- "A sunnier, happier place beside the sea!"
- ―Town Motto
Laramie Point, once one of the premier tourist-traps of the Vermillion Bay area founded following the end of the American Civil War and the bitter defeat of the Confederate States of America as a town of rich southern and northern families to congregate in, now stands as a ruined husk devoid of almost all sentient-life; besides that of the Water Tribal tribes of the Silver Fins and the River Men, plus their hangers on, locked in bitter combat over control of this particularly large stretch of Louisiana coastal-land; the few non-tribal elements looking to become involved in the town, namely smugglers from Ewing Bay, have suffered bitter defeats throughout their numerous attempts to take control of the town, but still plot to continue with an assimilation of the town regardless.
Founded and largely built in 1869 by private individuals, backed by generous post-war grants being handed out by the government, the town of Laramie Point was originally not a town, but rather a grandiose holiday resort built on picturesque coastal land flanked by lush farmland; the first rather squalid houses, bars, cafes and stores were built to accommodate workers and staff. mostly of local stock, whilst grander estates, hotels, theatres and other such residencies and venues were built afterwards to accommodate the intended residents; rich citizens of the recently pacified former-confederacy and their northern counterparts. The resort itself was largely envisioned as a synthetic-yet-traditional feeling seaside town; staff were required to look cheery and cordial, taking great pains to make the resort look like an actual town; naturally, with a bit of a more rose-tinted perspective on show. Of course, residents came from all over; though not quite enough residents of the social standing that those who had designed and built the town had wanted. Rather naively, the architects of this resort had thought that the rich would want to congregate in enclaves in the still ravaged post-war south; these naive entrepreneurs instead found impoverished southerners coming for work and bread; setting themselves up in shanties on the outskirts when they could not afford dwellings in the town. Middle class prospective-residents, whilst less cash-strapped than their poorer, largely local cousins, also did not live up to the flowery expectations of the architects of Laramie Point; yet, were still allowed to set up their own, more grounded businesses and purchase property and land in the resort; pseudo-aristocratic buyers were few and far between, unwilling to buy their way into a rather unsightly gated community. Thus, following merely the first two years of existence, the resort morphed itself more into a town with the full knowledge of it's original architects, setting themselves up as the landlords of the majority of the land on offer; surprisingly, however, the resort had generated a comfortable profit, notably due to a desperate number of post-war citizenry of the south and freed slaves searching for employment in the rather battered south being employed in the still fairly reasonably sized farming industry that surrounded and made up a part of the resort's grounds. Yet more citizens arrived in the fledgling town as the newly re-united US dedicated much of its federal funding to reconstruction of its battered southern half, with particularly convenient post-war investment arriving in the south being redirected by wealthy individuals towards vanity projects and areas where profitability was all but assured.
With the shift from resort to town, Laramie Point's fortunes grew exponentially; notably, with the creation of numerous mills and factories within the rapidly growing town. Tenements and other low quality housing sprung up to meet the demand for worker accommodation, a hot commodity within the town as workers from all over the south arrived to seek employment in the aforementioned mills and factories; goods were churned out almost daily as industrialisation swept over the south from the years 1870 to 1880; the old gentry of the south gave way, reluctantly, to entrepreneurial new-money, keen to capitalise on burgeoning domestic and foreign markets. By the early 1880s, the town was indistinguishable from it's resort-roots; factories and mills dotted the landscape, producing everything from cotton socks to breech-loading rifles, and the few fine-looking residencies in town were far outnumbered by the many slums all over town. By the near-end of the 19th century, specifically 1895, the town's tourism trade had all but disappeared; the beaches were awash with filth disposed off by the factories and the once well-kept streets strewn with garbage and all-manner of shady characters. The dawn of the 20th century was but a foot-note to the majority of the town's residents; the only notable changes were those of the variety of clothes that those wealthy enough to afford a second set had available to them and the odd motor car trundling down cobbled streets, to the amazement of many workers. It was not until the start of the First World War that change came; with America's involvement in the conflict in 1917 and the amount of men sent, factories suddenly found themselves on the end of a loss of profits and production, not necessarily in that order, and even with the seemingly outrageous employment of women in arms factories across the town and the rest of the US demand could still not be met. Further, with the arrival of Influenza and the ravaging effect on the workforce in the town, some of the smaller factories found themselves forced to close their doors as workers became a suddenly valued commodity. These returning workers, either from the muddy fields of France or elsewhere in the US, found that they had more bargaining powers than previously; factory owners found themselves negotiating with their workers on everything from salary to working hours; things that were considered outrageous prior. Factory owners now had to consider not only their profit margins and production rates, but also the happiness and general well-being of their workforce; not only that, but those now out of the manufacturing industries now found themselves looking for better cash-crops to create and harvest; they found themselves looking back to the roots of the town with certain levels of piqued interest.
