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New Harrah is a supposed lost Wastelander city located in a remote location deep within the wastes of Haven County. It's exactly location, or even it's approximate location, is completely unknown. Many experts dispute it's very existence. Accounts of it are scattered in wastelander legend and sketchy eye-witness accounts from mercenaries and scavengers. The one legitimate account comes from a supposed personal account from deceased wasteland explorer and novelist Irving R. Reynolds, who recalled his time spent in the city. Irving went to his grave before ever clarifying if this story was meant to be a fictional, speculative tale or a real, historical account of an actual event. His account is reproduced here:

"I traveled down the weary road from The Outskirts carrying a liberal amount of supplies and salvage, planning for eight weeks travel across the desert sands. My plans, however, were disrupted when fate introduced me to a traveling caravan of mutants - goblins, to be exact. They were low on supplies and had nothing to trade for, so they made me a once-in-a-lifetime offer. They told me tales of an ancient lost city unscorched by the atomic inferno that consumed our world so many years ago. A city built not from scrap or salvage, but from brick and mortar. A human untouched by human hands, unseen by human eyes. Were I to offer them most of my supplies, they would take me there. I would be the first human to see the city of New Harrah.

I agreed, on the condition that the trade would not be made until I had been inside, seen, and left the city. They wrapped me in a set of scavenged robes so I wouldn't be recognized as human and we set off for New Harrah. By sunset, we had arrived just in time to watch the great torches outside the city wall go up. While the encompassing, radiant glow of the great torches was doubtlessly an astonishing site, the great wall itself was the true marvel. A fifty foot wall built from stone, reinforced with spikes of sharp, black metal, the foundation was covered in hundreds of sharpened pikes with destroyed military robots skewered on them. Surrounded by a massive moat, the wall had a giant drawbridge built from wooden logs. It descended, and we entered the city.

Even the striking majesty of the great wall paled in comparison of the buildings. Built from brick, mortar and stone, they bared a strong resemblance to ancient Greek and Egyptian houses, but with a bit more of an intimidating edge, as they were reinforced, as if in preparation for an attack. Away from the houses and homes of the residential district was a massive Colosseum. An arena where gladiators battled to the death for the entertainment of the people of New Harrah. Although I marveled the impressive architecture, I abhorred the savagery of it's purpose.

Wooden guard towers were littered all throughout the city, where wasteland brutes stood overlooking the city holding surprisingly modern-looking weapons. I'm not much of a firearms expert, but their weapons had to be heavy machine guns, at least .50 caliber. They were carefully mounted on the edge of the towers. I felt very threatened to be around them, I couldn't fight back the constant fear that my cover would be blown, and one of these unnecessarily large guns would turn my into soup. To make the atmosphere even more threatening, several of these towers were decorated with deceased and partially dismantled robots hung from nooses.

Most impressive of all, however, was the massive tower on the hill that overlooked the city. At least fifty feet high and completely black, it spat out blackened smoke from it's speak and stood surrounded by massive barracks buildings and smaller guard towers. The tower alone must have taken fifty years to build. I figured the city itself most have taken at least a hundred, if not two hundred. As wasteland mutants can live up to seven-hundred years, this didn't really seem improbable.

Although I marveled at the magnificent and unbelievable architecture of the city, I felt it all quite unnecessary and extravagant. With a fraction of the time and effort it took to create, a suitable pre-war settlement or town could have been salvaged and reclaimed. When I asked my wastelander companions why the wastelanders would choose to build an entire new city instead of building on an existing one, they explained to me the story of New Harrah.

According to legend, Gorrack, the champion of the wastelanders, conquered the warring wasteland tribes and demanded they take him to their capital. The tribals took him to Old Harrah, where Gorrack reacted with disgust. Apparently, Old Harrah was a shanty town built from airfield scrap. Gorrack abhorred this, and chastised all his men for "dwelling in the corpses of the old world." Gorrack apparently despised old world technology (although apparently not their weapons) and believed living in old world buildings would eventually lead the new remnants of humanity to die out the same way the older generations did. He allowed all the citizens of Harrah to gather up all their possessions, evacuated everyone, and then ordered his men to burn the city to the ground. He then built up a massive series of tents and ordered his men to begin what would soon become a grueling, hundred-year construction effort.

By that point, the sun began to set, and I felt too unsafe in New Harrah to settle. Our caravan parked outside the great wall, and we slept until morning. Afterwards, my wasteland companions lended me just enough supplies to return home safely and left with the rest, just as we had agreed upon. In all my life, I have seen much of the wasteland, by I will never forget the sight of New Harrah. Nor will I ever be more impressed by anything in the remainder of my life."

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