernal jailhouse necessary.
“Legislate as my Law Dogs. Journey forth as my Justices. Render unto the penitent their pardons and the unrepentant their retribution. Make Pride your Protector and Wrath your Wisdom. Find guidance in the glory of Greed and Gluttony. May you be exalted in the Envy of your enemies. May your Lust for the Law lead you in your litigation so that when sunrise comes, you may sleep the serene somnolence of the sacrosanct Slothful. Journey forth to adjudicate, my Justices, and may the Seven eulogize your Jurisprudence.”
After the events of Justicalia, the Warden continued to appoint her Justices of Sin as necessary, and to send them throughout the Lonestar paired with Law Dogs under the command of Boss Wyatt as her representatives, to carry out the weighty vision of the San Saba Board’s Law and Order. No longer were Penitents remanded to the confinement of Killhouse, for that fate was reserved only for the most heinous and nefarious of Lifers. Instead, justice was served in the field, and the Warden herself was more frequently seen moving throughout the settlements of the San Saba speaking of the need to absolve sin through atonement, for while suffering begets suffering, suffering also begets Salvation.
During the Necrophage crisis, Grandfather Nichols, a mad doctor of the Nemesis cult, returned to Killhouse to infect and convert the Lifers into an army of disease-infused super soldiers. The halls of Killhouse were emptied of any remaining prisoners, the black clouds of his disease spread to every corner of their facility. He marched with his newfound army into Bravado to enact his revenge, but was stopped by the residents of Bravado and slain for good on the shores of Lake Bravo. While Tabitha St. Mercy escaped the second Killhouse Massacre with a few of her loyal bodyguards, her replacement Warden, Adam Moriarty, the Spider of Killhouse, did not.
Now, the halls of Killhouse are empty, inhabited only by ghosts and memories of the tortures that occurred within. Even still, a lingering suspicion and guilt hangs over the place, a reminder that even without prisoners that the fortress is filled with the weight of the crimes that occurred within its walls. Whispers once spoke of a Voice Below the prison, but even that has been silenced.
In the wake of the Necrophage, and of several key votes during the Stakeholder’s Meeting last year, the purpose of Prudence Penitentiary remains in question. The Justices of Sin have been freed of their charge to only serve the wishes of the Warden, and now are free to uphold the laws of the San Saba in a manner befitting their personal faiths. While the building remains an excellent fortress for use during the impeding wars in the San Saba, can it still remain relevant in the San Saba?
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Learn more about the Prudence Penitentiary Society Faction here.
Widow’s Peak is the ancestral home of the Lovelace family, an unassuming dynasty of Quietfolk who have lived, largely unnoticed, in the Blastlands around Old Bravo (and now New Bravado) for decades. Quietly, they have tended their land and kept their traditions. And it was only in the starving years that followed the Hiway War that this insular community looked beyond its high walls to the fading Lonestar and said, with kindness, “let us help”. The Lovelace’s heavy focus on community and family have led them, in the past, to tend towards isolationism. Since the Hiway War and the de-installation of the Barons however, the Lovelaces have slowly gained ground both literally and politically. Now, in terms of landmass, their holdings rival the Railroad Conglomerate’s.
The town itself consists of four primary public buildings, the Courthouse, the Silo, the Morgue and the Church. The remaining buildings are generational homes in perpendicular rows in a rough square around the town’s central building (the Courthouse). A soft slope leads you down into the Undercroft, a space intended to house the memories and tokens of familial remains of the Lovelace families, extended families, and those travelers who died as an unknown to the Lovelace homestead. Located outside the town Church’s courtyard, this sacred space is the culmination of all lives lived in and around Widow's Peak over the generations. Each space of remembrance has a lantern, or an item in honorarium of that individual.
All of the buildings face inward, in an old Lovelace tradition, and they’re all painted a strict eggshell white; painstakingly maintained. The Lovelaces are people of tradition and people of habit. And it is their strict adherence to tradition that has kept their community from the terrors of the Long Night and beyond for longer than living memory.
Once a year, from roughly mid-December to mid-February, the Lonestar sky goes completely dark. Crops die, livestock starve and the peoples of the San Saba bed down or freeze. Terrible threats stalk the Long Night - and only the warm hospitality of indoors and firelight stave off the terror and chill. No one knows why the Long Night comes. Only that the sun will one day fail to rise and in its place instead rise the Longwalkers, mysterious entities which stalk the Long Night like figures from myth and story, sometimes inspiring the creation of the same.
