I’ve seen them do concept art for both robots and mutated vegetation…
With that in mind, it would be pretty cool if the backstory was that humans accidentally created the mutants and THEN engineered the robots to help defeat them but due to some error or other, the robots decided to destroy mutants and humans alike… to restore the peace.
I like the sound of “peacekeepers” or “guardians” for the machines. Sounds protective and like they have sort of good intentions, but also intimidating and threatening as well as offering some nice juxtaposition when they’re lighting your ass up.
A member of a clan,anonymous:
Not my work but a friend wrote this on our clan’s Rust forum:
Hardened as we are by the bitter fight we wage each day and each night for survival, I hope I can still engage a very specific part of your mind with the words I scrawl here on this rough parchment. A part of your mind that may have fallen into disuse. The part that feels hope. The part that dreams.
My pen is not the artful take on a design refined over centuries that I was used to in a former life, but a stick dipped in the blood of a pig that gave up its tenuous grasp on existence so I could continue mine.
The rough parchment is the best I could create with the memories of an uncaring version of myself during childhood. A version of myself that didn’t recognise the school trip to the paper mill might impart knowledge that one day I would find essential to my survival, and perhaps to the rebirth of society.
That is right – I want to talk to you about the rebirth of Society.
After the Fall, Rust came to scour the lands. Our mastery over all was broken and we have reverted to little better than savages. Cold and hunger are our travelling companions along with fear and desperation. When we sight a fellow scavenger, our first reaction is to find a weapon or run. Uneasy and all too temporary alliances form and disintegrate as micro-power balances shift and toggle between us. I have seen the burning beginnings of towns. I have seen the broken and abandoned shelters. I have seen the raided, the murdered, the starving and the broken wondering the land.
I dream of a place called FreeTown. A place where all are welcome and where the basics of survival are provided and protected. Surrounded by a boundary both physical and metaphorical, where theft and violence are disallowed and perpetrators of either within the boundary are rejected and punished. Where collaboration is encouraged and speech is free. Where friends can meet and trade. One place where we can start a conversation again. One place where fear can ease and hope can bloom.
I imagine a village surrounded by a protective wall, with open, unlocked buildings within featuring furnaces and benches for crafting, fires for cooking. With space to build your own private place within the protection of community. Overlooked by FABER-CASTELL tower, home of The Protectorate of FABER-CASTELL, benevolent providers, watchers and protectors.
I dare you to imagine with me, from Rust to Rebirth.
Rust is a land where only men are born, randomly across the surface, who have a tiny bit of knowledge of warfare, survival, mechanical engineering, and carpentry.
There is no government in this hellish landscape, and it seems to be a civilization beforehand that had once thrived here. As there is no law, each Newman must choose a path, the bandit, the friendly, or become one of the many screeching madmen across this horrid land.
post your’s down here