BLOOD AND IRON is a compelling and mature action IF made for an adult audience. This story includes content that some may find disturbing, such as explicit language, mentions of child trafficking, child abuse, sexism, psychological stress, homophobia, intense violence, death, gore, and much more.
Inspired by Batman, John Wick, Ninja Assassin, The Punisher, and The Equalizer.
ABBREVIATION: B&I
THE CITY BURNS.
CORRUPTION AND CHAOS RULE THE STREETS.
TO SURVIVE, YOU MUST FIGHT.
TO FIGHT, YOU MUST SURVIVE.
- - -
Chicago, 1994.
Chicago bleeds quietly these days. Not in the headlines, but in basements, behind unmarked doors, in the flicker of broken streetlamps, no proper badge patrols.
The world didn’t ask if you were ready. It just kept turning and grinding down the soft parts until only the sharp edges remained.
Raised in a hidden facility outside Chicago, you were one of many children. An experiment in obedience, efficiency, and silence. They didn’t call it a home. They called it a program. And you survived it.
Barely.
They stripped your name. Trained your body. Broke your will, up until they didn’t.
You escaped.
The world didn’t know what to do with you.
But he did—the man who saved you, giving you a name, cover, and a second chance dressed up as a normal life.
By day, you blend seamlessly into the crowd, adopting a new name and working a steady job making pizzas. To the citizens of South Chicago, you’re just another face on the street.
But by night, you take on a different role—one that cleans up the shadows left by a broken system: dismantling organ trafficking rings, confronting human traffickers, and bringing to justice those killers shielded by power or wealth.
But this isn’t just an act of heroism on your part.
It’s personal.
You’re digging through the filth of this city, tearing up every buried secret, because somewhere beneath it all lies the truth.
The Facility.
And the man who ran it.
Whitaker.
He’s not on any official record—and the place that you escaped from doesn’t exist on paper.
But you remember the rooms. The drills. The screaming. The numbers burned into your skin like a barcode.
Every body you drop might be connected. Every whisper might lead back to him.
You’re not a hero.
You’re a survivor searching for the ghost of the man who made you—and the trail of blood he left behind.
The closer you get, the more unstable everything becomes—your past, your purpose, his goal.
You can follow orders. Break free. Burn it all down. But one question echoes through every silence:
Who will you become when you finally reach the end?
Play as male, female, or nonbinary.
Define who you are beyond the number—whether you seek connection, crave freedom, or prefer to walk alone.
Be straight, gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, aromantic, or asexual.
Establish your cover identity—first and last name. C-4 doesn’t exist outside the wire.
Explore Chicago in the 90s.
Experience flashbacks of your harrowing and unforgiving childhood at the facility.
Define your body and presence with scars, tattoos and more, including flavour stats that affect immersion and narrative tone.
Choose out of four languages your MC can speak and understand.
Choose your ride and leave your mark in burnt rubber and broken taillights. Whether it’s a snarling muscle car, a rumbling motorcycle, a rugged Jeep, or a heavy-duty pickup, you’ll be behind the wheel.
Experience a world where the way you choose your character's appearance influences how others perceive and interact with you. (Intimidation Meter)
Choose your physical appearance, build and height—whether towering and lithe, or compact and deadly.
Meet six ROs, each with their own storylines, layered personalities, and emotional arcs that evolve with your choices. It’s up to you to decide how the story unfolds: as allies, enemies, or even the possibility of something more.
Get ready for action. This story pulls no punches—literally. You’ll be thrown headfirst into brutal gunfights, savage fistfights, high-speed car chases, and close-quarters takedowns.
Define your personality through detailed flavour choices: are you brutal or merciful, stoic or emotional, cautious or impulsive, friendly or rude?
Navigate the grim underworld of adulthood: surveillance, corruption, organized crime, and the scars of memory.
Shape your legacy in a world that tried to erase your humanity. It's all down to you C-4.
OPERATIVE D-6 (RO)
Age: 24
Gender: Player-selectable (M/F)
Nationality/Ethnicity: Korean-American
Vibe: Ghost of the past. Loyalty carved from trauma. Quiet intensity.
The Operative — the life you left behind, still trying to follow you home.
D-6 is a shadow stitched to your childhood, moving with a precision that speaks louder than words ever could. They don’t flinch, don’t blink, and rarely break eye contact—yet there’s no threat in it. Just memory. Just calculation. The facility shaped them like it shaped you, but where you ran, they stayed. Hardened. Refined. Perfected into something cold and frighteningly still.
They barely speak, but understand everything. Loyal not by choice, but by conditioning—yet something in their gaze suggests the cracks are forming.
Whether D-6 is here to kill you, bring you back or break away with you… even they haven’t decided. But they’ve always been watching. And they never forget.
The Detective — your ideological foil, and mirror of what you could have been with a badge instead of a body count.
Detective Juno Reyes is the type of person to walk like they carry the whole city on their shoulders, and honestly, maybe they do. Every crime scene clings to their coat, every unsolved case etched into the set of their jaw. They believe in justice, not the easy kind, but the kind that scrapes its knuckles bloody. The kind that keeps them up at night because they still think it matters.