The first attempted return came with a simple packaged one-day holiday, relatively affordable for most workers in the town; a simple trip to the town's roughly clean beach. Started in the closing months of 1919, this scheme became fairly popular not just among the local workers but also among workers from other town's. Laramie Point's mayoral office and local government could see a good cash-grab on the horizon and thus worked towards such a cash-grab; the length of beach on the town was spruced up, with rentable deck chairs and umbrellas being made available, streets were cleaned and beach front businesses were given a fresh lick of paint and much-needed funding. At first, beach holidays were aimed at working-class families; later, namely the early 1920s, middle class families were pandered too. Even with the advent of prohibition of alcohol in 1921, the beachfront tourist trade grew quite steadily. From late 1920 to early 1925, the town experienced a tourist trade boom; for the first time since it's original founding in 1869 the town had a thriving tourist trade. Of course, not all those who arrived in the town were of a desirable nature; those looking to escape the long arm of the law, and find an easy way to monitor smuggling operations taking place in the Vermillion Bay area from Laramie Point's closest neighbouring town Ewing Bay, began to congregrate in the very scenic, and idyllic, resort town. Federal and local law enforcement, far too busy dealing with places like Chicago and New York, ignored these growing criminal activities at first because of a lack of resource; later they did so at the behest of local government, with this local government very much in the pocket of these gangsters.With the economic collapse of 1929 and the end of prohibition in 1932, this criminal element partly petered out; but their impact remained. Many government officials were now accustomed to receiving bribes in order to vote a certain way, local store owners increasingly accustomed to handling "under-the-counter" goods and local journalists very much aware of what articles would further their careers and what would destroy their careers. This air of seedy corruption was largely hidden by the distracted gazes of many Americans, peering fearfully across the Atlantic at the rise of fascism in Europe. With the outbreak of World War II, and America's subsequent involvement a mere two years into the conflict, patriotic fervour and zeal also helped cover the tracks of particularly corrupt officials, themselves acutely aware that putting up a patriotic facade would save their hides. In fact, certain politicians' careers grew out of this patriotic front; sometimes it began with genuine patriotism in mind, other times with a far less civic-minded sense of greed as the main driving force.
With the end of WWII and the resulting peace, many of the local government and powers-that-were discovered that the patriotic facade worn so comfortably in the war could be worn after the war with an equally useful result; hiding corruption behind a patriotic, anti-communist veneer could well save many a career. Easy targets for verbal, metaphorical battering were those with increasingly unpopular positive views on communism; if these targets couldn't be found, they were invented. As the 1940s drew to a close and the 1950s started, the looming spectre of atomic war reared it's ugly head in the form of the Cold War; but for many, the fears over atomic war only came up during Civil Defense meetings. Their eyes were drawn more to the rapid advancement of technology brought on by atomic fusion and fission; all manner of products, from oversized computers to telephones, suddenly found themselves reliant on nuclear power. As the 20th century drew on, the town's burgeoning tourist trade began to accomodate new advancements in technology; automatic sliding doors, electronic greeting systems and even the earliest, room-sized terminals; all novelty trinkets that went a long way to give the town it's well-deserved reputation as a booming resort-town by the end of the century. The rapid march of technology, and virulent corruption, gave the town a prominent state in the Vermillion Bay; unlike it's closest neighbouring town of Ewing Bay, it accepted technological advancement with open arms. Nuka Cola vending machines began appearing in the 2040s, alongside RobCo Industries and General Atomics International products in the later 2040s and early 2050s; not long after, Protectron barmen and Mister Handy waiters began appearing in beachfront cafes and restaurants. Beaches were kept immaculate by a veritable army of workers, organic and non-organic, alongside streets and roads. Private businesses like shops, cafes and hotels made a yearly killing off the tourist trade, something which seemed hardly bound to the seasons. The spring and summer seasons were spent catering to young couples looking for fun; the winter and autumn months, however, were largely dedicated to families. Themed festivals and parades, ala Santa's grottos at winter-time and Thanksgiving parades at autumn, were a particularly effective cash-cow throughout the town's growth in the two decades. The tourist trade, even with the start of hostilities in the Middle East by the 2050s, was at an all-time high, and growing yearly.
