A section of the mall, lit by the skylights at high noon.

This sprawling, multistory structure with its surrounding parking lot complex was one of the largest indoor shopping malls in the nation. It survived the Great War, as it was far out in the suburbs, in an area not considered strategic or significantly populous. Its shops contained a staggering amount of plunder that took successive waves of scavengers years to haul off. Despite the war and scavenging, the mall remained intact and completely powered. Eventually the looted mall became the site of a community, whose families resided in the shops and used the food court as a common area and market place. In 2270, a group of traders making a routine visit discovered that the community had seemingly abandoned the mall, they left it undisturbed due to their superstitious natures. When next a group of scavengers attempted to nab anything the townsfolk might have left behind, they found the mall dark and cold: all the non-emergency lights had been shut off, the air conditioning set to uncomfortably frigid levels, and eerie droning music playing throughout. As they searched in the darkness, they were separated and picked off one by one. Of the ten men and women that had come treasure hunting, only one eventually found the doors back to the outside and left to spread the tale.

For over ten years, the mystery of what happened to the town and the scavengers has remained unsolved. Few dare enter now, but reports are consistent. By day, the mall is somewhat illuminated by sunlight peeking in the dusty skylights and doorways and by the blood-red emergency lights. The temperature is quite cold, especially compared to the hot Kansas wasteland outside. By night, only the emergency light remains and it gives the entire location a hellish glow that casts nightmarish shadows, but those who linger after dark do not live to give details.


Another section of the mall, seeped with foul water.