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The expedition is driving south on the road, when they see a cloud of dust appearing. After a quick call to the tactician, they decide to prepare for the worst, and form a devensive line with the vehicles. Not a moment to early, as a truck appears from the north. It is painted bright yellow, and comes to a slipping stop. On top of what was once a fuel tank are now three mounted turrets, one of which features a launcher of some sorts instead of the machinegun that is welded on the others. Only the frame of the tank is still standing, and inside is a collection of random chairs, all are occupied by armed people holding on to the frame.

The driver gets out of the truck and eyes you for a moment.
"Who are you?"
"We come from the bunkers in the north, and are in search of people that survived. We can help each other, I suggest we combine our efforts to escape this blasted city, or make it liveable."
"I see. Give me a moment, while I relay details to the HQ."

The driver gets into the truck and starts talking in a radio system. Suddenly, red lights start flashing on the truck and a siren rips the silence. Before anyone can react, the raiders have opened fire.

(For full effect, start imagining Mortal Combat theme song right now.)


The raiders attack first, having the element of surprise! Luckily, they only manage to deal minor damage, and the rocket launched from the turret misses!


The combined forces of the expedition don't do much either, as they are mostly busy wondering what just happened.

Raidermade stuff apparently isn't very high quality, as the second rocket flies off into the scenery, and one of the machineguns overheats and explodes!


The minigun mounted on the buggy does its work, and so does the rifle in the hands of the sharpshooter. One raider is ripped open by a hail of bullets, while another makes a backward somersault when the bullet lodges itself in the poor man's brains.


The raiders, seeing you are not the poor fighters they thought you were, start fleeing!

A salvo from the minigun kills another raider, while a crossbow bolt splits the head of the rocket launcher guy! Not that he was worth the effort, with his skills.


As the truck disappears in the distance, you hear a voice over the radio saying: "You better brace yourselves, bitches. We'll come back."

Atril, god of logic and crafting

A benevolent god, always trying to protect his people, and looking with a smile on their sorrowless and naive lifestyle. He helps his people only if they need it, preferring to watch how they deal with problems, and sometimes their creativity amazes even him.

The Mitharim are small, humanoid creatures, standing about a meter tall, and quite active despite their non-athletic build.

They are interested in anything mechanical, and have discovered the use of steam lately. The contraptions created in the mechanics' quarter range from genious to downright stupid, and everything inbetween, but all are made with a centuries-old skill passed on since the beginning of time.

The optimism of the Mitharim is legendary, and almost unbreakable. They will lie only very rarely, and thoughts of betrayal or bullying simply don't enter their simple minds. However, when something terrible happens, like a sudden death of a very close relative, a wave of bad feelings overwhelm them, and they do not easily recover. Such depressed Mitharim are shunned, and even though everyone feels the same compassion to them, they will not approach them - they fear to get infected. Sometimes, when the pain in an individual is unbearable, Atril will end their life. When such a depressed Mitharim dies, the hair that went black during the disease will become blond again, a sign that the deceased has regained his happiness in the afterlife.

On the world that is their home, they have one 'big city', Leria, housing several thousand Mitharim, mostly traders and crafters. Every guild has his headquarters there as well. Furthermore, there are a few minor cities and villages dotted around, bringing the total to ten thousand odd Mitharim.

The city is ruled by a council of 13, being the 12 guild masters and a president chosen by the people.

However, the city that Atril places on the game board is an outpost, a mining camp if you wish. A few hundred of his people traveled far from the city, in order to find new, exciting things and statisfy their curiosity. Little did they know they entered the playfield of the gods on the fourth day of their travel, and that the tent camp they set up is closely watched by Atril himself.

Within a few hours now, Atril would uncover for them a cave, the walls of which are red from the iron hidden in the stone. And as Atril knew them, they would stay, and start building. They would thank him for the metal deposits they had found, and for the meadows a little downhill. And once they had settled down, the game could begin.

Ildrad, expedition leader, skilled in logistics and mechanics. Like al Mitharim, Ildrad is always curious about what lies beyond the next hill. However, unlike most others, he has the ability to lead his people there.