Ardua

In the year 2050, the world was plunged into a war unlike any before it. Destruction, chaos, and blood spread across all nations faster than anyone could have imagined. The people who were smart, or simply paranoid, built massive bunkers underground, waiting for the world to end. But it didn't. When the bomb blasts, mushroom clouds, and tanks had gone two years later, all that was left was a world of rubble and a small population of weary survivors.
In the process, many things were forgotten. The result was a culture resembling that of centuries past with technology having reverted to that of earlier times. But that did not lessen the determination of those remaining to reclaim what they could of the lives they had known. They could not forget their sufferings though, and passed what they could down to their children. A thousand oral histories combined to create something entirely new.
It wasn't long before these survivors started building things up again. Towns began to appear here and there. Some towns began allying with other towns, and the potential for new nations was sparked. In what was once the southeastern United States, a man rose from the ashes. A preacher like no one had ever seen before. But this preacher walked the road of politics. And by the sheer force of his will, and a few dirty power plays, the nation of Atlantus was born, named for the old city on whose rubble the new capital was built.
This is a new time. A new culture. Born of war. Myth and religion have combined to create its foundation. They are the children of God, praising Jesus and all. But their heroes are much older than Christ. They emulate the Romans with wild bacchanals by night and pray toward the cross by day. Amidst the decayed, poverty-stricken New South, Carnivale rages at The Plantation, led by the Preacher-King. And on the outskirts, the Old South bubbles to the surface. Ancient magic pouring from whiskey-scented mouths. And the messiah of the forgotten is rising.