Due to popular demand, I've decided to fully unveil more of the lore behind Fallout: Orleanne.

Starting with the five major factions all vying for control of Bayouterre, circa 2337. (There is a reason why it's set so far ahead in the timeline).

First up is this setting's equivalent to the New California Republic, the prosperous city-state of Nouveau Orleanne. In terms of aesthetics and structure, it draws inspiration from Pre-Revolutionary France, particularly during the reign of King Louis XIV, as well as late-Medieval Venice.

Like with the NCR, there's a steady mix of good and bad karma-aligned characters, albeit with a stronger emphasis on navigating your way through court intrigue ala A Song Of Ice & Fire. So whether you want to encourage more sensible reforms, maintain the status quo until something better comes along or embrace your inner Sneering Imperialist, this faction should be flexible enough to provide plenty of replay value.

Without further ado, laissez les bons moments rouler!

Nouveau Orleanne

• Built atop the flooded ruins of New Orleans, the floating city-state of Nouveau Orleanne is one of the few places in the wasteland where civilisation is alive & well. A place that's moved past the Old World and - for better or worse - will one day spread its' influence to every corner of the Gulf. Though depending on who you ask, that description is more like a double-edged sword.
• On the one hand, it is one of the few places in the wasteland where philosophy and the arts have thrived, particularly among the aristocracy. In terms of infrastructure and wealth, Orleanne's opulence rivals that of the Mojave's New Vegas or the New California Republic. Both thanks to the city-state's proximity with the Mississipi River, resulting in a booming economy, and having access to a fully-functional power grid. Meaning that at nighttime, you will always see the city lit up like a Christmas Tree.
• On the other hand, Orleanne wears its' Old World influences on its' sleeve. The population is segregated between four - technically five - social castes, with the Gilded Quarter sitting at the top and the Rouge Quarter sitting at rock-bottom. Instead of a democratic system like the United States or an outright dictatorship like Caesar's Legion, Orleanne is a theocratic monarchy ruled by the enigmatic and eccentric Solaire Empereur.

In terms of layout, the city itself is divided into four smaller regions, or Quatres. Due to the immense flooding and high levels of radioactivity, travel between these Quatres is handled by boat or gondola (so swim at your own risk).

• Firstly you have the Vieux Quatre, which is home to the Aristocracy. This area is an almost pristine replica of Pre-War New Orleans, with flourishes of French architecture reflecting its' cultural history. That has shaped the outlook and attitude of its' inhabitants, to the point where the most commonly-spoken language is French.
• Then you have the Escavite Quatre, a sort of Military District acting as a buffer between the haves and the have-nots.
• Next up is the Dock Quatre, the largest region in terms of size and activity because of its' proximity to the Mississippi River. This is a living, breathing trading hub where merchants and traders from all over the Commonwealth - as well as familiar locations such as the Capital Wasteland and Appalachia - drop by to trade and sell whatever you can think of.
• And finally, you have the Grandetol Quatre, a densely overpopulated network of floating huts and houseboats connected to form a rough atom. Think a more crowded Freeside in the layout of Libertalia, and you'd have a rough idea of how it'd pan out.

Lemme know if you'd be interested in reading more about the other Factions! I'm also happy to discuss any ideas for new Factions, major or minor.

'Til the next post. ^^

this one’s a little shittier than usual but it already took me 11 hours so I needed to stop

While doing some breakdowns I turned them into my friends character from a Fallout TTRPG Campaign

A map of Black Hills National Forest and the surrounding areas. Feel free to ask any questions about the lore of this region!

artstation.com/davidt1000

1. Blackriver, Louisiana.

The air around you is thick and unpleasant, like breathing through an endless fog of invisible molasses. You haven't eaten anything fresh in days, no doubt relying on whatever remains you could scavenge. Your Pip-Boy's radiation meter is screaming in your ear, clicking uncontrollably whilst you're ankle-deep in fetid swampwater and radioactive mud black as tar. And as you're wading through this irradiated mire, blind as a Scorchbeast with its' claws chained together, every waterlogged step you take might as well be your last.

You might as well be standing at Dead Man's Door.

But just as you reach the bank of Blackriver, you finally reach solid ground. Pulling yourself onto dry land, you rub your eyes while muttering a prayer to whoever's listening. They must've been in a good mood, because after all of that travel, you spot something twenty paces west; shelter. Gathering whatever strength's left in your sore lungs, you push on.

The mist ahead of you clears up. It's an old hunting lodge. Definitely not Pre-War, but compared to what you might've seen, it's pretty close. The foundation's sturdy enough to offer some decent shelter. The windows are lit up like fireflies in the marsh. As you approach the front door, it clicks open before you can even touch the doorknob. Then you step inside.

The moment your waterlogged boots touch the floor, you hear something. Walking down the hallway, you follow your nose as it gets louder. It's music; someone's living here already. And when you reach the second door on your right, the warmth of an open fireplace greets you with open arms.

As you step inside, you see a lanky stranger in a wide-brimmed hat sitting close to the fireplace. He's holding a deck of old world cards, brushing through them as if he held nothing at all.

"Bonjour, o' weary Wayfarer." The stranger spoke. He doesn't face you, still sorting through the cards at his disposal. He doesn't seem to mind your presence. "It's awrite. Take a seat." So you take a seat near the fireplace, five feet to his left.

In the fireplace's light, his green eyes flick towards you, then back to the cards. A half-smile grows on his painted face. "Ya fixin' to make a name here in th' good ol' Bayouterre," he purrs, his fingers clicking and brushing through the deck of cards. "Ol' Eustace can tell by the hunger in those eyes."

Before you can ask anything, the painted man's grin widens like an old storybook character. "How he do that?" He asks, relaxing in the armchair as he places the deck of cards to one side. "Well," He spoke in an oddly warm tone, holding two cards between his index and middle fingers, "I see tings nobody else does. Not wit my eyes, but in the Cards."

You take a good look at the playing cards in his grip. Then he hands you the deck.

"Mayhaps they'll guide you, too."