New Vance City

Nestled deep in the chaotic maze of Skullcrack Hold, the Scrap-Stack Market is the gritty heart of the Raider economy—a sprawling bazaar forged from salvaged steel, rusted machinery, and shattered dreams. It’s a volatile gathering point where desperate raiders and shadowy traders barter for anything that might buy another day: tainted water, jury-rigged weapons, scavenged solar cells, and illicit cybernetic enhancements cobbled together in back alleys. The market hums with the electric tension of barely contained violence, as deals are made with grim smiles and sharper knives. Here, information flows as freely as bullets, and alliances shift like sand. The air is thick with the sour stench of burnt oil, sweat, and stale synth-ale, underscored by the low thrum of hidden generators powering black-market tech. For the Raiders, the Scrap-Stack Market isn’t just commerce—it’s survival, power, and the raw pulse of a fractured world refusing to die.

The Scrap-Stack Market sprawls beneath jagged towers of twisted metal, salvaged girders, and crumpled vehicle carcasses welded into unstable scaffolds that creak under the weight of tarps patched from neon-lit plastic sheets and rusted chain-link. Strings of flickering neon—often scavenged from dead city districts—cast erratic pools of sickly green, blood red, and electric blue light over narrow aisles choked with piles of scrap, scattered cables, and broken tech. Makeshift stalls range from haphazard crates and oil drum tables to scavenged armored vehicle doors propped on bent rebar, festooned with flickering holo-ads and hastily scrawled spray-painted signs in jagged letters. Raiders in patchwork armor and cybernetic grafts barge past shadowy figures clad in torn cloaks and scavenged hazmat gear, their voices rising in a cacophony of insults, offers, and veiled threats. Amid the clutter, stray dogs and scavver kids dart through heaps of ruined machinery.