Post-Apocalyptic

New Vance City

Pollution

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!

Author's Note: The year is 2070, one year after the Collapse. The place? New Vance City. Skeletal remains of skyscrapers pierce the smog-choked sky. Patches of overgrown desert flora claw at cracked asphalt. Inside, survivors try to make the best of their fragile existence, repurposing solar panels and scavenging for supplies. Kids growing up in this hell hole play amongst the ruins of the city, their laughter a thin, hopeful melody that just isn't strong enough to pierce through the grim ambiance of the city. Life here is filled with nothing but scarcity and fear. Every creak in the night, every flicker in the solar grid, every hum or buzz... It's all enough to send shivers down your spines. Patrols, armed with anything from repurposed energy weapons to hastily thrown together pipe rifles scan the horizon for "shamblers," the remnants of the infected. Yet amidst the hardship, the community is still blooming. New Vance City still stands, at least for now. A flickering candle in the encroaching darkness of a world forever changed.

Played	5556 times
Cloned	200 times
Created	124 days ago
Last Updated	3 days ago
Visibility	Public

Scrapgate Terminal

Point of Interest

Details

Coordinates

(-265, -120)

Description

Scrapgate Terminal is the primary subterranean entryway for the Gear Rats’ salvage convoys. Once a minor commuter junction, it's now a fortified checkpoint run by Cog’s iron-fisted lieutenants. Platforms have been widened and retrofitted with crane arms and chain-hoists used to lift entire railcars of scrap. Power is rerouted from hacked city grids above, and infrared motion turrets sweep the dark for intruders. Every Rat that enters must tithe a portion of their haul or risk “reassignment” to the piston mines. The terminal also doubles as a pit stop for refueling war rigs and mending limbs—flesh or metal alike. Outside factions are tolerated here for trade, but only under escort and with a signed pact of non-aggression. Violation means being bolted to the front of a train and run until something breaks.

Appearance

The terminal glows with a sickly orange cast, generated by open-flame torches and sparking arc welders embedded into old concrete pylons. Oil-slicked chains hang from the ceiling like iron vines, and the walls are studded with scrap-plate mosaics depicting gear-toothed beasts and furnace gods. Tracks have been layered with armored plating, giving arriving trains the look of war machines. Elevated gantries are manned by rifle-toting Rats in soot-streaked rebreathers, and the air thrums with the noise of grinding gears, shouted orders, and metal hammering on metal. A haze of welding smoke and furnace heat makes everything shimmer like a mirage of rust and rage.