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Welcome to Atomic Highway

17:34, 2nd March 2024 (GMT+0)

Atomic Highway

Several generations have passed since Doomsday when the
Earth was wracked by the Final War. Our forebears told of
the devastation, of the great pillars of ash and flame, of the
clouds of manmade pestilence, of the waves of strangely scented death.
All the marvels our ancestors had striven to create, their towering edifices
of steel, concrete and glass, the lore stored on their webs of computers,
were torn asunder, rent and lost. Many died, man and beast alike, and
the Earth was tortured and twisted. Many more died during the Years of
Dark Ice that followed.

  As heat and light returned, those few survivors began to establish
themselves anew, communities began to slowly grow again, both to
protect and nurture or to seize and pillage, for both are paths of survival.
Nations were gone, survival was paramount, trade was scant. What
useful implements of the Before Time that could be safely salvaged were
quickly hoarded and cherished, for future generations, for survival, for
protection and predation.

  The damage and poisoning of the Earth was reflected in the warped
flesh of animal and man. Many were born with hideous mutations to
the horror of their parents. Most died, others were cast out, only a few
were nurtured or endured. Over time, the number of mutants has slowly
increased, reluctantly accepted in some places, still reviled in others.

  Fortified settlements are scattered across and beneath the blasted
landscape now, linked by the battered roads our ancestors made. Road
warriors in their armed and armored vehicles guard these places of
civilization, escort the mighty trade rigs that ferry goods and people
between those settlements that trade. Raiders assault these in their crude
vehicles, steal and slaughter, constantly test the defenses of the towns
and homesteads nearby. The weak, the foolish, quickly fall to their

  This is a time of hardship, of rebuilding, a time when scavengers
pick at the scraps of the Before Time, a time when might too often
means right. But it is also a time of hope, for Humanity has endured
and the Earth begins to very slowly mend. The future will again be
wrought by our hands, for good or ill.

- Daniel Turing, Lore Keeper of Redtown