To beat back against the Long Night, and against the insidious depression that accompanies two sunless months, the celebration of Winter Lights is a Lovelace tradition that most of the San Saba honors. Feasts and firelight are the main components of any winter light festival - but the grandest and loveliest of them all include hundreds of tiny, softly scented candles that the Lovelace’s spend the latter months of the year preparing for that singular purpose.
The religion of the Lovelaces is as understated as their whitewashed houses and undyed linen chemises. They are a fundamentalist sect of the Nuclear Family, which informs their community-centric, sometimes isolationist, views. There is no single “father” in the Lovelace family - but dozens, and no single mother or sibling figure that maintains archetype. Instead, Lovelaces often identify strongly with a figure in the Nuclear Mythos and, throughout their lives, emulate their chosen figure in their daily lives, pontificating on role and purpose their whole lives through.
Can you find all the Longwalkers in this photo? Don’t worry. You can’t.
The subject of campfire stories and fever dreams, the Roving City is a tale as old as the Wastes, dating nearly back to the Fall - but exists in the memory between ancient history, the ageless days since, and the present. Armed only with these legends and snippets of a map won at the Dead Man’s Hand Tournament, Survivors began to delve West, looking for the lost passage between the San Saba Territories and the Burning Coast and it’s jewel, Hell Dorado. The location is still known only to the few that made the perilous journey to it’s resting place in the Dune Sea, but the artifacts and treasures flowing into the coffers of the Railroad Conglomerate are proof work is still underway to excavate the Lost City.
In the wild decades after the Fall, when the first generations of Strains walked the scorched earth in search of resources and renown, there were many more living people who struggled and strove in competition as the great populations who preceded the Fall had not yet died off to suit the new and leaner world.
Instead, there was chaos. Amidst that, a caravan of Rovers and their close cousins, the Diesel Jocks, banded together in numbers that would now be impossible to emulate, and constructed a raft between all their Rides, a kind of living and moving platform - and sailed into the unending desert that is now called the Dune Sea, to seek out resources and better land to cultivate.
But the intrepid band, of some two thousand, never found their new homeland. The Dune Sea is scorched and white and terrible - with only a few oases between the blast and death. Instead, they roved between these settlements and became a powerful and exclusive trade power. Their rickety platform of pick-me-ups, semis and RV’s became, in the space of a hundred years, an enormous and single-bodied municipality on tank treads individually the size of gymnasiums, a TITAN CITY.
The fuel source that powered Barogue, like much about the city’s history and culture, is a mystery. Some stories say that it was a great psion crystal, born from the brow of their first emperor, that powered the thing. Others, that they siphoned great quantities of crude oil from a wellspring of the stuff somewhere unmapped- a closely guarded secret that enabled their monopoly as a merchant kingdom.
But all stories about Barogue end the same way, with the exhaustion or loss of their fuel source somewhere deep in the Sea, a great and deadly exodus as thousands of its citizens struck out across the dunes in search of salvation they would, supposedly, never find, and eventually - the total abandonment of the largest single trade vessel to surely, ever exist.
Now, some hundred years later, Barogue is a cautionary tale told to children too ready to strike out on their own and to those who move too swiftly towards their goals - without the backing of their kin or clan.
Until now.
When Barogue was first found by Felicity Redfield and the map bearers two years ago, the city was buried under a massive sand dune, with an Elder Leviathan coiled around it like a nest. The first expedition fell through the opening at the top of the plexi-steel dome into the city, and the events of the first online event, “The Lost City” occurred inside. At the end of that episode, the survivors ascended a tall spire they named the Altar of the Scion Vossa to escape the city, fashioning a temporary crystal matrix to power the crystal plinths of the abandoned titan city. In the exodus they created a massive psionic blast that scattered the leviathans around the city. When the giant sandworms fled, they left in their wake a crater that exposed the majority of the moving city.
Over the last two years, the Railroad Conglomerate and other factions have worked tirelessly to uncover the bulk of the superstructure of Barogue, peeling back the layers of sand that hid the city’s secrets. In the shadow of the massive titan city is a small settlement fondly called New Barogue, the heart of the RRC operations at the Lost City. Settlement is perhaps too strong of a word, but the ramshackle array of tents and mining equipment at the excavation site is always changing as new work crews arrive from Essex and beyond.
