The Scavengers
Introduction
"You want to survive? Be sure you are useful."
They walk where others dare not.
In the Age of ash and blood, survival is currency and usefulness is the one thing that still spends.
Scavengers were the first who learned that truth.
Before the first fires died out, before the road were overan and the cities abandoned, they were already on the move; silent shadows slipping through the cracks.
They don't fight for territory.
They don't care of building empires.
They navigate the ruins and return with maps drawn in memory.
No banners. No promises.
All a scavenger has is quiet footsteps and a set of sharp eyes.
Who are the Scavengers?
If you are looking for a jack-of-all-trades, you'll find one in the Scavengers.
They are the quiet breath before the next storm and the last shadow slipping out of a town after it burns. They move alone, cloaked in patched fabrics and wrapped in silence. Their faces stay hidden behind masks, hoods, goggles fogged by dust. Their weapons are small, fast, and precise. You never see the blade until it catches the last light of dusk, and by then, it’s too late to wonder why it’s there.
Their tools are worn from use and forged by salvage and memory. Their packs rattle with the weight of a dozen stories they’ll never tell. And if you’re lucky enough to hear one, listen closely: there’s always a warning buried between the lines.
Scavengers are explorers and seekers; of shelter, of salvage, of the forgotten paths through a broken world. They cross dead zones, ghost cities, storm-torn wilderness. They map what remains, mark where danger sleeps, and bring back what others can’t even imagine. Not for pride. Not for curiosity. But because they know one truth:
The first to reach the hidden things decides their price.
And that price is what keeps them alive.
They forge no alliances, swear no loyalties. They'll deal with Immortals if the barter is clean, or trade with a Reaver if the terms are clear. But they do have a code; strict, unwritten, and never broken.
Once a secret is shared, it leaves their hands forever.
They don't resell. They don't repeat. What’s bought stays bought. That’s the deal.
They understand what others have forgotten:
In a world where trust is dead and roads lead nowhere, survival belongs to those who are useful and hard to replace.
Why Become a Scavenger?
Because no one feeds the useless.
Because the world is broken, and someone has to know where the cracks run deepest.
Scavengers don’t wait for help. They are the help when the pay is right. They walk roads no one else dares to follow, not for glory, but for leverage. Every working filter, every stash of clean rations, every safe tunnel scrawled on a half-burned map, that’s power now. Power you can trade. Power that keeps you breathing.
Scavengers discover things before they’re wanted, then wait until someone’s desperate enough to pay the right price. They deal in what’s buried, lost or even forbidden. In a world where ruins run deeper than memory, that makes them irreplaceable.
They trade in things that are important:
Blood from the Immortals to ward off sickness, or worse.
Shelter from survivor enclaves; safe walls, hot food, a name that won’t be questioned.
Answers from the Mages; about symbols or whispers no one else can understand.
Theme Soundrack
- Hollowed: They see paths no one else can. But the Abyss left its teeth in them. Keep your distance; or lose your way.
- Reavers: They are brutes, but if they are on your side, you'll sleep easier. Just don't owe them anything.
- Relic Hunters: Smart folks, if a bit too obsessed with ghosts. Yet, I'd trade with one before trusting a Hollowed.
- Revenants: Traitors. If they were willing to sell their souls, guess what they'll do with your trust.
- Immortals: Useful. Terrifying. They hold pieces of the old world. But when you deal with monsters, keep your hand on the knife.
- Mages: They have the answers. Unfortunately, they are too shattered to speak, or too cursed to trust.
Every deal is quiet, but the rules are clear:
You want something rare? Bring something rarer.
They walk alone, because freedom has its price. They need a stomach for solitude, a patience for silence, and a gambler’s heart. They tread where the wind howls through hollow buildings, and forgotten things draw breath. When they return, no one thanks them, but they always pay and pray the Scavenger keeps coming back.
It's a hard life, but for some, it’s worth it. Not for the reward. Not for the thrill.
But because the farther you go from the world’s noise, the more the world listens when you speak.
What the world thinks
- Hollowed: “They walk like ghosts with purpose. They chose their madness; we had ours gifted.”
- Relic Hunters: “Our best allies. Shame they worship solitude; together, we might actually rebuild.”
- Reavers: “Quick, clever, sometimes even brave. Not built for a fight, but good at finding what we need.”
- Revenants: “They come and go as they please. No brands. No chains. Just shadows and silence. Must be nice.”
- Immortals: "They bring us relics, routes, rare things and they don’t ask questions. It’s almost endearing. Like clever rats bringing gifts to wolves.”
- Mages: “They often tread paths best left forgotten. Some carry back pieces of the world. Others discover things that were buried for a reason.”
“I don’t sell the same secret twice. That’s how you end up gutted in a ditch with your own map stuffed in your mouth.”
Notable Scavengers
Fabio
Fabio isn't a hero. He is a man who’s survived things he won’t speak of. He’s lean, ragged, and always listening. There’s a weariness in his eyes that no rest can lift, and a silence that feels like mourning. His dog is his only companion. What drives him isn’t hope; it’s hatred for the vampires who took more than blood from him. That’s the only fire he still tends.
Last Known Location: Zone-32, Old Region of Greece
Ian Ryder
Trade, map, vanish: that’s Ian’s creed. He’s the Scavenger most Scavengers want to be: ruthless, precise, and never sentimental. If he found the last vial of water on earth, he’d sell it twice before he took a sip. Ian believes, with all his heart, that trust is a liability. He’s been known to walk through warzones untouched, simply because everyone owes him something; or perhaps fear owes him even more.
Last Known Location: Zone-15, Old Berlin
Sira of the Broken
Sira once found something she should not have. Since then, her charts make no sense to others, her notes written in spirals and riddles. She mutters when she walks, speaks to shadows when she camps, and carves warnings in places no one asked her to explore. Some say the restless dead speak through her. Others think madness has made her useful in ways reason cannot. Either way, when Sira marks a door as a warning, no one opens it.
Last Known Location: Unidentified
Rumengol
Once a Scavenger like any other, Rumengol was pulled into leadership by necessity. He did not seek followers, but the survivors needed a steady guide, and he was the only one who could hold them together. Now, he explores not just for himself, but to understand the fractured worlds birthed by the Cataclysm and to protect those who trust him. Though he carries this weight, he remains an explorer at heart, never letting the title of "leader" define who he is.
Last Known Location: Outskirts of old Paris
Shadows
Scavengers are the quiet threads holding the frayed edges of survival together.
They walk the forgotten paths, carrying secrets heavier than any blade, moving through ruins that whisper of broken dreams.
They trade in knowledge and in shadows, never claiming more than what the world allows, yet always shaping what comes next.
To them survival is a craft honed by those willing to walk alone. And in their footsteps lies a single truth:
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