Of course, with the continuing scarcity of resources, culminating in the Resource Wars of the 2050s, the pinch on funding was felt; if only slightly. Corruption grew ever more prevalent as the town continuously grew desperate for money; bribes from unscrupulous businessmen and union-busting corporate entities helped fuel many of the town's activities, whilst bribes from criminal persons helped finance individual politician's lifestyles. With the 2050s an era of turmoil and many Americans turning away from the rest of the world in fear and becoming increasingly insular in regards to daily life, the town's tourist trade largely catered more to American families on vacation and thus pandered to patriotic sensibilities, arranging "All-American" parades and grandiose 4th of July celebrations yearly; corrupt politicians delivered grand speeches about American exceptionalism and lavished great praise on the bravery of the troops; something which would be ultimately tested when, in 2066, China invaded Alaska. Once again, the patriotism bandwagon was ridden to it's fullest extent; a grand parade for those few willing to enlist with the United States Armed Forces and join in the fight for the liberation of Alaska from People's Liberation Army forces was set up to give them a grandiose send off; though largely a facade, it gave these young men and women much needed hope. As the 2060s and the Sino-American War raged on, fears of atomic annihilation were held only by a mere few; most considered the threat outlandish and laughable. For the vast majority of citizens in both Laramie Point and the United States as a whole, the thought of total destruction was a laughable one reserved for the paranoid and fear-mongering elements of society; as long as nuclear powered Chryslus Motors cars drove on the roads and Fancy Lads Snack Cakes were stacked on every counter all was fine. With the liberation of the valuable oil-stocks in Anchorage and the annexation of Canada and it's own resources, not to mention the crushing advance of US forces on Chinese soil, most Americans were kept quite secure in this belief; nothing could go wrong now for the practically victorious United States.
On October 23rd 2077, the Great War began and ended with a quick exhange of atomic weaponry; Chinese bombers and ballistic missiles detonated miles away from the strategically unimportant town of Laramie Point, spared atomic annihilation. Initial hopes were that the Federal government would come in to restore order, even as local government office workers poured into emergency shelters to "co-ordinate" relief efforts as tourists, once very satisfied to sit on their laurels in the relaxing resort town, fled the town on foot into the immediate chaos already gripping the US; this didn't matter, as many of those who remaining in Laramie Point rather than fleeing found, as radioactive fallout in the days following the nuclear exchange muddied the waters of Vermillion Bay and poured from the sky onto the town and the panicked citizens. By the end of October many of the town's long-time residents were leaving in droves; the town was all but destroyed by subsequent widespread looting as law and order collapsed in it's entirety. A few strong-willed individuals held out in the battered town out of choice; but most who remained did so for fear of unknown dangers elsewhere. As 2077 came to a close, the town's rapid decline was put in sharp focus; whilst most emergency generators kept power running in the emergency fallout shelters, food and water supplies ran out and left most trapped in these shelters with little choice but to take their life with their own hands; those not trapped on fallout shelters but instead trapped in the town lived a harsh life, congregating together in the battered remnants of one of the larger beach front hotels, eking out an existence on scavenged and heavily rationed supplies; Ghoulification as a result of the heavy radiation became frequent and most of the surviving, remaining residents thus suffered this horrific fate - suicide was common amongst those unable to deal with their new "conditions". By the close of 21st century and the beginning of the 22nd century, the town was a veritable ghost town, with survivors clinging on to a fragile life existing of supplies found in the ruins of the once thriving resort town; most survivors from Laramie Point had thrown in the proverbial town, upped sticks and left for the now ironically more thriving town of Ewing Bay.
