New Vance City is a post-collapse RPG where survival means customizing everything—classes, skills, races, and gear are all unique. Set in 2070, a year after the world cracked and the infected rose, this cyberpunk dystopia pulses with story-rich factions, brutal politics, and unforgettable characters. Forge your path in a smog-choked ruin where the line between savior and syndicate blurs with every shot fired. Fight zombies, raiders, and mutated creatures and test your survival in New Vance City!
Played | 5543 times |
Cloned | 199 times |
Created | 124 days ago |
Last Updated | 3 days ago |
Visibility | Public |
Coordinates | (317, -614) |
The Toxic Digs are a sprawling, hazardous maze of chemical decay nestled deep within the Raider’s Camp outskirts of New Vance City. Once part of an old industrial waste processing zone, the area now reeks of volatile sludge and poisoned air, toxic pools reflecting the flicker of scavenged neon and flame-lit fires. Raiders have twisted the ruins into a brutal fortress of survival, jury-rigging crude distillation rigs, chemical refineries, and makeshift weapons workshops amid the corroded pipes and collapsed tanks. The air is a noxious cocktail of burning plastics, industrial solvents, and sickly sweet toxins, sharp enough to blister exposed skin. It’s a place where only the most desperate or crazed dare tread, armed with gas masks or improvised respirators. The Digs serve as a vital stronghold for the raiders, a grim factory of brutal weaponry and chemical concoctions that fuel their relentless raids. The Perimeter Watch avoids this zone except in forceful raids.
Visually, the Toxic Digs are a twisted collage of rusted metal and cracked concrete, layered in slick puddles of iridescent sludge that catch the erratic glow of neon and flickering propane torches. Jagged steel girders arch over crumbling concrete platforms, festooned with hanging wires sparking from scavenged generators. Thick plumes of acrid smoke curl upwards, blurring the dim horizon and tinting the sky in sickly greens and yellows. Patches of phosphorescent algae cling to leaking pipes, casting an eerie bioluminescent light amid piles of crushed barrels and broken machinery. Scavenged warning signs hang crookedly, their faded symbols warning of biohazards long forgotten. Shattered glass and twisted scrap litter the ground alongside broken gas masks and cracked respirators. Raiders, clad in patchwork armor stained with chemical burns, navigate the maze-like pathways with practiced agility. The whole place feels unstable, a fragile chemical tinderbox perpetually on the edge.