New Vance City

Tucked deep in the cracked concrete bowels of Skullcrack Hold, the Forge of Fury roars like a desperate heartbeat amid the ruins. This brutal armory is where the Raiders transform salvaged junk and scorched metal into weapons of survival and slaughter. The fire here isn’t fueled by fuel alone but by sweat, fear, and raw desperation. The ragged crew of enslaved mechanics—captured scavvers and unwilling engineers—hammer, weld, and cobble together spiked clubs, jagged blades, and jury-rigged explosives. Makeshift furnaces, cobbled from old industrial scrap and torched engines, spit orange-hot flames into smoke-choked air. The constant clang of metal on metal, punctuated by curses and threats, echoes endlessly beneath a patchwork of rusted girders and cracked skulls nailed as grim warnings. Here, the Raiders' brutal war machine is forged—crude, deadly, and merciless, a reflection of the chaos they embody.

The Forge of Fury is a cavernous, claustrophobic chamber carved from the shattered remains of a bombed-out parking garage, its ceilings a twisted tangle of rebar and warped steel plates. Flickering propane torches and scavenged welding arcs cast wild shadows that leap and dance across walls blackened by soot and streaked with rust. The air hangs thick and choking, heavy with the acrid sting of molten metal, burnt plastic, and unwashed bodies. Rattling conveyor belts sputter uselessly nearby, overrun by scraps and shards of broken machinery. Scavenged workbenches—piles of oil-stained cloth, battered anvils, and cracked toolsets—are surrounded by hunched, grim-faced workers wearing mismatched armor patched from corrugated metal and scavenged gear. Sparks fly as hammers meet steel, and pools of slag glow like hellish embers on the cracked concrete floor. Bone trophies and chipped skull fragments hang from chains, reminding all who enter that this place is both a forge and a prison.