The Camp
The Camp sits on the edge of oblivion overlooking the barren wasteland known as the Desolation. While it technically qualifies as a settlement, it completely lacks any sense of community. The riff-raff, ne’er-do-wells, and miscreants who live here personify the axiom, “every man for himself.” Desperation rather than opportunity drove many of these individuals to this forsaken place. They live here by the seat of their pants, devising schemes to get ahead, usually at the expense of someone else. The Camp’s residents live in ramshackle buildings cobbled together from salvaged scraps of wood, loose branches, bundled thatch, and practically any other material suitable for construction. In many respects, they merely survive instead of truly live.
Although The Camp has no formal government, some individuals enjoy more status than others. The Usurer stands out above all others. Many believe he founded The Camp, as he has always been here to the best of everyone’s knowledge. This cunning man performs multiple functions within The Camp and serves as the settlement’s moneychanger, blacksmith, and de facto leader. The Usurer exclusively mints the only recognized currency in town: iron bits. Therefore, anyone wishing to purchase food, drink, livestock, or equipment must first exchange their money for his iron bits. For an otherwise lawless society, this is the only regulation the locals universally enforce. None of The Camp’s establishments accept any other form of currency.
The Camp may offer shelter and services, but it cannot guarantee safety, especially at night. Those who wander outdoors during the evening tend to disappear with alarming regularity, while those who stay indoors almost always awaken the following morning barring some unforeseen tragedy. Residents attribute the disappearances to the activities of a death church, though there is no credible evidence to support the assertion. For many years, no one outside The Camp cared about the town’s missing people, but a new effort to reopen the north-south trade route through the Desolation has rekindled interest in the remote town. The locals warn visitors never to travel into the Desolation without a guide, and that The Camp itself presumably harbors many secrets not meant to be discovered. Some believe intelligent undead creatures walk among them, while others speak of strange folk walking abroad also seeking to venture into the Desolation. Most residents candidly discourage newcomers from setting foot in the barren wasteland at their doorstep. Those who openly talk about going to Tsar mysteriously vanish shortly thereafter, regardless of whether they freely walked about the settlement or hunkered down in one of its fragile buildings.
Comments