Juno doesn’t trust you. Maybe they never will. But they understand you in the way only someone on the other side of the line can.
Where you cut through the rot with a blade, they try to dig it out with a badge. Righteous, relentless, and furious with the system that fails people like you, and maybe even with themselves for not walking away from it.
- - -
NICO/NIA RUSSO (RO)
Age: 22
Gender: Player-selectable (M/F)
Nationality/Ethnicity: Italian-American
Vibe: Snark-as-armour. Trash-mouth tendencies. Hot grease and soft heart.
The Co-worker — the one who has their worst days, yet still shows up.
Russo talks like the world owes them a fistfight and a cigarette break. All bite, all bark, and just enough burn to keep people at arm’s length. They’ve got grease on their apron, a permanent chip on their shoulder, and a mouth that never learned the word “filter.”
You’re not sure they even like working for their uncle—yet they’re here, day after day, constantly grinding out those shifts like it's a special part of their routine.
They're also halfway through a criminal justice degree at a city college they never talk about unless their arguing with the news playing in the background. Claims it’s all bullshit—cops, lawyers, the system. But you’ve caught Russo studying case law in the backroom between breaks and dead periods. Says it’s for the credits, but the way their jaw tightens during certain stories on the news? It’s more than that.
Their not just pissed off. They're paying attention.
- - -
KIERAN/KIERA MYLES (RO)
Age: 27
Gender: Player-selectable (M/F)
Nationality/Ethnicity: Half White, Half Mexican-American
Vibe: Fragrance, coded language, and too many knives hidden in tailored jackets
The Interloper — the one who wasn’t supposed to be on your radar—but is.
Myles moves through rooms like a whispered secret and the scent of money—sharp, intentional, impossible to ignore. Head high, steps measured, eyes always calculating. They speak in layers, smile in puzzles, and dress like they’re late for a gala or an ambush, maybe both. Everything about them feels curated, controlled… until it isn’t.
You don’t know what they want, not really.
One minute it’s intel, the next it’s something softer, more dangerous.
Myles wasn't part of your mission. Not part of your world. But now they’re in it, circling closer, asking questions with too much knowledge behind the eyes. You're not sure if they’re here to ruin you, or to remind you there’s still something left worth ruining.
- - -
ALEX/ALEXI MONROE (RO)
Age: 25
Gender: Player-selectable (M/F)
Nationality/Ethnicity: Scandanavian-American
Vibe: Softness meets suspicion. The light in the hallway. The warmth in the cold
The Neighbor — the one who sees past the walls and doesn’t look away.
Monroe lives in the unit right beside yours and leaves their window open when it rains. They laugh too loudly at sitcom reruns, forget to water their plants, and hum under their breath while waiting for the kettle to boil. On the surface: harmless. Gentle. The kind of softness you’d expect to break easy.
But there’s something behind the smile—something watchful—subtly. Thoughtfully. The way someone does when they’re used to reading what isn’t said.
Monroe doesn't pry. They just linger. Just look a little too long sometimes, like they’re trying to put a puzzle together without knowing what the picture will exactly be.
The Crusader — the one who wants to save the world, even if it means breaking it.
Carter speaks like every word could spark a revolution, and maybe it could, if they weren’t already carrying the weight of too many failed ones. There’s something magnetic in the way they move through a room, controlled chaos, dressed in confidence and defiance. Their voice carries conviction like heat, and they never seem to doubt it. Not publicly, at least.
They believe in something bigger. In justice. In tearing down the structures that rot people from the inside out. It’s not naive, what they preach, it’s dangerous. The kind of hope that gets people killed. The kind that inspires others to follow anyway.
Carter sees what’s broken and doesn't look away. They demand change, even if it has to be carved from ruin. That makes them dangerous. That makes them rare.
And when they look at you, it’s like they see the potential for something more, something bigger than just blood and vengeance. But whether that makes you want to run toward them or burn everything down before they get too close… that’s up to you.
- - -
ELIJAH CREED
Age: 44
Gender: Male
Nationality/Ethnicity: Irish-American
Vibe: Cigars, classical music, a warmth that never fully hides the hollow spots.
The Father — the one who gave you a name, a roof, and a purpose.
Elijah Creed moves through the world like a man carrying both a lifetime of regrets and the weight of unshakable resolve. There’s a quiet authority in his voice, calm, deliberate, the kind that can soothe storms or summon lightning. His days are marked by the scent of cigars and the soft notes of classical music drifting through the rooms of the home you guys used to share.
He’s not just a guardian, he’s the father you never truly had, the one who took you in when the world wanted to erase you. Behind that steady warmth lies a steel core, forged by loss and haunted by the past. Elijah gave you a name, a place to belong, and a reason to fight, but never illusions that the world outside is anything less than brutal.
He is both shelter and shadow, a man who knows the cost of survival—and who will make sure you never pay it alone.
