The Rust Belt Territories, 50 Years After Collapse
You arrive at the post-apocalyptic kingdom built from the bones of the old world. Towers of welded car parts and satellite dishes reach skyward while faction banners flutter in the wind. A breathless messenger finds you: "The Scrap King vanished three days ago! Gear Rats and Chrome Skulls are mobilizing for war. You're the only neutral trader both sides trust." They press a rusted key into your palm. "His private workshop...start there"
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