Prompt: You are ${character.name}! you wandered in the Settlement of ‘The Emerald City' seeking to escape the open hostility of the wasteland and take comfort in ‘civilisation'. The Emerald City is border drawn by the line of the Cascade Mountain range. On the west coast of the former United States, stranded alone with hundreds of miles of uninhabited wasteland in every direction, lies the remains of Seattle. In the decaying husk of what was once called the Emerald City, rival factions vie for power, some trying to defend the city's inhabitants, while others want to rule or enslave them. These same factions will desire to use you to their own ends as a free agent, in order to promote their agendas, to either preserve or destroy the Emerald City. All the while something sinister moves in the background allowing this decaying husk of post war Seattle to economically thrive. Humanity showcased its ultimate power in one amazing display that ended the world as Cold War tensions came to ahead and MAD was no more. As the clock ran out for mankind, In Seattle lay a different story. Seattle clawed its way out of a beginning as a lumber town, rose to a powerhouse famous for gold, and built a thriving technology industry. With skyscrapers that would stand to the end of time and an economy that never faltered, Seattle was a beacon shining into the future, a diamond in the rough, an Emerald City. But despite persistent growth in the City of Goodwill, well, a war between the city's various factions is slowly building towards a destructive climax.

The sky was in a downpour. To those familiar with the Emerald City, this was nothing unusual. Before the world ended Seattle's sky typically found itself blotted out by clouds, and the city left in a blue overcast. Now, the sun set the city awash in a golden glow of the wasteland heat despite the beatdown of the rain. However it was not visible throughout the industrial district of the city as it was blocked by thick, green clouds and hot steam at the back of the city. The lone sun hung high in the sky, signalling the hour of the day as noon. The patter of the rain dulled any noise or bustle that might be offered on a day like this. There never was much traffic between settlements and most who patrolled the city streets belonged to a military of some sort. But the soft sound of rain landing on pavement, echoing up and down streets and bouncing off of buildings, highlighted just how empty this city was from the outside. Almost isolated. Too pristine and untouched. This was besides the busting makeshift caravan marketplace that lingered unrestricted just outside the gateway. Lingering but never close. The echoes raced down the streets-- an acute sound, like the mournful sigh of a dying man-- and between the skyscrapers of the inner city, out to the more residential distracts, where Pioneer Square and Queen Anne's Hill lay.

In the woodlands beyond Seattle, the rain wasn't an eerie reminder of how the vast majority of the earth was empty, but a nuisance that created mud and obscured one's vision as a fog dropped into the valleys on the slopes of the Cascades. Seattle was chilly, and this autumn was chillier than most. It foretold of a frigid, unforgiving winter to come. Aside from the rain it was absent of sound. The Emerald City lay quiet. But not for long.

In Queen Anne's Hill, the neighborhood sat vacant and bright aside from one house at the far end of a cul-de-sac, where light shown out of the windows, as if to welcome visitors.

On the edge of the Puget Sound, the machines that inhabit Fort Lawton quickly set to work, as if something had caught their attention. It’s factories had all the manpower of an industrial revolution at it’s hands. Cogs and wheels straining together, a bell and a loud whistle of steam are just some of the sounds echoing from this district. The mass of factories here are mainly responsible for the bursts of hot steam from it’s heavy machinery and the great green glow of fog surrounding the back the city, a skeptic may question the products made to create such a fog though it really does match with the reflecting green light of the Skyscrapers in the central city area.

The soldiers of the Crimson King on Mercer Island assume formations, practicing for the coming war with the Enforcers. And on the road from Kingsgate, a man lay, a bullet wound in his back, bleeding his life out into the mud. Kingsgate was often a site of war between the factions angling for control. It was a small residential area and one of the lesser appealing sites of the city. It was more realer and suited to the current landscape of a nuclear fallout than that of a future utopia. He didn't know he was dead until the last breath left his lips. He was one of thousands. He wouldn’t be the last.

It took all of your willpower to keep going, even though you knew what was coming next. You come to a halt on the hilltop, overlooking the city in the distance. The rain drums hard on your shoulders, the mud thick beneath your shoes. The welcoming sun had gone and the sky was now overcast. You draw in the a breath of damp, cold air, and pull your jacket closed tight. It's a miserable day in Seattle, but you didn't come here to sight see. The dead waited for you down in the slums of the city, the outskirts, the ruins and rubble of old skyscraper after skyscraper, fallen to ruins now, the works of man. They had been castaway as failures, almost crumbled here, discarded away from the gates. You came to escape the hostility of the rest of the world, and live in the civilzation it offers. to seek your fortune. The rest of the world has been looted ten times over. There may be riches for the taking here. From a distance, Seattle is towering, beautiful as the green light reflects off the windows of it's skyscrapers. The Space Needle stands above it all like some kind of modern Olympus, emitting an air of authority, whilst simultaneously giving the Emerald City's status as a great nation a sense of legitmacy. The Emerald City was deserving of it's namesake, you think. You can't help but feel a sense of awe, standing on this hill now. But you're not here for sightseeing. You turn, and descend the hill. The road's just as empty on your way back.You enter the city it's streets bustling with life and population. The city itself exudes wealth resembling a pre-apocalypse New York except remarkably clean and eminating green light from it's skyscrapers. You’ve never seen a city this clean ever even in post war cities it’s eerily sinister in a sense. young men and women roam the sidewalks in future fashion. Pre-ruination this city would've been a shining beacon of quality even back then. Your mind questions the flow of wealth surrounding the city, none of the other settlements are like this with their shelter ruined homes still reeling from the aftermath of apocalyptic nuclear fallout but here it's different why? Who is making all the money to rebuild this city anew? You hope to find out. You walk into a bustling marketplace just shy of the gates to The Emerald City. This area is filled to the brim with people of all ages and sizes, races even ghouls selling items, souvenirs and clothing. You chuckle, you find it ironic but a bit disheartening that a ghoul sells souvenirs you know that most big settlements don’t allow them inside, out of fear of radiation spreading from their peeling ashy skin. You can see the rough barrier of the city and the guards keeping a watchful eye on the rabble diligently interrogating each person on their purpose for travel. You can see the sleek monorail around the city and it’s pristine skyscrapers past the wall. It’s visage is too good to be true. Then you notice a fortune teller tent among the stalls. You can either stay and explore here or venture forth into the city after the guard’s interrogation.