A thousand years ago, it happened.

That's... really all the more anyone can say on the matter.

Oh, there are legends, to be sure. Some say the days were mostly sunny and that the world was covered water. Pure nonsense, fairy tales told to children at night during a drought. Everyone knows that nearly all the earth is Ocean. Nothing but sand for as far as the eye can see.

Still, there's no doubting that something happened to our ancestors. The Nation is most certainly mighty, but there are clues all around us that it's nothing but a ramshackle little scrap heap built atop the remains of a far greater civilization. Ancient documents talk of cities that would make even our largest metropolises seem like sleepy little villages. The technology that makes our lives possible is just half-assed imitation of the relics we've dug up of a bygone era. Whether you're a poor salvager prospecting for the next big find or a Naval commander patrolling the vast seas under a grey sky, you can't escape the feeling that we're all just scavangers subsisting in a world that's

DERELICT

Derelict takes place far in the future. The earth's climate has undergone severe changes, desertification having claimed 95% or more of its surface. The oceans have dried up, and there is very little rainfall in spite of the almost perpetually overcast skies. What is currently known as Antarctica is the largest habitable area, the continent now having a climate something like that of England. There are also a number of small "islands" or areas that remain fertile where villages or settlements have been established.

Salvagers, colloquially known as sailors, fishermen, etc., explore the "Ocean" desert in vehicles somewhat like a combination between a 17th century sailing ship and a tank, searching for ruins and remnants of old technology. Big finds are sold for high prices back at civilization, where inventors and craftsmen are able to study them, using what they learn to develop new technologies.

The government that rules the people living here is known simply as The Nation. Since it's the only one left, giving it a unique name didn't make a whole lot of sense. Officially, The Nation's borders extend roughly to the equator, beyond which is entirely uncharted territory. However, any sailor worth his water knows that once you're north of the Tropic of Capricorn, you answer to the Lockjaw Pirate Union, a vast syndicate of sailors and merchants that has declared independence from the Nation. The Nation refuses to acknowledge the Lockjaw Union's sovereignty and considers it to be nothing more than a band of thieves, albeit a large one, which has been threatening world peace and security for the past fifty years. In response, the Nation has been building its military up and now has a very intimidating Naval force. While battles between the two sides still happen, after five decades of conflict they have become fewer and more far between, neither side interested in creating casualties in what seems to be an absolute stalemate. Still, the border between their territories is not a safe place to be.