The 2100s were a period of continued dilapidation until the 2150s, whereupon life for these struggling settlers, at this time desperately trading scrap metals and all manner of debris for cans of food in a rather pathetic existence, became even more difficult; as a result of biological and chemical tampering undertaken by Berriman Biomechanics, a company that prior to the war had held a few seminars and science days at the town hall and school respectively, a new type of mutant had come from the now abandoned laboratories of this amoral corporation; the Water Tribals. Now a tribalistic horde of almost feral creatures, still struggling to use their own language, these sub-humans had become a thorn in the side of many people in the Vermillion Bay area; two steadily growing tribes, the Silver Fins and River Men, arrived in the dying town of Laramie Point in 2160 and set to work attempting to make the town their own, albeit in two rather fragmented groups; something which was easily accomplished, given the fact that most settlers in Laramie Point fled the already unbearable town once these two tribes arrived. These two tribes, however, had a very limited hand in expelling the Human and Ghoul "outsiders"; they were far more interested in expelling one another, already having cultivated a great disdain for one another in the years they had roamed the abandoned Louisiana wastes, their warriors, scouts and hunters fighting each other tooth-and-nail any chance they got. For the settlers driven from their dilapidated dwellings, life had grown almost unbearably difficult; now living in a roughly-constructed shanty town on the outskirts as curious tribals shuffled through the ruins of their home, some found this unfortunate fate an increasingly egregious one, now forced to survive on scraps of food delivered by smugglers all but too happy to provide their services; provided their fees were paid. With the two tribes locked in a bitter and bloody rivalry, fighting on-and-off in brutal skirmishes for control of the ruins of the town. The River Men and Silver Fins did not, of course, dedicate their every minute of life to fighting one another; tribal outposts were set up in the battered ruins of the town, whilst two large encampments were set up on opposite sides of the town on the outskirts, one for each tribe, with the sprawling tents and campfires of these tribals quickly becoming a very visible blot on the landscape. Hunting parties roamed in and outside of Laramie Point's long abandoned streets, plunging into radioactive waters with a casualness that even the most ravaged of Ghouls wouldn't dream of doing, yet fearful of going inside the aging buildings themselves thanks to tribal taboos and legends.
By the end of the 2100s, the two tribes had entered a stalemate. Their relative quietness gave hope to the downtrodden settlers now living in a place known as "Shack Town" on the outskirts of the ruins of Laramie Point; eking out an existence via trade with smugglers from Ewing Bay, increasingly storing their goods in ruins close to this little town. Eager pseudo-aristocrats in Ewing Bay, by 2244, eyed the increasingly passive tribals as weakened; something they could exploit, albeit cautiously. They weren't about to risk pumping money into a dangerous investment; they wanted to make sure the waters were calm before anything close to what they themselves imagined came to pass. The next two decades were largely spent eyeing other areas of interest up and down the coast for these entrepreneurial pseudo-aristocrats; the majority of other viable locales during this time either being found to be either too inhospitable or too dangerous. It was finally decided that Laramie Point, a long abandoned and stagnant location, would suffice as a centre for smuggling operations. Thus, smugglers began congregating in the long abandoned ruins in 2275, making themselves as comfortable as possible, and setting up supply lines with Ewing Bay via fishing boat. The settlers in Laramie Point were delighted, living in the hope that the tribals would be driven out; the tribals, at first concerned, were furious, infuriated more so when smugglers began attacking scouts and hunters; apparently, these smugglers thought little of these loincloth-clad savages and thus felt perfectly safe and secure in shooting at them from afar. This period would see the two powerful tribes hold an unofficial and generally-unspoken cease fire and draw their ire and rage on to the violent outsiders. These smugglers soon found themselves losing multiple men to both the odd tribal hit-and-run attack and the raw, ruthless attacks of an increasingly infamous Silver Fin tribal, Pyr-Anrah. The tribals kept the pressure on these smugglers, not to mention hired mercenaries sent to protect these smugglers by the pseudo-aristocracy, for around six months before the pseudo-aristocracy, once again realising that this location, like all the others, was an inhospitable hell-hole, and thus abandoned Laramie Point, with the last smugglers leaving in November of that year; some would naturally remain to trade with the settlers of Laramie Point, the latter of whom were thoroughly disheartened by the failure of their would-be liberators; desperate and dejected, most settlers huddled down for what they had thought would be a united tribal front. This was not the case, as the peace that lasted a meagre two months between the two tribes went much the same way as the smuggler presence in that it quickly vanished; open warfare amongst the two tribes started very quickly after they returned to their old ways of expansion, various tribal hangers-on vying for territory and even entrance to said tribes aiding them in their plight against one-another.