The primary focus of the RRC is on scavenging the Lost City for usable salvage, scrap, and metals they can bend towards their ever-hungering needs of expanding the Oxline across the wastes. While most of the metal in Barogue is a very hard alloy similar to titanium, this crazy future metal is difficult to process with current technological levels. Instead, scavengers focus on panels, bolts, wiring, and anything they can tear from the superstructure to box up and ship out on the Oxline. Anything that can be melted down into a railroad tie is shipped back to Essex for processing, one more link in the chain of the Oxline network.
In the wake of this systematic dismantling are beleaguered archeologists from the RRC, the Grave Council and the San Saba Republic, uncovering new secrets of Barogue on a daily basis. While they contend with brutish laborers that trample on their archeological digs, the scientists and researchers of the expedition are slowly finding new ways to access areas within the city and struggling to understand the strange crystal psi-tech that once powered the mighty titan city.
The city is a treasure trove of archaeological secrets, psi-tech, and raw resources that will fuel RRC operations for decades to come. It is a deadly and mysterious site, but the risk of the city outweighs the rewards that await if the RRC can fully unlock the titan city’s many labyrinthine halls.
There is a saying among the work crews in New Barogue: “If the heat doesn’t kill you first, the desert, raiders, or leviathans will get you in the end.” Simply surviving in the heat of the Dune Sea is a task not for the faint hearted or unprepared. While the threat of zombies and the undead is fairly low in the desert (but not unheard of), the other denizens of the dunes are more than enough for the camp to handle.
There are several major dangers to contend with in Barogue:
The Heat - The temperatures in the desert can soar into the 120s at midday, so much of the work done at Barogue is done at night or in the cooler parts of the morning and evening. Even still, it’s hard to sleep drenched in sweat and there are no real modern amenities at the camp. Water must be carefully rationed, and only the access to regular shipments from Essex makes the camp even possible. The few wellsprings the RRC have found are jealously guarded and sold as rations to their workers. Heat exhaustion and heat stroke remain the number one killer of RRC teams, and daily safety briefs are given to the workers to keep the very real danger of the weather in mind.
Sandstorms - In addition to the heat, the very desert itself threatens to reclaim the Lost City if not constantly battled. Periodically, the superheated winds of the Dune Sea carry enough force to scour flesh from bone in blistering sandstorms that wash over the titan city. The only hope of survival when a coriolis sandstorm arrives, or “Aranae Ramleh” in the language of the Anneh Yaba desert tribes, is to take shelter within the superstructure of Barogue. The mighty metal barricades allow for the survivors to withstand the biting sands and melting temperatures, though they must contend with the threats within the city.
Firebrand Raiders - A primary danger of the camp are the various clans of Raiders that make the Dune Sea their own. The psionic Firebrand Raiders make their homes in the carcasses of Leviathans and seem to worship those of their kind that develop the spark of pyrokinesis that marks the leaders of the clan. They can be a threat, but they seem to be largely spooked by the Lost City for some reason. While some brave bands of Raiders periodically test the perimeter, the majority of the clan leaves the camp alone for the most part.
Resonant Raiders - The crystal-encrusted raiders first discovered two years ago remain a major threat from within Barogue. There are several hibernation chambers that have been uncovered within the belly of the titan city that contain thousands of chambers where the unfortunate were kept as living batteries in the Resonant Choir. Each of these victims is a potential Resonant, and early estimates suggest that there are still dozens of more chambers that are unopened. From these strange hives and nests, the Resonant Raiders strike out into the world to drink in fear, terror, and anguish as the psychic vampires they are. Anyone that braves the interior of Barogue must be ready to deal with the eerily quiet threats within. Some ghost stories suggest that there are other predators within Barogue, but the Resonants are the true masters of the dead city.
Leviathans - The true natural predators of the dune sea, these giant mutated critters resemble nothing more than massive sand worms with bifurcated jaws. Some stretch thousands of feet in length, and the most dangerous of their kind are called Elder Leviathans. These mighty beasts are nigh-unkillable, and are a force of nature that must be contended with rather than overcome. There are Leviathan nests that surround the perimeter of the Lost City, offering some protection from raiders and scavengers that would plunder the work camp. The RRC has provided maps that mark out most of the major known nests, but they remain a regular threat to continued operation of the Oxline and the settlement of New Barogue. The massive Leviathan that once protected the Lost City has been sighted in the desert nearby and it seems reluctant to return to the former nest, but it remains an ever-present threat in the minds of the laborers in the salvage camp.
