Long has the sun scorched our godforsaken planet. This place was once green and prosperous but as good men seek more and more, it's their greed that turns them into bad men in the end. Long after battles fought over riches like oil and gold, no more are they worth any riches to anyone anymore. Anyone save the few who still cling to the old ways of life. We call them Grits, and no one likes the Grits. Not a day goes by isn't shot dead in the streets or stores, this place is wild, and you'd best keep to yourself, or you just might end up with an Iron in your back and lead in your spine.

With that in mind welcome to the scorched wastes of our fine planet of Hydrexen, not a sorrier sight in all we know. This place is only fueled by one thing, water, the source of life, and the final thing clung the by the wretched and squalled that call this planet home, at least, as much of a home as you can get nowadays. Those that control the water control this planet and its other, how should I say, "Business Oppurtunities". Those asshats that live at The Oasis, District 19, and only those rich enough to have all the water they could ask for. They have their own private armies, and most within are more ruthless and savage than the outlaws roaming these decrepit wastes, save the Big Three of course.

The Big Three are of course the three largest and scariest posse of crooks and murderers that this fine place has to offer, but more on that later. The Oasis supplies all the other 18 districts with water, thats to clean with, and drink. mostly nowadays no one cleans with water anymore, just too damn valuable to waste like that. Now the Oasis gives out scraps of their water supply, leaving the average folk with only one option, become and outlaw. The Big Three and Oasis have a bit of a blood fued thats been going on for some number of years, started way back when this planet was still green, and now its only gotten worse.

To explain the Big Three you have to know who they are, and where they reside, in no real order of danger I will tell them to you, You see not one is more dangerous than the other, they are all very dangerous, its just sometimes they spit out a man thats tougher than nails, and straighter than an arrow, and those are the ones that lead on to do great and terrible things. To start might as well begin with The Pitsman Riders. These hog jockeys control the shithole of a place District 1, also known as The Pits. In The Pits your just as likely to fall into a pit chock full of shit than you are of getting mauled by the massive hogs that roam those parts.

To explain these hogs in a way you might understand you need to realize that over hundreds of years of being exposed to the remnants of the weapons of the Old World cause many a funny hapenings all across Hydrexen. Firstly, it created the Foglands, District 15, but that can wait for a little while. These hogs were once bred and slaughtered for food as the stories go but as they took in all the weapons of the Old World left behind they began to grow in size, and in turn appetite. Not many Irons are left that can still punch through the thick hides of one, and they really are something to be scared of.

That being said, The Pitsman Riders are just that, Pitsman that ride the giant hogs. I like to call them Squealers as a good friend of mine once did, you can hear them coming from a mile away. The only thing louder than them hogs is the stench that the Pitsman give off, but it makes sense given what The Pits are. You see, the reason it's called The Pits, and why I mentioned fallin into a pit chock full of shit, is because thats what is there. Large puts filled with nothing but shit, rotten, stinky, good for nothing shit, and for some reason them hogs are attracted to them. The Pitsman used this in oder to tame some of the bastards.

The Pitsman may not be the smartest but they sure do know how to handle the wild beasts that roam their lands. They use their riders as a sort of upper level of their posse, the best of them if you could say that. Each one of the Pitsman they recruit to being a rider must tame a hog, alone. Not many of them succeed, also because each time they do it, theres only one hog, it kills the rest. Sometimes it kills them all, and others, on rare occasion, warms up to a recruit. In that case, the recruit has to use the hog to kill the rest, only one rider at a time is chosen, sure is a messed up way of running things ain't it.

The leader of The Pitsman Riders is just as large and just as angry as the hog upon which he rides, the Hogking Bruiser. Bruiser is a name that stuck a long time ago and for good reason. He's tall and one of the most muscular men that walk this hellhole, a damned mountain of a man, if its even fair to call him one anymore. Born and raised within the Pits, and it shows.

Trying any funny business with Bruiser is a one way ticket to a deep swim in a pit you definately wont want, and wont get out of. I can't tell you how many bodies are in them pits. Being thrown in over the years they really begin to build up like the shit itself, seems like now theres more bodies than shit in them. Brusier loves to terrorize the closer districts to the Pits for all kinds of reasons, all of them except Greater New Mastia however but that can wait for now. The closest Districts to the Pits are 2, 3, and 4. District 2 is the Screeching Wastes, and that pretty much sums up the whole place.

There ain't much there save desert and tall mountains runnin smack down the middle of the damned place nearly cutting it in half. Bruiser loves to steal from the people that live there on account of them not having a way to defend themselves. Bruiser juts in on their share of the Collection cycle. The Collection cycle is what the Oasis does to split up the water to each District, but they hold most of it for themselves giving the people nowhere near enough to live well off of.

