The nomadic tribes of the Amber Coast witnessed the rise of ancient civilizations, the downfall of brittle empires and the names of countless sovereigns, fading into whispers. And through the ages, the restless nomads retained their mystic and nurturing relationship to the great insect spirit.
But in the wake of iron tanks, phosphor bombs and automatic rifles, the path into the future is obscured and the truth-saying of the oracle brings no comfort. Their unity is threatened from within, wise elders and fierce warriors are torn by the promises of Diesel industrialization.
Only the chorus of the holy matriarchs can save them from losing their way. Only the wisdom of the great insect spirit can mend the rift between the old and new. And they have to. To face foreign invaders. To drive away greedy corporations. And to claim what is rightfully theirs.
The Nomad Army
The many tribes have different philosophies about the best way to fight. But all tend to a more mobile style of warfare. Be it on insect or motorcycle, mobility is still at the very core of their culture.
Ambushes and hit and run tactics favored by the tribes are done by infantry with beetle transporters or riding all kinds of giant insects. Most Insect Nomads have a lot of experience in fighting each other and outsiders. Which results from a long tradition as mercenaries.
Bought from all over the world, giants insects are now equipped with the newest guns and steel armor. High-tech rifles and modern grenades are plentiful. All the riches from diesel trade fuel, not machines but also the need or conquest.
Adapting the to the needs of an ever-changing battlefield the tribes developed some impressive solutions around their relationship with the giant insects. Dragonflies with machine-guns and bombs, recoilless rifles on the back of desert roaches, tank cannons on large beetles.
The conflict is not only on the battlefields but also in the heart of the people. Traditional warfare is more and more substituted with modern technology. While the mighty centipede fortresses are impressive even to the oldest traditionalist they can not overlook how it undermines the core of insect nomad society. In the end, a nomad on a bug with a rifle and spear is what feels most right.