The beginning of the 2280s marked something of a surprising change in fortune for the settlers; if only for a limited time until the characteristic misfortune returned. Around 2286, a young River Men tribal who had earned something of a reputation for his curiosity and his strangely courteous attitude towards outsiders, something not especially noted amongst most other Water Tribals, by the name of Barra-Kooda had apparently plucked up the courage, or perhaps simply decisiveness, to investigate the settlers' "Shack Town"; at first naturally cautious, fearing that Kooda was a single scout for an entire force set to wipe them out, it soon became clear that Kooda was far more interested in asking questions about the pre-war world than questions about their defences; a topic that they themselves had little knowledge of, but were happy enough to divulge in fear of receiving more violent visits in the future. These fears proved unfounded, however, as the plucky tribal kept returning often to ask his questions; so often, in fact, that many of the settlers came to view him as something of a permanent resident in their squalid little shanty. Further, this tribal seemed to have a more basic interest in the residents of the shanty; or, rather, one of the settlers of the female persuasion; these two seemed to be the perfect star-crossed lovers, with the settlers themselves keen to push this relationship forward for the betterment of their little settlement, especially with the River Men tribe taking note of Kooda visiting this small shanty and bringing back his own little positive tales of the settlers. The hopes that were fostered by the settlers were almost uniform; that the River Men would, if given enough reason to view the settlers as friends, aid them in some form or another; the idea of water-borne, highly dexterous and determined mutants aiding the settlers naturally appealed to their collective sense of self-preservation. 2286 came and went, with Kooda coming to the village along with some of his fellow tribesmen to engage in talks with the settlers; these tribesmen would meet with officials and engage in conversations through Kooda's interpreter skills. Most talks revolved around food and medicine, with the talks slowly progressing thanks to the language barrier, but hopes were indeed high. For the Silver Fins, watching from afar, it seemed that their enemies were engaging in talks with one another; it seemed to them a case of "the enemy of my enemy is my friend", with rumours that the settlers were preparing to hand over firearms, weapons considered taboo to most Water Tribals, to the River Men swirling and the tribe's blood-soaked champion, Pyr-Anrah, calling for retribution against this apparent slight, the Silver Fins decided to torch the shanty town and remove the apparent threat. On January the 4th, 2287, the shanty town full of settlers was torched by Silver Fin warriors led by Anrah; those lucky enough to flee suffered heavy casualties as they did so, with the town entirely torched to the ground and most of its inhabitants brutally murdered behind them, fleeing into the wastes of Louisiana with nothing but the clothes on their back and the odd firearm-or-two in their hands. By the end of the day, the town of settlers lay in ruins with the hopes for an informal peace amongst outsiders and Water Tribals, or at least those associated with the River Men, in much the same state as the burning cinders of the shanty town; Kooda would seek revenge, owing to his lover being amongst the dead, and Anrah would go on to revel in this young tribal's attempts at revenge, all the while their two tribes engage in continuing warfare, on-and-off skirmishes tearing apart the now thoroughly abandoned streets of the town's gutted inner areas. As of the present day, settlers in the farthest outskirts of the town, away from the chaos ongoing in the town, see tribal groups arrive more and more frequently in Laramie Point, hoping to join in the carnage for reasons largely unknown to outsiders; be it for a thirst for blood, for honour or for safety, visitors still flock to Laramie Point, albeit for reasons entirely different to the one's advertised before the war.
Denizens of Note
- Barra-Kooda: A Water Tribal of surprising civility, a trait in short supply amongst his peers, Barra-Kooda is famed as one of the few tribals in the area that is not all-out-hostile to outsiders, specifically Humans and Ghouls, wandering close to or even in the ruins of Laramie Point. His friendliness towards said outsiders is largely due to his curiosity towards their way of life, both before and after the Great War, and his rather brief romance with a Human woman who was tragically a part of the Shack Town massacre, leading to the young tribal attempting to hunt down and kill the man responsible he holds responsible, Pyr-Anrah.