The Oxkiller Alliance - The technophobic crusade of the new Oxkiller Alliance has threatened Barogue, strangely enough. The soldiers of the Antler Tribe and Oxkillers strike out into the desert to deal with the “profane monument of man’s hubris” that to them is the Lost City. In their traditions, the titan city is a sacred and forbidden territory that none must disturb, and the zealots are a constant threat to the Oxline and any that try to travel to the Lost City. The few Oxkillers that have been willing to talk with the workers of Barogue have mentioned that they believe the city is cursed, and the RRC will doom the world if they are allowed to continue.
Roughnecks - Not quite Raider, but not quite civilized, the Roughneck clan is a tribe of DJs, Tainted, and other scavengers that have loosely allied themselves into a roving band of misfits. From smoke billowing rides, they travel the Dune Sea as the nomads they are, seeking out travelers and raiders to salvage for scrap and resources. They are bloodthirsty killers, and care nothing for the law and order of the San Saba. They are known enemies of most San Saba DJ clans, including the Road Royals and the Sweetwaters.
Zombies - While zed are truly not much of a threat in the desert, the return of workers to New Barogue has awakened the Morgue within the city once more. Most zombies that threaten Barogue tend to be shamblers and recently departed workers, but a few desiccated corpses have been encountered from within the dunes itself, victims of the treacherous journey to Barogue.
Life is tough in Barogue, but the will of the Railroad Conglomerate is mightier. The wheels of capitalism keep churning amazing amounts of resources into leveraging the treasures of the Lost City of Barogue. No threat will truly slow the creeping expansion of the Oxline, and the continued successful salvage operations at Barogue are critical to the RRC’s plans of forging the future.
Getting to the Lost City is a feat in and of itself. The Dune Sea is an unforgiving environment and it makes simply reaching the city an endeavor few can afford or are willing to risk. There are only a few reliable ways to reach Barogue, chief among them the momentous accomplishment of using the rail lines. The act of laying a new rail line to the Lost City by the RRC over the last two years is a vital connection to the greater San Saba and beyond.
By Rail - The only truly secure way to travel to Barogue is via the Oxline. Even so, the travel is slow as a “sweeper engines” must travel in front of the mighty locomotives to clear the tracks of sand and debris that gathers daily across the stretch of railway that runs towards the Broken Coast. These smaller locomotives push giant plows through the sand, keeping the rail clear for the engines that follow in their wake. The Oxline travel is expensive, but offers a mostly smooth journey to the Lost City. However, your personal finances determine if you get to ride in luxury in an ice-cooled luxury car, or suffer with the laborers and less fortunate travelers in the blistering heat of the passenger cars. Many travelers don’t make the trip to travel solely to Barogue, instead opting for passage to Oasis and beyond as the Oxline continues its journey west.
By Land - The second most dangerous journey to Barogue is braving the treacherous sands and the many threats of the Dune Sea by land. Desert tribes of the Cali*co Caravan and the DJs of the Sweetwaters offer protected passage through the desert, following the trail set by the map-bearers and Felicity Redfield on their first journey to the Lost City. Few travel on foot, but even vehicles need to be specially outfitted to survive the journey across the inhospitable sands. Those that journey across the Dune Sea tend to use the only major landmarks that remain, starting from the oilfield camps of the RRC to the west of Essex before leaving major trade routes. Two major points remain to reference on the journey – one a strange black Monolith that rises from the desert, and the massive metal behemoth known as the Frigate, a known Roughneck stronghold within the Dune Sea. Many that attempt the journey westward never make it to Barogue, as they are killed and eaten by Firebrands, Roughnecks, or even massive Leviathans.
By Air - The most dangerous way to attempt the journey to Barogue is attempting the passage by airship. The bone-scouring sandstorms and superheated winds tend to combine for a lethal combination for those that try to travel by air. The heat causes the air bladder-technology of most airships to expand out of control and burst, and the winds make straight navigation impossible. Even in a ship rigged for the journey, travelers must make frequent stops to refit and repair, leaving them exposed to the same dangers of traveling by land, but with less ability to evade the threats. Only the truly foolhardy attempt the journey to Barogue by air, and it is most often some DJ with a deathwish that is trying to make a name for themselves on the most dangerous stretch of the Dune Sea imaginable.
No matter the route, those that are lucky enough to survive the journey to Barogue soon find that getting inside the superstructure of the titan city is not as easy as it might appear.
Most of the city lies dormant still, the feat of psi-tech achieved in the discovery of Barogue two years ago still out of reach of the residents of New Barogue outside. Heavy steel doors lock away whole swaths of the city, and the research crews have only accessed a small portion of Barogue. While there are many levels of Barogue, with at least a dozen being accessible in one form or another, the interior of the city still remains mostly a mystery. While the dome level can be technically accessed from above, the difficulty of airship operations in the area makes this an inefficient way of entering the city.
