Approximate Population: 8 confirmed, plus 3 prospects
Description: The Annex, or Imperial Mountain Annex, is the first official division of the infamous Red Fork Empire. Based in Denver, Colorado this award winning team of designers, artists, crafters and inventors have taken the local scene by storm. After recent success with post-apocalyptic costuming, the Annex received invitations to attend numerous events and national conventions, but set their sites on Wasteland Weekend. The Annex’s armored, four-wheeled, weaponized vehicles are built from salvaged and hand-made pieces, while their fully-themed campsite is a patchwork of military tents and custom accents. Drawing from their different talents and backgrounds, the team’s accomplishments stem from their unique approach to costuming coupled with a need for authenticity.
Bio: Not long after the Collapse, the Front Range fell to the hordes of the great plains of desolation. The raiders came wave after wave, and through their masses the Minister of Infernal Affairs passed, bringing the message of power and consolidation of the Red Fork Empire. Together he set out with his eternal companion and shining star of style in the wasteland; the Baroness. With her at his side to dazzle and distract the weak willed men of the camps and outposts they set out on their mission of conquest for the empire.
Brandishing the telltale signs of an uncrushable spirit and drive to dominate, Hooligan made a natural first recruit. His misanthropy and willingness to settle problems with the skull marked bumper of his custom marauder, Tetanus, silenced all but the most vehement objections in Denvertown. His skull and scalp topped totem bring fear to his enemies and dares them to challenge him, only to be broken on his fists of bronze and terrible stare.
It wasn’t long before the tantalizing and beguiling Correspondent had full reports on all pockets of resistance against the Empire. Knowing that the Dull, the sworn enemy of the Empire wouldn’t hesitate to use the hordes of the plains against the burgeoning outpost of the Empire and bring soul crushing monotony to the caravan towns that sprung up around what used to be Denvertown. Her beauty and skills with interrogation via conversation are second to none, and many a raider found his pockets lighter and lips looser, without ever realizing his loss. Sharing this information with the Empire one thing was clear. Help would be needed.
The Ambassador of Fortune stepped forward and brought with him the loyalty of the Brethren, bringing fodder to the coming battle and his personal brand of death and destruction to the fray. His rolling step and swagger do nothing to cover his readiness to bring a randomizing element into the fray. Whether it be cutlass, lance or gatling gun, his kills are often left burning here and there, signs of his passage. Should you hear his telltale phrase, “Stay frosty, princess”, know that you’ll soon be joining the ranks of those he’s left humbled and defeated.
It was then that Cardinal’s hulking form was recruited, his body covered in road signs and blood. His mismatched disheveled form leaving much to be desired from admirers of beauty his broad frame and bulk become all but a freight train when the ruckus starts as beauty lasts only until the first blows fall. Known to be a twisted soul despite his religious paraphernalia, his mad cries and cackling wails have unsettled droves of people, and his screams of “Dave’s Dead, BITCHES!!!” leaving those few that survived confused and bewildered.
Knowing that with such a motley and boisterous crew, casualties would be unavoidable the Minister found and recruited the Alchemist. Healer, torturer, or assassin, few know her true role in the group. For as often as her healing hands and arcane knowledge was used to push each of their individual talents to new levels, it was rumored to be equally common to see her, blood dripping from her hands, as she whispered the secrets of the dead or dying to the Minister.
With the addition of the Overseer of Demolitions, the strategy for dominance took shape. Always one to leave the tanker destroyed, burning in a twisted, wrecked ruin of machinery, he will leave no advantage to the enemies of the Empire. Even the ground will turn against them as his friends the Betties take root under the shallow sands, ready to bounce into action. Since raw destruction is not enough, knowing that there would be deals to be made, people to rob, and communities to bilk, the Overseer brought forth his motley crew of minions. Ever ready to sell a poor soul for petrol, or worse yet trade for a pack of cigarettes, they stand at the ready to solve any problem. Or die trying.
Seeing the strength of the tribe, the Minister knew, the hordes stood no chance, they fell swiftly, brutally and giving up their limited resources. Seeing this swift success, the Minister turned his sights west, past the Rockies, to the desert. The Imperial Mountain annex would ride in the name of the Red Fork Empire, ride for Wasteland Weekend, ride for conquest, ride for victory, ride for the glory, and ride for blood.
Website: http://redforkempire.com/
Membership: Private