District 3 is an interesting one to say the least, well not really. The Shafts is District 3, and that’s where all the powder for the Irons come from, but also where the Iron comes as well. You’d think that this would be one of the more prosperous Districts on account of how much Irons are wanted and needed throughout our little slice of Hell, but you’d be wrong. District 3 is a poor district, filled to the brim with miners, and powdermen. They do what you think they do, the miners mine, and the powdermen make all the powder. The Pitsman raid both and use them to bribe for more water for the next Collection but it never works out for them in the end.

Now comes District 4, Greater New Mastia. This just happens to be where I was born and raised, and when looking at the rest of the Districts, there are definitely worse ones to spend your life. Greater New Mastia is the trade central for all the Districts, and in being that it is akin to outlaws stalking the streets and villages that are unlucky enough to have been founded there. These outlaws are the reason The Pitsman and Bruiser don’t raid Greater New Mastia, they know a war between posses never ends well. As they all hate the asshats at Oasis, they still hate each other.

This outlaw posse is the one I know the most about, as I saw them nearly every day, but never up close, that’s dangerous business. The outlaws that call Greater New Mastia home are the Mastian Reapers, and they do just that. They are one of the more feared of the posses on account that they are so large in number, only passed by the Fogdrinkers. The Mastian Reapers spit out some of the toughest sons a bitches this planet has ever seen for one very good reason. They run it like it’s a military from the Old World, and any caught out of line or breaking their code gets shot and hung in the town square.

The most bodies I’ve seen hanging in all my years living in Greater New Mastia have been nearly 50. Not just men either, but women and children too. They recruit children from debts their parents go into if they can’t pay, it’s a bloody business, but they are damned good at what they do that’s for sure. Any man that reaches the age to join outright thinks they are tough shit until they have to do their initiation. To become a Mastian Reaper you have to destroy all you love in the world, which is why I never ended up joining. I already had lost all I loved, and they don’t take depressed fools.

They make their soon to be new blood kill their family, hand dig their graves, and bury them. Every man going in, and every woman going in knows the struggle. Where the children come into this is, they too have to do this. The children must kill their parents however, which is why so many are hung. Some go through with it though, and those are the ones you really need to watch out for. When you bury your loved ones it’s a hole that never gets filled, unlike graves, them get filled really quick around here.

The Reapers then bathe their fresh outlaws in blood, and this is where it gets gruesome. Remember the bodies I told you about, when they get hung, the new bloods are shuffled and stuck underneath them, and are drenched in the blood of those who could not make the cut. Once the blood has finished dripping down onto those sorry souls they are rounded up and forced to run through a large fire. The setup for this is really something to see if you get lucky enough, or unlucky enough to see it if you get what I’m saying. This is what the Reapers call The Inferno Trials.

The Inferno Trials are a set of games of sorts, a group of ten or so new bloods are shoved into a long narrow trench, their goal is to reach the end, if only it was that easy. On the other side sitting on a stone pedestal sits one Iron, and one Iron only. Any who reach the end, if there’s more than one has to kill the rest with the Iron. Should they run out of lead, they must fight with their hands like the savages in the Blackmarsh do. There can only be one remaining new blood after the trial, and that new blood is then welcomed into the Mastian Reapers with open arms, but their journey has only just begun within the posse.

This new blood is then named, a Cruciate, and that simply means they are a rookie. The Iron they are given is the one which they used within the Inferno Trials. They then get to choose a name for their Iron, and most times it’s the name of the one they loved most whether they be their husband, wife, son, daughter. Most times it was their wife for men and husbands for women. It is a subtle reminder of the lives they used to have and the lives they now chose.

You might be thinking, you said Inferno Trials, but there was only one. That was the Trial of Kinder, there are a few more but I’m not one to say just what they are yet, there’s plenty more to talk about with the Reapers for right now. The Cruciates follow around a mentor of sorts, one who is a veteran among the ranks of the Reapers. The mentors are the Oathmen, and they swore on the very sand they stood on that the Reapers would be where they died, and nearly all of them did.

The Oathmen have only one purpose, train Cruciates. More often than not Oathmen would go through ten to twenty Cruciates during the first few Collections as they died so damned often. I knew a young boy once, parents had gotten in debt to the Reapers over some water way back in the day, the boy killed his parents, buried them, passed the Trial of Kinder with ease. He named his Iron Vengeance, and you can see how this might turn out. He climbed the ranks of the Reapers until he was given a choice, either continue on to the Veteran status, or become an Oathmen.