The primary means to pass into Barogue proper is to use a series of wide passages in the interior that run the length of the city, first called the Nave by Felicity’s expedition. The easiest access to the Nave is through the Excavation Site within the salvage operation of New Barogue. From there, it is possible to take various stairways and what might have been functional elevator shafts to ascend to the surface of the domed city. Strangely, no rope or pulley systems have been found within the strange vertical shafts, and brave explorers that have followed the elevator shafts to travel between the sublevels of the interior report that they have yet to see anything resembling an elevator car either.
The curiously preserved city within is covered in a massive dome of a strange translucent material that has the strength of metal, but the visibility of glass. Salvaged sheets of the material are prized throughout the San Saba, and it was this technology that let Felicity first construct the submersible advances she has pioneered in Bravado. While many of the buildings in the dome are theoretically accessible, most are still locked down with strange crystal locks and heavy shutters. Some brave explorers have climbed multi-level buildings and successfully found routes inside but without an easy way to open main entrances they are left scavenging only the things they can carry with them down a rope.
Most of the surface city is constructed of thick stone and alloy metal in the main superstructure, but the lower decks tend to consist of more common iron and steel. Many of the metal doors and portals in the city are constructed of an intensely dense metal similar to titanium, hardened material that modern technology can barely smelt, much less recreate. The architecture tends towards a gothic appearance, favoring excessive buttresses, gantries, archways, and elaborate carvings. Crystals are a common theme in the decorations of the city, and can be found within every fresco, frieze, or bas relief. Colorful tiles are also used throughout, creating vibrant splashes of color that seem at odds with the deathly silence of the city.
The city was once powered by an elaborate crystalline matrix system, with doors and buildings controlled through crystal plinths that were presumably activated with smaller crystals. Now, without a suitable “key”, many of the tunnels and chambers of the city are inaccessible unless you can find a way to force your way inside. Even with crystals found nearby, many of the plinths appear to be inactive, drained of whatever ambient power they once held. The plinths seem to react to certain resonant frequencies of psionic crystals, but the modern world has long lost the ability to manipulate psi-tech with this kind of skill.
Some scholars of Barogue have had success using imprint crystals, festering crystals, and variant psionic crystals to activate some areas of Barogue, but there is no apparent logic to what method works. Some doors seem to prefer a crystal containing a memory or imprint, while others have been successfully opened with Amaranthite, an inert form of psionic crystal. Each time a method works on accessing a chamber of the city, new secrets and writings are eagerly pursued within to help them continue to progress in their exploration of Barogue.
There are no true lights that still function within Barogue. Usually explorers must bring some means of torch or lantern with them into the city. During daylight it is easy enough to navigate through the dead city provided you stay out of the buildings. Some buildings have feeble chemical lights that provide a minimal level of illumination, but most existing light fixtures within the city are either untrustworthy or non functional. Below the surface, the hallways of the interior are pitch black and only occasionally lit by a bioluminescent fungus or chemical light. The darkened halls are prowled by predators that no longer need eyes to see, putting most survivors at a disadvantage, particularly at night.
Inside the city, the temperature seems to be considerably cooler, a welcome relief from the scorching heat outside. Despite reports to the contrary at the exodus of Barogue, not much sand actually seems to get into the city from the gaping hole in the dome, though logic suggests it should. Paper and printed material within seem more resilient than they should be, and books taken from the boundaries of the city have been known to crumble and age as if the ravages of time are suddenly restarted when they leave. As such, many of the writings of Barogue are instead copied or kept with the city while they are being researched.
Much of the current knowledge of Barogue comes from the absolute volume of written materials within. According to the legends, the Prince Undying stayed within the city at the end of Barogue and it is the most obvious truth of the stories of the Lost City. Recorded on any surface or parchment that can be written on is the strange scrawl of a familiar hand. From walls to tables, notes can be found in virtually every chamber of the city, though most of it is either illegible or the mad ravings of someone left alone in isolation for too long. Thus, any new progress into the city reveals a new trove of language and learning of the ancient city, as well as new insight into the Prince Undying.
There are three main areas of Barogue that can still be accessed, the Interior Level of tunnels and hives within the bulk of the city, the Surface Level of antiquated buildings and structures within the massive dome, and the Excavation Site of New Barogue, the area near the back right track-structure where RRC mining equipment has accessed the interior of the city.