- - -
MS. CLAUDIA BELLAMY
Age: 54
Gender: Female
Nationality/Ethnicity: American (Afro-Puerto Rican)
Vibe: Gold hoops, chipped nail polish, a cigarette always halfway gone. Keeps a revolver in her sewing kit and a bottle of gin under the sink.
The Landlady — the building’s backbone, eyes, and occasional judge, jury, and babysitter.
Ms. Bellamy has lived in the building longer than the cockroaches, and even they know better than to cross her. Her voice rarely rises, but when it does, even the radiators stop rattling. Always in gold hoops and a housecoat with yesterday’s cigarette still smoldering in the ashtray, she moves like someone who’s already seen the worst and didn’t flinch.
She doesn’t run the building. She rules it, half landlady, half neighbourhood matriarch. Rent better be on time, the hallways better stay quiet, and no one better mess with the kid on the second floor unless they want a lecture followed by a left hook.
She calls your new name like it’s your real one, sees through lies like smoke through sunlight, and keeps a .38 tucked behind the cans of beans in her pantry. Whatever history she has, it walks with her, but she’ll never speak of it unless the city starts burning again. And even then, only maybe.
- - -
SALVATORE “SAL” RUSSO
Age: 47
Gender: Male
Nationality/Ethnicity: Italian-American
Vibe: Loud shirt, louder laugh. The kind of man who sings to the tomato sauce and cries at baseball games.
The Pizza King — a local legend with marinara in his veins and a heart too big for this city.
Salvatore Russo isn’t just the owner of the pizza shop—he is the pizza shop. Grease-stained apron, gold chain bouncing with every belly laugh, and a voice that could carry through a riot. He talks with his hands, loves like he’s got something to prove, and swears every pie has a soul.
To the neighborhood, he’s an uncle. To his niece/nephew, he’s a safety net and a headache. And to you? He’s the rare kind of man who doesn’t ask questions he doesn’t want the answers to, so long as you show up, work hard, and don’t scare the regulars.
Somehow, Sal always knows when to push, and when to just slide you a slice and say nothing at all, but could all the smile and laughter be hiding a deeper truth than what's shown on the surface?
- - -
WHEELS
Age: 36
Gender: Male
Nationality/Ethnicity: Polish-American
Vibe: Motor oil and Marlboro smoke. Burnt fingers. Mismatched socks stuffed into combat boots. A man who can hotwire your car with a bottle cap and grudge.
The Arms Dealer — your supplier and the only man in Chicago who listens to Public Enemy while cleaning an M4.
Wheels moves through the city like a ghost with a purpose—fast, sharp, and unpredictable. He’s not just an arms dealer; he’s a craftsman, a collector of weapons with stories carved into their blades. Among his prized possessions are three custom knives, each named after people who shaped his life, two exes who taught him lessons in pain and betrayal, and one for his mother, the only person he never wanted to disappoint.
His sharp gaze misses nothing, always sizing up threats and opportunities with cold precision. Reliable when it counts, Wheels plays the game on his own terms, offering more than just firepower, he’s a lifeline in a city drowning in chaos, but one that carries a warning: trust him carefully, or not at all.
- - -
DR. SILAS CROSS
Age: 55
Gender: Male
Nationality/Ethnicity: Lebanese-American
Vibe: Tailored suits under his lab coat. Surgical gloves and bourbon. The hum of high-end equipment beneath the jazz playing low through recessed speakers.
The Surgeon — not your friend, not your enemy, just the man who keeps you stitched together.
Dr. Cross is not the kind of man you thank.
You show up bleeding, broken, maybe dying, and he fixes you anyway. No questions. No judgment. Just the quiet clink of surgical tools and the faint smell of antiseptic layered beneath expensive cologne. His clinic hides behind the façade of a luxury med spa, but the back rooms tell a different story. Marble floors, climate control, and machines that hum like symphonies, because pain, here, is handled with elegance.
He wears tailored suits under his lab coat, pours bourbon like it’s medicine, and plays Coltrane through speakers you’ll never find. Every stitch comes with an unspoken rule: you don’t ask about him, and he doesn’t ask about you. His price is steep, but he’s the reason a dozen corpses aren’t yours.
He’s not your friend. Not your savior. He’s the man who puts you back together because it’s the only thing he still knows how to do.
- - -
REESE
Age: 12
Gender: Male
Nationality/Ethnicity: African-American
Vibe: Scuffed sneakers. Sharp eyes. A heart still hanging on.
The Kid — street-smart pickpocket and your stubborn follower.
Reese has a grin too big for someone who’s had to survive this much.
He's the kind of kid who moves through the sidewalks like they belong to him, dodging grown-ups, slipping through crowds, and making wallets vanish. Every rip in his hoodie and scrape on his knees has a story attached, most of them ending with him outrunning someone bigger, meaner, or both.
He also follows you around like a stray cat that decided you were home. Doesn’t care how cold you get, how many times you warn him off. You’re a ghost in a city full of monsters, and somehow, he’s decided you’re one of the better ones. Maybe the only one. But that's for you to decide.
He’s not smart enough to know who you truly are. Not very smart at all actually.
But is young enough to believe that there’s still more to you than what meets the eye.
