What Is The Setting Of 'Outlawed'?

The setting of 'Outlawed' is a brutal, lawless frontier where survival is the only rule. Picture vast deserts dotted with ghost towns, abandoned mines hiding secrets, and saloons filled with cutthroats swapping stories over whiskey. The story unfolds in a timeline where civilization collapsed, leaving scattered settlements ruled by warlords or gangs. Technology exists but is scarce—rusted cars, jury-rigged radios—giving it a gritty, retro-future vibe. The protagonist navigates this wasteland, where trust is currency and every shadow could hide a knife. The worldbuilding shines in small details: how bullets are traded like gold, or how the last functioning courthouse is just a facade for mob justice.

I adore how 'Outlawed' turns the Western genre inside out. Instead of tumbleweeds and spurs, imagine neon signs flickering over adobe huts, cybernetic coyotes hunting in packs, and saloon fights where augmented fists shatter bone. The setting merges spaghetti Western aesthetics with biopunk grotesquery—think tarantulas with steel legs, or outlaws selling black-market organ upgrades in back alleys.

Key locations stick with you. There's Paradise, a floating city of scrap metal held aloft by antique hot-air balloons, ruled by a despot who collects vintage sunglasses. Or the Bone Highway, a road paved with calcified remains, where travelers whisper about the highwaymen who wear their victims' faces as masks. The world feels tactile, from the sting of radioactive rain to the way dust coats your tongue during gunfights.

What makes it unique is how power dynamics manifest. Water barons control life and death, but hackers can hijack their pumps. Preachers wield flamethrowers quoting scripture, while child gangs modify their bodies with scavenged tech. The setting doesn't just host the story—it becomes the antagonist, a character that breathes and bleeds and betrays.

'Outlawed' crafts a setting that's both familiar and unsettlingly original. It blends Western tropes with post-apocalyptic decay, creating a world where the past and future collide. The story primarily takes place in the Badlands, a stretch of irradiated desert where sandstorms erase entire towns overnight. Beyond that lies the Frontier, a disputed zone where rogue scientists and mutated creatures lurk.

The most fascinating aspect is the societal structure. Without centralized government, power belongs to whoever controls resources. The Iron Syndicate runs the railroad networks, trading water for loyalty. The Church of the Last Dawn preaches salvation through violence, armed with relics of the old world. Even language evolved—slang mixes cowboy drawl with hacker jargon, calling mercenaries 'circuit riders' and hackers 'ghost scribes.'

The protagonist's journey reveals how geography shapes culture. Mountain clans live by feudal codes, coastal cities worship AI as gods, and nomads follow toxic wind patterns to avoid detection. This isn't just backdrop; it directly influences every fight, negotiation, and betrayal. The setting feels alive because it's constantly shifting—alliances crumble when new tech is uncovered, and maps redraw themselves after each catastrophe.