Deseret
1863
Rot Gully: there's a reason the town's name sounds ominous.
In 1847, under the leadership of Brigham Young, the Mormons set off for the West. After enduring years of persecution in the young United States, they set their eyes on greener trails, in search of a land of milk and honey.
For a few years, they prospered in their newly founded state of Deseret, and they built a temple so grand as to make even the most devout Methodists blush with envy. They explored the canyons and the caves, and conquered the desert as it lay before them. One by one, small settlements and towns spread across the wasteland—they had built quite the society.
But that was a long time ago. In 1854, the great jewel of the west, Deseret, went silent. No more letters, no more trains—not a word was heard from those Mormons. Once great cities were seemingly abandoned, and the secrets of Deseret were lost to the sands of time.
The year is now 1863. Settlers from out east have ventured west of the Colorado once more. You find yourself on the eastern banks of the river in a town once known as Moab, though these days most folk know it by the name of Rot Gully—you reason, likely on account of the stench that permeates the town when the wind blows from the west.
There's a feeling of the hope of a new life in a new land on the faces of the townsfolk, overshadowed only occasionally by a dread that no one seems to acknowledge. It's a slow October afternoon in Rot Gully, and the world lay before you.
Welcome, friends, to Deseret.