Bright Lights, Big City

October 31, 1927. The night that never ended. For almost a century, the city has waited for a dawn that never comes. Whole generations have been born, lived, died and haunted Manhattan, an exiled city that keeps the dark at bay with an almost frantic energy. People dance and sing, drink and make love, they work and play hard and try to never look higher than the tops of the skyscrapers.

Tesla’s wall glows like the northern lights on nights when the fog rolls in, holding the thick mists at bay, because the fog brings change and danger. And a chance to make a fortune, for the brave, the bold and the foolhardy. Out of the fog comes horror and wonder, creatures of myth and scientific conjecture. Angels. Demons. Faery queens and strange beings that claim to be from the deserts of Mars or lands of high magic and low technology.

And into the fog go the Mistrunners. A generation lost in the dark and burning their candles at both ends. There are treasures to be claimed across the bridges, if you’re crazy or desperate enough to brave the fog. And if you survive, this is the city of jazz and night clubs and wild parties. The city is yours for the taking. Until you run out of cash.


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