There are several locations of note on the surface of Barogue. This area includes the domed portion of the titan city as well as the RRC camp outside.
New Barogue or Oxline Station 346 is the heart of the RRC operations at the titan city. The only truly permanent structure in the camp is the RRC headquarters and Oxline station. From here, materials salvaged from within Barogue are packed into crates and barrels, loaded onto the Ox and shipped back to Essex. Travelers and tourists that braved the journey often don’t stay long, as the inhospitable conditions make even surviving in the work camp miserable. Blistering heat and the threat of raiders is enough to make most get back on the train and continue their journey to settlements with more accommodations like Essex or Oasis. The camp swells in size with new tent structures erected for housing as the work crews increase in size. For the most part, the total population of the camp tends to hover around 50 souls, though if a foreman has set a particularly tough goal for scrap collection it might crest 100.
The Oxline Station is the only permanent building in New Barogue, constructed of the metal pylons scavenged from the crawler track structure of the excavation. It has a small diesel generator, making it the only building with some electricity, though it is reserved primarily for sending telegraph signals up and down the Oxline. A post office provides for some measure of connection with the outside San Saba and RRC mercenaries are kept close by to guard valuable cargo of metal and scrap that is temporarily housed in the loading bays outside. A metal mechanical crane has been constructed outside to aid in the unloading of storage containers from the Ox, though it tends to be down for maintenance more often than not, as the scouring sands of the desert break down its moving parts. A small vestibule has been set up for receiving tourists and travelers to Barogue, to provide some measure of meager hospitality for important guests and dignitaries that dare make the trip to Barogue.
The Excavation Site provides some means of protection from the brutal sandstorms and deadly Raiders of the Dune Sea to the residents of New Barogue, but only a few explorers risk delving into the city proper without sufficient backup and planning. It is the bustling heart of New Barogue, as workers struggle to salvage metal and scrap from the underbelly of the city, pulling apart carcasses of old vehicles and ancient wrecks that once formed the original mass of Barogue before it began to travel the sands. Several tunnels have been accessed within, offering the only secure method of entering the heart of Barogue proper. These tunnels must constantly be patrolled for fear of Resonant Raiders sneaking into the camp in the night, and there is always activity in this area. A small bit of somewhat arable farmland in the shadow of the city provides some produce and food to the settlement, drawing the majority of the water supplies from the shimmering well spring that makes life in New Barogue even possible.
The Shimmering Sands is the real watering hole in Barogue, a tent bar pitched in the sand, lit by the shimmering sand glass. Using a massive discarded wheel from the ruined tracks of Barogue as a shelter from the worst of the sandstorms, the Shimmering Sands is the only truly social gathering site in New Barogue. With the crushing heat of the desert, water has become the drink of choice for most residents, but they still serve the usual mix of spirits, swill, and hooch to folks that really don’t have much choice otherwise. A true testament to the necessity of survival and capitalism, even the RRC can’t deny the importance of alcohol towards keeping their labor force from rioting.
The largest structure in the salvage camp is known as the Efflorescence Sanctuary, a large tent filled with the remnants of a crumbling temple within. According to the faithful that maintain the shrine, each stone was painstakingly carried from its home with the innermost chamber of the crumbling temple in the center of New Barogue. This new communal shrine is a reimagined version of that temple, lovingly maintained by a group of Final Knight Deacons. When workers are not frequenting the Shimmering Sands bar, many of the residents of New Barogue spend their last few hours within, deep in conversation or simply seeking the company of fellow survivors.
The Engine Block, a shrine to the massive powerful engines of Barogue serves as a destination for traveling DJs and vehicle enthusiasts alike. While the massive cowling and manifolds are formed of the same strange impenetrable alloy as the city, the arcane structures of the engines seem to defy conventional logic for modern combustion engines known to survivors. While it appears that some of the engines could be powered by liquid fuel, there has been some retrofitting completed on the engines if the techno savants are to be believed. There are long dormant cylinders, pistons, and dusty cooling systems that continue to amaze and confound those that make the climb to the top of the superstructure. At the heart of the engines seems to be a large crystalline lattice structure, which researchers suppose is some sort of transformer or capacitor to translate psionic energy into chemical energy. If the city could be powered, it’s possible that the engines are still functional, as they appear to be well shielded from the ravages of heat and sand. The fabled engines of Barogue remain a mystery, though major advances in psi-tech might reveal more as the years pass. For now, the RRC has ruled the area off limits to salvage teams, as Felicity dreams of one day potentially restoring motion to the Roving City.