This boy chose Oathmen, as it put him closer to the top three, and closer to his goal. One day after the hangings of those who broke the code and committed crimes against the Reapers, this boy and all his audacity challenged the top three of the Reapers to a duel. Thing is he didn’t call one of them out at a time, he called them all out, which goes to show just how much hate one can hold in their heart. The boy then dueled the big three, and on draw, he shot the three of them dead where they stood before they even got their Irons on target.

I watched this duel and I remember thinking, this might be the greatest outlaw I have ever seen, and when one wins a duel, they take the rank and title of the one they killed unless they are higher ranked than the one they kill. This boy walked over to the bodies of the big three, now the dead three. He stood over them and took out Vengeance, his Iron, and blasted the rest of his lead into their bodies. After he was done he took his Iron and dropped it down onto their bodies and just walked away. This of course was a huge mistake, but he didn’t care at that point, his mission was done, his life was set right in his eyes.

The Reapers sent out droves of Veterans to find him, but they never did. The last they saw of the boy was a trail that lead out to the Wilds. The Wilds are no district, they are the lands in which no one goes, because no one ever returns from them if they do. I’ve heard stories of beasts that live there, beasts that you cannot even imagine. The stories come from merchants whose wares end up being carried off during the sandstorms that infest the Wilds.

Many journals have been found, explaining these beasts, but until I see one with my eyes I will continue to say the stories aren’t true. As I said, none that go in ever come back, at least not alive anyhow. This boy has no doubt in my mind been swallowed up by the sands and if I ever have a reason to go into the Wilds, then death wont be too far behind. The Wilds are a dangerous place, and only those foolish or desperate enough try and pass.

Now back to the Mastian Reapers, there story is far from over and you will hear more about them as I tell this here story. The Reapers are not to be taken lightly or seem like they are any more righteous than the next band of outlaws that spring up. They are no saints, but in times of need they lend a hand to the communities around here, even going as far as sharing their water reserves. The Reapers often lend more a hand then they should, and there were times they were called upon for help, but did not answer, they are still outlaws.

They have given The Oasis the biggest fight and are constantly stopping the powder and iron shipments coming from The Shafts. The Reapers don’t kill and murder, they just steal, and they do it so often they set up their own iron and powder factories. This didn’t sit well with them over at Oasis, so they sent droves of their militant forces to destroy the Reapers. You see the thing about the Reapers is that even for being so large, each member is capable of near godlike actions.

Through the trials and tests, they are put through they do indeed become one with their irons, and one with death. They do not fear to die, and they love to kill. Killing is not their cause however, their cause, is to take back control of the world and try to save it. At least, that’s what the Reapers were formed for back in the first days of the New World. Now they are sullen, crooked, and greedy. There are a few Reapers however that still take the oaths of old seriously, and they live their lives by them, and die by them.

Oasis lost the fight in a landslide and the Reapers chased them all the way to their front steps all the way to The Oasis District itself. They however chose to hold off on their advance and sending a message. That message being very loud, and very clear for all In the Oasis but sadly, it seems time once again is burying the past, and the mistakes of old come round again. Back to talking about the Irons that the Reapers were making.

These Irons were made for one thing in mind, to show rank. The better the Iron, the better the Reaper, but looks can be deceiving. You see, choosing a better looking Iron is only a choice, and some choose to keep the one in which they passed the Trial of Kindle with, a crude but effective murder utensil, like a rusty spoon just going much faster and hitting much harder. Each Iron is personalized down to the color of the metal. You see using Old World technology left over the Reapers can turn the regular old iron into a different looking metal entirely, like gold, steel, or even cobalt. Each metal is only just a look and not the actual thing itself otherwise maybe we wouldn’t be limited to just iron for things now.

Irons about the only thing we can get our hands on anymore cause like I said, the Wilds block most of the Old World, and being unsure as to what lies beyond the Wilds, we are just stuck with what we got. The process for changing the irons look is a mystery to me but some of the Irons that Reapers are carrying around show really well who they are and what they do. Everyone in these parts can spot a Reaper, not only from the distinct Irons they carry but also something else. They all have some sort of black attire, but is consistent to a blackened hide hat, a dark brown or black duster and shreekskin boots.

The boots are the easiest thing to spot a Reaper as the colors they shine when the sun hits them is a sight to see altogether. Even though the boots appear black, when the light hits just right, there’s an explosion of color from them, and they light up an entire room. They also have a tattoo on their face, it's the Cycle they joined, and each promotion they had after is left with tallies underneath. Most have it on the back of their head behind the ear, but some put it under their eyes, and I even saw a man with it in the center of his forehead. I only saw him twice though, once in the market, and the next was one of the hanging days, where he and the two whores whose husbands he killed hung side by side.

