New Vance City

Hidden deep within the ramshackle warrens of The Devil’s Den, the Tech-Scrap Forge is the brutal heart of Raider ingenuity and desperation. Amidst the chaos of scavenged neon scraps and fried circuit boards, ragged raiders wield arc welders and hammer scrap with frantic precision. Here, broken solar cells are stripped for precious silicon, energy weapons are jury-rigged from salvaged parts, and crude cybernetic mods are grafted to flesh with little regard for sterility. The Forge is both armory and workshop—its output often the difference between life and death in a world where ammo is scarce and threats are relentless. Every battered workbench groans under heaps of half-finished contraptions and stolen tech, while crude schematics—drawn in oil-stained ink—hang alongside faded, hacked holo-projections of forgotten weapon blueprints. The Raiders' chaotic creativity breathes life into otherwise useless junk, forging weapons and gear that hum with flickering power.

The Tech-Scrap Forge sprawls through a cavernous tunnel hollowed from cracked concrete and reinforced with salvaged steel plates. Flickering neon strips and patched LED clusters cast jittery, sickly light over cluttered workbenches cluttered with tools, wires, and circuit fragments. Thick cables snake along the floor, pulsing with unstable power drawn from jury-rigged generators sputtering in the shadows. Walls are scrawled with graffiti—tactical symbols, gang tags, and hastily sketched weapon diagrams—layered beneath grime and rust. Scattered arc welders spit sparks that illuminate the gaunt faces of raiders clad in patchwork armor and scorched goggles, their hands steady despite the chaos. Piles of scrapped solar panels, burnt-out energy cells, and twisted metal glisten with oil and sweat, while the air hums with the sharp crackle of electrical arcs and the clang of improvised metalwork. The atmosphere smells of burnt plastic, hot iron, and the metallic tang of desperation.