The following legends exist about the Lost City of Barogue. Which are true and which are merely myth lies on you, survivor, to decide.
The story of the Scion Vossa begins deep in the bones of the earth, where the First Emperor bestowed the denizens of Barogue with power given physical form. This resulted in a crystal so massive it took a thousand souls to wretch it from the ground and incorporate it into the superstructure of The Roving City. Tapping into the crystal’s power allowed for miraculous feats of Psi-tech engineering, and the individuals with whose inventions led the city to the most glory became the dynasty that ruled Barogue.
Over the decades the city became more and more reliant on the crystal, eventually converting their engines, defenses, and even irrigation to run off of its power. All ran well until the day of The Great Betrayal. At the behest of demons, Sister Mammon infiltrated the city, slaughtered the dynasties final generation, and stole away the Scion Vossa. Most people in the city remained clueless to the great conflict that had just occurred till the city ground to a screeching halt, their water stopped flowing, and leviathans approached unimpeded by defenses.
The only royal to survive the slaughter, The Prince Undying, did everything he could to operate the city without the Scion Vossa. He funneled all of his psionic energy through generations of gilded circuitry, but it was nowhere close to enough and the Prince had to watch helplessly as his subjects were chased out of the city by terrible beasts. When the next dawn broke, the Prince descended into the city and was forced to confront the reality of his abandoned kingdom.
Decades would pass, and in his isolation the prince would dive into deep study of all the knowledge contained in Barogue. He had hoped that somewhere in the vacant streets the secret to resurrect the city would reveal itself. Eventually he came to realize that the foundation of the city had been too integrated with the Scion Vossa; The city had bet all of their chips on the crystal, and now it could never be undone. With no other options, the prince sealed away his research and left the city in search of the one thing that could bring power back to his home. Legend has it that he still roams to this day, searching tirelessly for the stolen Scion Vossa.
The City of Barogue was the collective dream of our ancestors to seek life somewhere new, somewhere better. In many ways, the Roving City became just that to its inhabitants. The collection of caravans precariously combined together and built atop of was an ever-moving paradise. Even in its prime, Barogue was already a place of legend.
Such a thing seemed nigh impossible to keep moving with the traces of fuel salvaged from the ancestors before our ancestors. What sustained the city was the Wellspring Eternal, a fuel source purer than oxblood proprietors could ever hope their product to be. Its location was a closely guarded secret, for should anyone else have learned of its location, Baroque would not have been able to prosper as it did.
And it did. That is, until Sister Mammon infiltrated the city. Unlike many others who flocked to the city, she saw it as a place of perpetual stagnation. Believing the world would not be able to move on under its shadow, she sought to undo the great city. So she stole the one thing that could cripple such a great city, the secret location of the Wellspring Eternal. She dispersed the information to the masses, and everyone flocked to get their hands on the legendary fuel that powered the Roving City. Before long, the Wellspring Eternal dried up.
For the first time in ages, Barogue faced a fuel crisis like nothing else the city had seen before. Its people were scared, and the merchants that once flocked to the city for trade and respite found better places. With little trade coming in, the people soon began to starve in the unforgiving Dune Sea. The Prince, seeking to save his populace, began looking for a new fuel source that would keep gargantuan city afloat.
His search, however, would be in vain. The city was in its death throes. Its people died of hunger and thirst alike, leaving the Prince the sole inhabitant of an empty kingdom. The Prince left the city behind, eventually, to spread the tale of the city’s downfall as a caution. Too many people in one place leads to too many mouths to feed. Towns must be kept small and supplies carefully rationed to prevent its people from starving, and to prevent unwanted attention from those like The Great Betrayer to prevent sabotage.
While many legends of ancient Barogue have been told, few focus on a single uncontested fact: Barogue was a menace and a threat to its enemies. At least 200 years ago but perhaps more, before the blastlands became the Dune Sea, the city of Barogue moved with impunity around the wastes. While it is known that the Roving City was mounted on giant wheels or treads that moved it around, the fleets of scavenger vehicles that roved out from the city were a true threat to settlements in the Lone Star in ways that raider or zed could never hope to achieve. You see, the Roving City was powered by the Resonance Choir - a combination of psions working in concert, pouring their effort and will into the singular task of charging the psi-tech that empowered Barogue. And the largest source of those psions to power the engines? Captured psions, turned into living batteries against their will. Their fleets captured any that showed the spark of psionics, and brought them to serve Barogue.