How that man made it into the Reapers is a mystery to me entirely, but it doesn’t matter now anymore, lets get back on track, where was I? Oh right, How the Reapers are easy to see. You see, once you live here long enough you learn to quickly see what type of person someone is just by having a quick talk with them with just about anything. Reapers don’t talk to anyone, and when they talk to other Reapers they whisper and keep their plans secret. I admire that level of caution, but it makes you wonder, what are they up to?

Past twenty or so cycles have been rough in the most part for the Reapers. They have to deal with not only The Pitsman, The Oasis, but also those savages out of the Blackmarsh. Blackmarsh is actually the next district, District 5 and nothing much comes out of there, at least, not alive. Those that lived there during the Old World were always on about how the world would end, and life would end, looks like the jokes on them because the world did end, but we lived on. The long time that went by changed them in ways you couldn’t imagine, they attack on sight, and will tear you limb from limb, literally.

Every now and again one leaves Blackmarsh, and they try the world away from eating bodies and doing chants of death or whatever the hell they do in that swamp. Another thing about the Blackmarsh, the reason its called Blackmarsh is because of the water, or what used to be water. It runs black, from what we can’t find out, cause the savages won’t let us, they say it’s the blood of the world, and they drink it during some of their ceremonies.

There have been some of the savages that have left that end up becoming a decent human being, they are mainly outlaws and are still bat shit crazy but they are just like any other person who lives on this planet. Normal is far from what you could call those that live here, we mostly just live from day to day, mostly. Blackmarsh used to be a great sprawling swampland that, from stories that are told, used to be a place where people would go to catch food out of the river, they called them fish. We haven’t seen anything swimming in the water that we could eat in a long time here, sometimes we find an underwater river in The Shafts but that never has any sort of scaley water dwellers within.

However, with recent searching by some of our more adventurous neighbors, there have been tales of a monster in the far north of the Blackmarsh. This monster was said to be as black as the water, and nearly four times as large as the Squealers, and a beast that large is nothing to be taken lightly. It’s a shame no one has actually seen the full thing, but its described as a scaly monstrosity with four legs, a long tail, and a massive bony head with jagged teeth. One of the stories told of a man caught by something while searching the water, don’t know why you’d go into that black water in the first place but that’s not my place.

It starts when two younger men journeyed up to the north of the Blackmarsh, in search of a new way to get water, or perhaps a new source of water. They only found more and more of the black waters that infested the swamp and something else entirely. When they reached the far north the small raft they were using struck something. When they went to investigate, the raft became stuck. So, one of them jumped into the water, and tried to find what the raft was stuck on so they could keep moving. Where they ended up sitting when the raft got stuck was right on the edge of the Blackmarsh as it met the Wilds, and that’s where I would assume the beast comes from, as mostly all of them do.

The one in the water gets grabbed and pulled under, his friend still on the raft rushes to the edge to look for his friend. A couple seconds later, he can see that a little ways off in the water something thrashing around. He saw his friends arms flailing and he could hear gurgled screams. Just as quickly as it started, it ended, and the man on the raft could see no sign of his friend that went into the water. Soon after the man on the raft said he saw a massive bony head surface from the water and look directly at him, said the beast that he was staring at made a hissing noise towards him, as if marking his territory, and asserting his dominance.

The man eventually got the raft unstuck and fled from the scene as fast as he could paddle. When he reached safety, he set up many warning signs, telling any who planned on venturing out farther than the signs that they would die. Many have gone, and only the one man has ever returned. Ever since that day the place has been called, Marsh of the Black Serpent, as if it was a large snake, but most know snakes don’t have legs, and don’t swim. I haven’t seen these signs myself but there are a few whom I’ve met that have, and they say it truly is a haunting sight to see.

As far as the savages in Blackmarsh go they are a tribe of warriors, or so they call themselves. They are named Kuru, why is a mystery to me, I know of nothing that leads them to be named that but who am I to judge their choice. They formed roughly after the first seven or so cycles and have been radicalized and belligerent ever since then. I wish they would fight Oasis more than they did anyone else but it seems they aren’t interested in those over at Oasis.

The Kuru are probably the most savage backward assed peoples you will ever see, they also will be the only ones you see again. Not many survive an encounter with the Kuru, those savages maim and dismember any who are unfortunate enough to be caught by them. They have their way of understanding this world, that it was meant to happen and that one will come along and help us rise from the ashes, bunch of bullshit if you ask me.

Now enough about them savages for now, the first five Districts seems like they are enough trouble for one world don't they? Theres still fourteen more to go, well thirteen, on account of me telling you a little about Oasis, all I would need to tell that is. All that said however, the rest of the Districts are a little less wild, all except for one but we will get to that one soon enough, ain't this just the coldest place in Hell? Its gettin pretty late now, its about time for me to get some sleep, come back round tomorrow should you want to hear more about our nice slice of Hell.