- Pyr-Anrah: Known locally as the "Terror of Laramie Point", Pyr-Anrah is perhaps one of the most terrifying sights available in Laramie Point; Anrah's own brutality and insatiable appetite for raw violence has made him a particularly infamous character throughout the Vermillion Bay area, with dozens of River Men warriors, scouts and hunters, local creatures and even Ewing Bay smugglers murdered at the hands of this hulking savage.
- River Men: The largest tribe of Water Tribals in Laramie Point, the River Men are the mostly agriculture based group that has turned to subsistence farming in recent years as a way of surviving in the particularly harsh swamplands of Vermillion Bay; however, this subsistence farming is not only a difficult process, with reliance on hunting still far from removed, but also one that has drawn the ire, not to mention greed, of the River Men's long-time enemies, the Silver Fins. Despite it's large size and continued expansion, the tribe lacks many skilled warriors, archers or scouts with which it can adequately pin its hopes for a champion on.
- Silver Fins: The smallest of the two tribes in Laramie Point, yet arguably the toughest and most cunning of the two, the Silver Fins make up for in quality what they lack in quantity; some of the strongest, and most terrifying, tribal warriors witnessed have born the tribal warpaint of the Silver Fins whilst some of the most impressive archers and scouts have been seen with bronze trinkets most commonly associated with the tribe.
- Protectron: The clunky Protectrons, the worker robot of the pre-war days, can often be found in the aging workshops and stores of Laramie Point; still working after almost two centuries following an atomic war; whilst largely friendly, programmed to greet supervisors, owners and customers with the warmest electronic greeting possible, their good manners are usually rewarded with well placed arrow and spear impalements.
- Mister Handy: The handy robotic butler of yester-year is now rare to find and few and far between in numbers in Laramie Point the swamps of Louisiana, but the ever reliable Mister Handy can still be found hovering around the ruins of old bars, cafes and residencies; usually with a few tribal spears embedded in their chassis.
- Angler: Once the small fish of the same name, the now more vicious, and newly tetrapodal, Angler strikes from the swamps and the beaches of Laramie Point with terrifying speed, slashing claws and gnashing teeth; tribals armed with spears, clubs and arrows find themselves in life-and-death battles when confronted with these usually hidden terrors.
- Gulper: Gulpers, once the humble Salamander, are now one of the most common threats in the swamps of Laramie Point; attacking from heavy mists, they can more often than not overwhelm an unprepared group of tribals on the hunt.
- Red Eyes: Red Eyes are the vicious, snarling post-war mutations of the then common pre-war alligators; easily found near water bodies in and around the town, these powerful beasts can tear a man in two; nevertheless, many a tribal warrior has sought to test his strength against these creatures; and died trying as result.
- Green Hide: As common as their alligator brethren, Green Hides can be commonly found striking from the misty waters of swamps, more often than not attacking unsuspecting prey, be it a Mirelurk or an over confident tribal hunter. As with their Red Eye brethren, these creatures are hunted down by very determined tribal warriors, eager to prove themselves as the next greatest warrior.
- Mirelurk: The vicious, snapping Mirelurk is the most common threat found throughout Laramie Point; nesting in abandoned sewers, warehouses and other indoor areas, many a tribal has encountered a determined Mirelurk charging at them, claws snapping all the while.
- Feral Ghouls: Previous residents, tourists and even citizens from other towns, Feral Ghouls are a commonly seen sight throughout the area in and around Laramie Point; whilst most can be found shuffling around abandoned residencies, more often than not trapped inside said abandoned residencies since the early days following the Great War, some can be found in the swamps on the outskirts of the town.
- Bloodbug: Monstrously enlarged and disgusting to behold, the loud and dangerous Bloodbug is a common threat in and around Laramie Point; more often than not this winged menace is found near stagnant water bodies, quite common in the many swamps and marshes found in Louisiana, waiting for their prey to emerge.
- Bloatfly: Another insect enlarged by the mutational properties of copious amounts of radiation, the Bloatfly is yet another of the many common threats facing both tribal groups in Laramie Point; fortunately, these creatures are easily dispatched from a distance and up close, with even tribal spears puncturing their bloated hides.
