THE WORLD DIDN'T END.
It drowned.
You're still here. Maybe that means something.
Probably not.
The corps of old promised light and power - Project DAWNFIRE. Fusion. Geothermal. Salvation as a drill. They cracked the Arctic Shelf, and the oceans howled. Ice melted. Seas rose. Nukes flew. Fallout reigned.
Now the sun burns wrong. The tides are oil. The air's poison. Reality leaks. Monsters crawl through.
The corps hoard what's left behind domes and orbitals. Everyone else — Scav or Bastard. The rich fled upward, still digging down.
They mine the deep and the dark. You fight, trade, and survive on drift-fleets and rusted coasts. Run with factions — or against them.
Every breath's a curse. Every friend's a risk. You're gene-warped, cyber-junked, too broke to quit. You scavenge, hack, kill, and stay afloat.
You are RUSTBORN BASTARDS.
You are SALT, METAL, N' RAGE.
Rustborn Bastards is our own rotten hymn - a brutal, cursed world of salt, metal and rage. It stands on its own, yet its veins are open, designed to bleed seamlessly into other Mörk Borg systems. Through the shifting chaos of Drag Pools (rifts), your scvm can stumble into Rustborn's rust-choked wastes… or let its horrors flood back into whatever doomed world you came from.
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