The Smoglands were once fertile and rich with resources. But the march of unchecked industry drowned the skies in soot and fire. When the Smogfall came, whole nations vanished, leaving only corporations to rule from behind walls of filtered air. Now the Smoglands are a battlefield where oil, iron, and human lives are the only currency.
History here is measured not by kings or nations, but by the smoke itself. The Smogfall divided the world into two eras: what came before, and rose out of the ash.
Five great forces now dominate the Smoglands, each with their own vision for survival. Some seek control through industry, others through innovation, rebellion, or brute force. Their battles shape the future — and you must choose where your loyalties lie.
The Krim Corporation
Masters of logistics and militarized industry, The Krim Corporation rules through relentless discipline. Their Rigs are efficient war machines, engineered for durability and mass deployment. For The Krim, survival is measured in order, obedience, and the strength of the ability to conquer.
Nox Industries
Nox Industries thrives in the darkest corners of industry, mining deep into poisoned lands and creating devastating technology others fear to touch. Their Rigs are heavy, brutal, and adaptable, armed with high power weaponry and impenetrable armor. They see themselves as humanity’s saviors through industry and control.
Triton Engineering
Once masters of the oil seas, Triton Engineering clings to their fortified ocean platforms, defending the last great wells with machines forged from diving suits and salvage. Their society is insular and pragmatic, bound by survival and tradition. Every Rig they field is a piece of industrial heritage turned weapon.
Arcus Technologies
Born from visionaries ignored before the Smogfall, Arcus Technologies wields science as both shield and sword. Their enclaves are powered by arc-reactors and filtration towers, their Rigs precise instruments of innovation. Where others see ruin, they see proof that only knowledge can shape the future.
Freegear Coalition
The Freegear are rebels, deserters, and outcasts who refused to bow to corporate rule. They fight with salvaged parts, ingenuity, and sheer determination, fielding mismatched Rigs that strike supply lines and free the oppressed. For many in the Smoglands, Freegear represents hope — and a chance to breathe free air again.
Born from the ashes of collapsing industries, the Rigs are the iron beasts that define the age Of Oil and Iron. Once, they were little more than towering machines of burden: oil-rig lifters, mining frames, and construction engines, pressed into service when the first resource wars erupted. But necessity breeds innovation, and under the hands of the corporations, these crude giants were reforged into weapons of war.
A Rig is a walking war machine, powered by brutal combustion engines and clad in armor plate thick enough to shrug off conventional fire. From nimble light frames darting through shattered streets, to colossal class Rigs that grind cities beneath their feet, every Rig is a modular chassis — built to accept an arsenal of weapons, engines, and equipment tailored to its Ironclad’s need.
At their heart stands the Ironclad: the pilot who breathes life into steel. Without one, a Rig is a cold husk; with one, it becomes a weapon of terrifying precision. Ironclads endure crushing heat, punishing feedback, and the mental strain of commanding a walking war engine. Many are revered, others feared, yet all are bound to their Rigs. The thunder of a Rig on the march is as much the rhythm of their heartbeat as it is the song of war.
To the common folk, Rigs are paradox made manifest: protectors and oppressors, saviors and executioners. Their looming silhouettes dominate skylines and battlefields alike, reminders of the corporations’ stranglehold over every drop of oil and bolt of steel. Old wrecks litter the wastelands, memories of forgotten battles. Some scavenged for parts, others worshipped like fallen titans. A Rig may outlast its pilot, or even generations of them, reborn again and again through salvage and re-arming.
They are not just machines of war — they are the very embodiment of industry’s promise and its curse. Where the Rigs walk, history is written.