Sons and Daughters
Sons and Daughters
A Post-Apoc Airships Campaign for Savage Worlds
[insert lyrics from "Sons and Daughters by the Decemberists]
The War came and went, and it left us behind.
It must have been a mistake, our grandparents say. Their parents had stopped preparing for it years before. The War finally came, anyway, and our grandparents and parents were safe here, Our little town, hidden away, wasn’t worth the attention of the greater troubles that had come to the world. They were left to watch with their telescopes and listen with their radios and their televisions and their satellite internet as their world died all around them. It fell apart to fire and steel and plague and rust and it broke their hearts. You can still see it on their faces, behind the love and worry and pride.
Even as all fell apart outside, they held onto what they had here. Even after the EMP, the great bursts of static that killed their computers and scattered the brains of our robots, they sowed their crops in our clean soil and pumped water up from our clean wells and made the best lives they could. With their books and their brains they raised our parents, who had us and raised us, too.
Time brought hardships to us, too. The winds brought poisonous fallout, killing some of us and spoiling our fields for years, leaving us years of dangerous and arduous clean-up. Barbarians and war-bred monsters claimed the roads, blocking us off from contact with other survivors. They come sometimes to test our courage, and though we’ve always repulsed them, they always claim a price in blood. With no wider world to buy medicine from or send our sick to, illnesses that our grandparents thought minor are to us life-threatening. And even when no special hardships loom, wresting life from the land is no easy task.
We kept to hope, thinking that though we had no way of knowing, there must be other safe places, quiet pockets where civilization survived. Finally, last year, our faith was rewarded when the airship came. It puttered in, barely clearing our rooftops, its bags in tatters and daylight shining through the holes torn in its gondola. Its captain was in even sorrier shape. He told us about the battle with the air pirates and the escape he barely managed, though it cost him his health and the lives of all his crew. We gave him succor and nursed him back to health, and he told us more.
He told us about the world outside, the safe places, the quiet and not-so-quiet pockets where civilization survived. He told us about the fiercely proud Lone Stars, united in their independence; the green, faith-ruled bastion of Deseret; the skyborne towns called the Thunderbirds, some of them havens of security and hope, some dens of greed and piracy. He also told us about the airships that they build to travel and trade over the wastelands in between, leaving the tainted earth and its vicious inhabitants below. Then, he told us about the air pirates that prey on those brave enough to tread the sky; the slavers and warlords of the roads and the rails; the robber barons of the factory towns, seeking to abscond and despoil in the name of growth and profit; the cults of death and the cults of personality, eager to sacrifice your flesh to claim your soul.
When his stories were done, he made the offer. He’d seen enough of the sand and the sky. The loss of his crew put a price of misery on returning to his old life. For a new home, a quiet place to live out his days, he offered us what was left of his ship. So, for a year, we worked under his guidance to rebuild the airship and learn what we could from the captain about piloting, trading, fighting, and surviving in the wider world outside of our town.
Now, we have a ship and a crew. We’re the best of our generation, the strongest and the smartest. It’s our part to take this ship and venture out into the new world beyond our home. What will we find? Who will we meet? That remains to be seen. Let’s find out.
The Setting: North America. Blown up. Near future, a little cyberpunk, robots as playable characters. EMP destroyed most sophisticated electronics during the war. Most fighting was still being done with today’s tech, with a few forays into coil guns and directed energy. Oil scarcity loomed, and hydrogen really took off, which led to the construction of many automated hydrogen factories in remote places with access to natural water and power: tide farms, geothermal vents, wind farms, solar farms, these sorts of things. A self-renewing supply of hydrogen in places out of the devastated zones is part of what’s led the survivors to take up airship travel.
Setting information about Sons & Daughters appears frequently as a weekly update at Most Dangerous Games.