WHAT TRIBE CLAIMS YOUR SPIRIT?
choose your side
risers
Unlike some who scavenged or retreated into the wild, this tribe embraced a brutal truth: in a world gone feral, so too must they be. Protected with salvaged armor, a grim mosaic of metal scraps and leather bolted together, they stalk the ruins, a constant vigil in their eyes.
The Risers are not simply fighters; they are students of violence. Their camp, a chaotic sprawl within a half-collapsed building, houses not just a forge and armory, but a bizarre workshop cobbled together from scavenged tech. Here, hunched figures pour over salvaged manuals clutched in grease-stained hands.
They are deciphering the language of the dead, the forgotten lore of weaponry from the age before. Each weapon, every tactic gleaned from these ancient texts, is another brick in the wall they build around themselves.
Their days are a relentless pursuit of power. Scouting parties venture out, not just for food and supplies, but for anything that could be repurposed into a weapon – a shard of high-carbon steel, a cracked energy cell, even a half-shattered schematic. Back at the camp, these finds are melded, reforged, and studied with a fanaticism bordering on worship.
They understand the law of the jungle, the ironclad principle that dictates their existence: to survive, you have to be the biggest, meanest predator. And The Risers are determined to be exactly that.
reclaimers
The concrete canyons, once teeming with life, now provide a twisted labyrinth for the Reclaimers. They made a choice: to burrow into the decaying monuments of the past rather than face the harsh realities of the sun-scorched present.
Within the cities’ skeletal embrace, nature is reclaiming its dominion. Vines snake through ventilation shafts, prying open windows for slivers of sunlight to reach the verdant undergrowth that carpets forgotten plazas.
The Reclaimers, wearing scavenged fabrics and wielding tools fashioned from forgotten crafts, thrive in this hidden ecosystem. They cultivate rooftop gardens, coaxing life from cracks in the concrete, and hunt the creatures that scuttle through the overgrown underbelly of the city.
Their days are a constant dance with the remnants of the past. Water is collected from rusted gutters, funneled through makeshift channels into cisterns carved from fallen statues. Moss clinging to broken windows serves as a meager source of spices.
The Reclaimers are a testament to the enduring human spirit, a community woven into the very fabric of the city itself. Their lives are a quiet defiance, a whisper of resilience echoing through the concrete canyons, proving that even in the ruins of the old world, new life, fragile and tenacious, can take root.
scavengers
The sun, a harsh ruler in the wasteland, beats down on The Scavengers. This isn’t a tribe that chases prey or tilles the unforgiving soil. No, their hunt is for a different kind of bounty – the remnants of the world before.
Clad in patched leathers and wielding makeshift tools, they scour the skeletal remains of former society, keen eyes scanning for the treasures hidden beneath the dust: a glint of metal, a tangle of forgotten wires, a scrap of sturdy cloth.
For The Scavengers, these are’t just scraps. They are currency. Their entire way of life revolves around the barter system. The elders, weathered faces etched with the wisdom of countless expeditions, meticulously sort the day’s haul.
Coiled copper wire might fetch a cured rabbit from The Unbound or even another tribe. A sheet of salvaged steel could barter for a season’s worth of dried fruits from dwellers. Every salvaged item, no matter how mundane, holds the potential for their survival.
Their motto, whispered before each foray, isn’t “Hunt or be Hunted,” but a far more desperate plea: “Find or Fade.”
Theirs is a world built from the ashes, a testament to human ingenuity fueled by the ghosts of a bygone era.
seekers
The wind whispers secrets through the tall grass, carrying the scent of wildflowers and damp earth to the Seekers. They turned their backs on the crumbling monuments of a bygone era, seeking solace in the embrace of nature. Here, beneath the endless sky, they carved a life far removed from the conflicts that plagued the wastelands.
The Seekers live in harmony with the land. Dressed with furs and woven plant fibers, they rely on time-tested skills for survival. Hunting parties stalk prey with bows crafted from strong saplings and arrowheads fashioned from scavenged metal.
People gather wild fruits and herbs, their knowledge of edible plants passed down through generations. Evenings are spent by crackling fires, stories told under a canopy of stars, the flickering flames casting dancing shadows on weathered faces etched with the wisdom of the wild.
Their days are a symphony of forgotten rhythms. The rising sun signals the start of the hunt, the setting sun a time for quiet reflection. Water is drawn from crystal-clear streams, their laughter echoing through the valleys.
Every sunrise is a new beginning, The Seekers have built a life of peace and self-sufficiency, a testament to the human spirit’s ability to find solace in the simplest things. In the whispering wind and the rustling leaves, they hear not the echoes of a lost world, but the promise of a new one.
wanderers
Unlike the insular Settlers who clung to scattered oases, The Wanderers didn’t seek refuge. They craved understanding.
Fueled by an insatiable curiosity about the fate of the world, The Wanderers are explorers, cartographers, and historians all rolled into one. Their makeshift vehicles, marvels of salvaged parts and forgotten engineering.
Their days were a symphony of discovery. Skilled mechanics, their grease-stained hands coaxing life from forgotten technology.
Astronomers, using salvaged telescopes and self-made star charts, are mapping the night sky, searching for patterns that might lead them to other pockets of humanity. Every scrap of metal, every tattered map fragment, holds the potential to unlock a new path, a new connection.
The Wanderers carry not just tools, but stories.
They document their travels in hand-drawn maps and meticulously craft journals. When we are able to find them, they always prove to be a key source of knowledge.
They are a living bridge, seeking the answer to a single, burning question: are we alone?
The initial spark was a shared attraction to The City, a magnetic anomaly that drew in individuals from all walks of life. These diverse souls, once part of The Unbound, began to coalesce around common ideals and necessities.
Survival was the catalyst. Sharing resources, knowledge, and protection proved essential in the harsh, unforgiving environment. Small, disparate groups formed, bound by proximity or shared skills. Over time, these clusters evolved into more complex structures, recognizing the benefits of specialization and cooperation.
Leadership emerged organically, not through force but through demonstrated competence and charisma. Individuals who could inspire, organize, and strategize gained influence. As these leaders united their respective groups, they laid the groundwork for the formation of larger, more organized tribes.
The process was not without its challenges. Conflicts of interest, power struggles, and ideological differences threatened to derail the nascent civilizations. Yet, through compromise and a shared vision of a new future, these obstacles were gradually overcome.
The result was the emergence of The Five Tribes: They represented a conscious effort to create order, structure, and purpose in a world defined by uncertainty. They are pioneers building new societies from the ground up, their legacy yet to be realized.