You Keep What You Rock

The year is 87,139. The world is a confused mess of cultures and technological levels after a great conflict called The Morass left devastation and radiation in its wake. Most of humanity, if you can still call them that, live in the few areas where the air and water are still clean, or in great domed cities deep within the wastelands. You are just as likely to meet a man on a mule peddling trinkets as you are a great war-band riding hovering platforms blaring battle hymns from speakers which tower over them. Demons roam this land, bandits on great winged lizards patrol the skies, men in AI-controlled suits keep roads safe for pilgrims, and the only protection you can rely on is your own steel, your own wits, and that plasma-cannon you picked up back in Tarshis.

Welcome to a world of metal, where you keep what you rock. Welcome to Ohm.