- Beachfront & Market Street: A popular place for tourists to congregate in Laramie Point, enjoying ice creams and chilled sodas, the beach and market street, with the latter leading onto the former very easily, served as the largest source of income for most private businesses and the local government in the town. Dotted as it was with cafes, restaurants and bars, it is perhaps unsurprising that a still surprisingly plentiful amount of pre-war food stuffs can be found even hundreds of years after the Great War. The skeletons of previous residents can be found buried under rubble inside said, long-abandoned businesses, some still clutching to tattered photographs of vacationing couples and families; disturbing echoes of the once simplistic and care-free lifestyle of most residents and visitors.
- Town Hall: With it's Georgian-esque architecture and manor-house appearance, the town hall of Laramie Point was and is both an imposing and impressive structure; whilst largely empty, with most furnishings and items looted in the chaos immediately following the Great War, the eerily empty rooms of this badly-aged structure, with the main entrance hall's domed roof having collapsed, have made this building a particularly popular point of reference for scouts from both the River Men and the Silver Fins. Beneath the building itself lies an intricate set of fallout shelters; far more furnished than the town hall itself, but equally eerie, with lights still active thanks to poweful atomic reactors illuminating abandoned offices littered with the corpses of officials and staff members who had given up hope trapped in the shelters and ended their lives quickly.
- River Men Encampment: A large encampment built out of the ruins of the sprawling residential areas outside of the town, the River Men's main encampment is the largest of the two encampments. With most of the land surrounding the camp oriented towards farming, albeit largely unsuccessful, the land inside of the camp is used mostly for shelter and sleeping for tribal families; naturally, the majority of the permanent residents in the settlement are women, children and the elderly, with most males acting as hunters, warriors and scouts.
- Silver Fins Encampment: Another tribal encampment on the opposite side of the town, the Silver Fins tribal encampment is hardly similar to the River Men's; instead of using outer lands surrounding the main encampment for farming, this space is instead used for fortifications and training posts; warriors, scouts and hunters, both male and female, make up the largely absent population of the encampment; only mothers, the extremely elderly and the extremely young remain in the encampment, alongside a few needed elders, kept back in order to maintain order in the encampment.
- Shack Town Ruins: Commonly referred to as "Shack Town" before and after its destruction at the hands of the Silver Fins, this last bastion for the Human and Ghoul settlers of Laramie Point was an increasingly small stretch of shacks on the outskirts of Laramie Point, close to the beach where smugglers could deliver much needed goods to the settlers in return for payment; now, the shacks stand empty and torched, rotting corpses and a few broken skeletal remains lie strewn about the long abandoned settlement, the last vestiges of "civilized" society in the ruins of Laramie Point burnt away.
Holotapes of Note
Holotape 01; "What's a Vim?"
<Click of Recorder.> Hi, Sally, it's Patricia. I got that shipment of Nuka Cola you sent me; that Nuka Cherry's selling like hot-cakes. Funny how a lot of people suddenly start liking it when Nuka Cola classic comes back on the market. Anywho, the Nuka Cola's flying off the shelves, especially with a bit of lemon in the glass, but I've gotta say that that other drink you sent isn't selling as much; I know you said you'd get me some "experimental" stuff, but this stuff isn't Sunset Sarsparilla, Supa Yum or even that oh-so-well named Bawls stuff; yeah, thanks for that, that really pleased a few of the soccer moms we get in summer, this Vim stuff isn't the same; it tastes really, really, bitter and it says it's a health-tonic rather than a soda. I've never even heard of this stuff. I mean, don't get me wrong, it's okay, but the only people buying it are old folks in their 60s. Send me a few more shipments, let those Vim guys know we're interested, and get back to me as soon as possible. Hell, who knows, with the amount of sodas available we could probably get a "Sodas by Regions" thing going at the cafe. <Click of Recorder.>
Holotape 02; "Fishmen getting ornery."
<Click of Recorder.> James, it's Larry; fuck, I hope youse is gettin' this; we lost another batch 'o' guys outsid'a the main camp tah-day. Poor fuckers; you could'a heard 'em screamin' 'bout a mile away; one 'o' em ha' his whole head gone. Fuck, I ain't feelin' to sure 'bout this no-more; we're losin' lots 'o' people to this Pyr-anrah guy or whatever this fucker's callin' hisself. I jus' wan' youse to know, James, ta tell the bawsses tha' we can' do nothin' no more; not withou' that fishman fucker dead. <Click of Recorder.>
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