Chief of its enemies was the great state of Mammon, led by the Witch Queen. The Witch Queen was a powerful psion and worshipper of the Damned 33, and realized the nascent threat the Roving City represented to the wastes. She realized that the only way to threaten the powerful moving fortress that was Barogue was to corrupt it from the inside. It started innocently enough - she introduced an addictive new serum, capable of “super-charging” any psion into a mighty mental juggernaut… for a time. A wealthy city like Barogue didn’t care about the duration, as it was cheap enough to rotate out psions from their stable of “batteries”. For a time, life was good as newly powerful psions weaved the song of energy that moved the Roving City. But, the poison pill that was the Witch Queen’s creation was insidious - each time the psion took the drug, it sapped a bit of their life away and hastened their demise as they lost the ability to channel psionic force at all. Soon enough the plague of the drug addiction melted away the Choir bit by bit, until Barogue could no longer rely on their choir of psions to power the city.
Faced with dwindling reserves of survivors to scream their wordless energies into the hungry void of Barogue’s engines, they did the unthinkable. Instead of trying to find a new or different source of power, they simply began taking the undesirables and the unlucky from their own population and giving them the drug to power their unholy crystal tech. Before too long, it was any that opposed the collection - even the scions of the elite, or any that opposed the Prince Undying, the leader of Barogue. Like short-wicked candles, their own people were cast as new victims into the meatgrinder of Barogue’s unceasing demands for power. While the drug did not work as strong on non-psions, the feeble spark it lit was enough - provided they poured enough bodies into the Choir. Few can say if it was this cannibalism of their own people that caused the Exodus, or it was simply their people fleeing certain death at the hands of the elite of Barogue. But the population dwindled, scattered to the wastes, leaving only one man - the Prince Undying, to solve the eternal riddle of Barogue. How can a city form a choir without the harmonies and melodies of the psions within? The Prince sat with the decaying corpse of Barogue for generations, seeking an answer that could not be found.
As the wastelands turned to dust, and the hills and valleys of the scorched land to dunes, the city of Barogue sat as a reminder of the terrible cost of the psionic technology they sought to master. Psi-tech always has a cost and even if you think the price is easy at first, it is never sustainable. When you view people as property or things to be consumed like living batteries, you can never outrun that corruption. Eventually, even the Prince Undying abandoned the dead city, proving the truth that the Witch Queen of Mammon knew all along - when you rely on the power of others to survive, you don’t recognize your own powerlessness until it is too late. Seize power from those not worthy of it, but most of all realize that the true strength is in a community that does not feed on itself or a community that relies on cheap tricks to stay off the decay. Barogue was dying long before it fell, and once the wound grew septic it was their end. Barogue was doomed to fail for its sins, and many are glad that it suffered the ignoble fate of a quiet and soundless death, alone and unmoving in the sands.
Armed only with these legends and snippets of a map won at the Dead Man’s Hand Tournament, Survivors began to delve West, looking for the lost passage between the San Saba Territories and the Burning Coast and it’s jewel, Hell Dorado. You can learn more about what they discovered there in The Lost City.
Far to the north, on the edges of the San Saba Territories that border the lands of the Sequoia Wastes, lies the new home to the displaced peoples of the OXKILLER ALLIANCE. While the two settlements of Star City and Fort Worthless are prominent parts of the territory, they have not been relevant to the success of the San Saba since before the Hiway War. Now, what resources remain go to fuel the war engines of the Oxkillers as they pursue a war against the San Saba Board and the peoples of the Lone Star.
However, no matter the tactical value of the provinces, the primary offense to the San Saba Board has been the blockade of the mighty Oxline running north into the Verdigrift Gardens and the Overgrowth of the Undying. Trade has slowed to a halt through the new Oxkiller Territory, as roving bands of tribesmen claim tribute and tax from any travel through their region. The affront to the power of the San Saba Board has not gone unnoticed, and a war is brewing in the Lone Star.
The Oxkiller Alliance is comprised of the former Antler Tribe and Oxkiller Tribe, two martial Natural One and Tainted clans that followed the former Tribes Disparate two years ago. With the death of Queen Jasper, and the formation of the San Saba Republic, the Oxkillers abandoned their former allies in disgust at the changes they saw as weak.
Rumors suggest the former leaders of the Oxkiller Alliance, Prince Shale and Lord Hush, died in a power struggle last year. Now, a new figure has emerged from the warring tribes to unite them with a singular purpose and passion — the Breaker of Crowns. Under her guidance, the Oxkiller Alliance has become a new and present danger to any that live in the Lone Star.
The War of Antlers is coming to the San Saba…
