Anonymous
(ID: 86+HqKCp)
10/23/2025, 1:09:23 AM
No.6321878
Rolled 15 (1d100)
>>6321869
You are Cletus Wesson Smith. The last attack wiped out the rest of your family except for yourself. It was bad one. Wrecked the entire homestead except for a single cabin and a few pieces of gear you were able to salvage. You just got done burying what remained of your family in the bitter cold snow and shrouded fog. Oh how you miss the trees and sun. Instead you get giant mushrooms and radioactive snow, ash, and that fucking fog. Hard to believe it's been twenty years since the bombs dropped. You were just a boy then. Forced to watch the initial wave of die off from the rads and desperation. Wasn't much food back then. All the water was frozen, radioactive, and encased in ash. Probably why you ended up a drunk, to be honest. Not much else to drink back then. A miracle you still have the brains you got.
Later it all changed. Mushrooms started sprouting everywhere and they just kept on getting bigger and bigger. The few wildlife too...at first there were plenty of bad mutations that helped keep them down but those mutations were swiftly bred out and than the abominations showed up. Those zombie things...not enough rads or population here to be much of a concern. Too bad those abominations didn't care and they had more than enough food. The wildlife while plentiful just keep on getting ever more dangerous and mutated. Your family tried to hold out. Like many others...but how many are even left still alive?
How many still kept their humanity? Those questions have been haunting you every night for years. Your family was one of the 'luckier' ones. Not many...changed. They were more prone to dying instead.
Now though, in this ruined homestead you're the only one left with nothing but a sack of supplies, a few boxes of ammo, your trusted double barrel shotgun, and a varmint rifle(.38). You know of few settlements that are fortified enough to hold out. You could also visit those who DID change...and haven't gone full abomination yet. At least they don't shoot you on sight and love your moonshine. There is also that former national guard armory or prison that got overrun by bandits. Odd thing that I rarely ever see a fucking raider around. No doubt too busy trying not to get eaten by the wildlife like everyone else. There is also that old bunker your crazy uncle set up before he up and vanished. He may have been crazier than a madhatter with a coot but he WAS right after all, but you haven't been that way in a LONG time...and he was far too interested and close to those restricted areas that the Feds set up.
What do?
>Try to fix the homestead
>Head to a settlement
>Visit the raider camps
>Say high to your 'neighbors'
>Head to your uncles secret bunker
>Other?
>>6321869
You are Cletus Wesson Smith. The last attack wiped out the rest of your family except for yourself. It was bad one. Wrecked the entire homestead except for a single cabin and a few pieces of gear you were able to salvage. You just got done burying what remained of your family in the bitter cold snow and shrouded fog. Oh how you miss the trees and sun. Instead you get giant mushrooms and radioactive snow, ash, and that fucking fog. Hard to believe it's been twenty years since the bombs dropped. You were just a boy then. Forced to watch the initial wave of die off from the rads and desperation. Wasn't much food back then. All the water was frozen, radioactive, and encased in ash. Probably why you ended up a drunk, to be honest. Not much else to drink back then. A miracle you still have the brains you got.
Later it all changed. Mushrooms started sprouting everywhere and they just kept on getting bigger and bigger. The few wildlife too...at first there were plenty of bad mutations that helped keep them down but those mutations were swiftly bred out and than the abominations showed up. Those zombie things...not enough rads or population here to be much of a concern. Too bad those abominations didn't care and they had more than enough food. The wildlife while plentiful just keep on getting ever more dangerous and mutated. Your family tried to hold out. Like many others...but how many are even left still alive?
How many still kept their humanity? Those questions have been haunting you every night for years. Your family was one of the 'luckier' ones. Not many...changed. They were more prone to dying instead.
Now though, in this ruined homestead you're the only one left with nothing but a sack of supplies, a few boxes of ammo, your trusted double barrel shotgun, and a varmint rifle(.38). You know of few settlements that are fortified enough to hold out. You could also visit those who DID change...and haven't gone full abomination yet. At least they don't shoot you on sight and love your moonshine. There is also that former national guard armory or prison that got overrun by bandits. Odd thing that I rarely ever see a fucking raider around. No doubt too busy trying not to get eaten by the wildlife like everyone else. There is also that old bunker your crazy uncle set up before he up and vanished. He may have been crazier than a madhatter with a coot but he WAS right after all, but you haven't been that way in a LONG time...and he was far too interested and close to those restricted areas that the Feds set up.
What do?
>Try to fix the homestead
>Head to a settlement
>Visit the raider camps
>Say high to your 'neighbors'
>Head to your uncles secret bunker
>Other?